2Loco2Mag

Table of Contents

Letter from the Editors 1

What is Loco Mag? 2 Meet the Staff? 3

My Morally Ambiguous Photo Project 4

The Cult of Rae Dunn 9

A Whore to Call my Own 11

The Throne of the Least Favorite 13 An Argument for Ice Age 15

A Love Letter to the In Between 16

Smoking Section - The Next Millennials 19

Ranking Meds from Worse to Meh 21 Growing up in the Badlands 23

Luckily there’s a Family Guy 24

Trends or Moments in Time That Had Too Much of an Influence on Me 29

Gardening: My Extreme Sport 31

A Growing Campus’ Growing Pains 34

Semester in Review 36

Letter from the Editors

Loco Mag has gone through a lot of changes this semester. With graduation fast-approaching for both editors in chief, we wanted to make our final year special. During our tenure, we’ve written a wide variety of articles tackling different topics, hosted successful fundraising events, launched interesting new columns, and learned to lead together. We’ve also introduced a new print edition director, Jewel Miller, who spearheaded this print edition. Our staff has worked so hard on this new endeavor, bringing exciting concepts and content to the table to share with you all.

On that note, we are happy to present, 2 LOCO 2 MAG, our fall 2022 print edition! This edition includes our favorite pieces from the semester, some unique photo spreads, throwback articles, and more. Check out Belle’s journey through the Family Guy pipeline, Jewel’s reflections on summer as a comfortable “in-between” to two semesters, Scrap’s ranking of some various medications, and much more. There is plenty to see in here, so don’t skip a single page!

Stay fast, stay furious, and enjoy, Danita, Ryan, and the Loco Mag Staff

LocoMag would also like to say an extra special thanks to Dr. Michael Dwyer for his constant support and guidence in helping us run this magazine and create cool things like this.

Also thanks to staff members Danita, Ryan, Belle, Jake, Claire, Conrad, and Livia for helping Jewel with the formatting of this issue.

Meet the Staff

Executive Staff

Editor-in-Chief Ryan Editor-in-Chief

Danita

Belle Social Media Director

Jake Copyeditor Jewel Print Edition Director

Claire

Conrad

Ethan

Livia

Scrap 3

Writers

My Morally Ambiguous Photo Project

By Claire Griffin

In September I was assigned a Street Photography project in my Photo class. The assignment was mostly self explanatory, to go take photos where there’s people around and stuff going on. Only, we were told that we couldn’t ask any subjects for consent before photographing them. The genre of street photography has been around for decades, probably for as long as photography has been practiced creatively and the consent to be photographed has probably been discussed for just as long. A 2013 documentary called Everybody Street highlighted some of the most influential photographers who found their niche in street photography, and their various perspectives on the content they make. Some felt their photography was about reacting to their immediate surroundings, capturing a moment in time that would never occur again. Others felt that there was something about being able to approach a stranger and convince them you’re sincere enough to photograph them. One photographer, Bruce Gilden, was known for a more aggressive approach, as he would walk through the crowded streets of New York and abruptly lift his camera and flash right into the face of someone, sometimes lunging towards them, catching them unawares. As you can imagine, this is a fast way to upset people, but for Gilden their reaction was the subject, the thing that makes it interesting. The documentary made me both nervous and excited to go out and shoot this project, but it was the brief lecture about our rights as a photographer that got me thinking about the ethics of photographing without consent. We learned that there are four different ‘wrongs’ that constitute an invasion of privacy.

The four violations that could be brought forth in a civil cause of action are as follows:

Appropriation of someone’s name or likeness for one’s own benefit

Intrusion upon another’s privacy or private affairs

Public disclosure of private facts

Placing a person in a false light in the public eye

As students who would not be sharing these images except for in a classroom setting, we are pretty much safe from committing any of these violations. Could you argue that I appropriated someone’s likeness for the benefit of a good grade? Sure, but we also discussed what to do in the case someone notices and confronts you about being photographed. We were instructed to explain the project if the person were willing to listen, but ultimately just apologize and delete the images in front of them. Our professor assured us no student had ever been dangerously confronted before but it wasn’t my first time doing street photography and I had an idea what to expect. I know that it helps to choose a busy location, like a tourist attraction or a natural phenomena, a location where you would usually find people taking pictures.

I chose a warm and sunny Sunday afternoon in October and headed down to Kelly Drive and the Philadelphia Museum of Art. I parked on Sedgley Drive, just across from the Azalea Garden and the area surrounding the waterworks. I slowly made my way through the park, loitering here and there, looking for subjects and sneaky vantage points.

My first few shots were mainly elderly folks; they seemed the least likely to care and were definitely the least likely to come after me. As the trail opened up to the area overlooking the river, I saw families and couples, groups of friends, a birthday party, a wedding, some kids fishing. With a terribly conspicuous camera I was doing my best to blend in, yet I remained nervous. I continued shooting and was feeling good about the shots I was getting. I knew that I was being frequently noticed, either by the person I was photographing or by someone nearby so I kept moving, never lingering too long and making sure to occasionally turn my camera on Boathouse Row, the waterworks, or the museum itself, things that would make a nice landscape image.

I was definitely noticed by this guy when photographing this couple (see bottom left), he looked my way several times, as I tried to seem like I was capturing the river but I was also sort of shameless about it, it didn’t seem like he was gonna say anything and I ended up getting one of my favorite shots of the project. The young couple relaxing on the riverbank during golden hour. He glanced around as she talked to him, she’s sitting up, he’s lying down propped up on an elbow. As he turns back toward her, he leans his face into her arm, just barely touching. It’s an intimate moment, but the kind that happens in public all the time.

Later on as I made my way up behind the museum, I spotted a hotdog stand and began to take a few photos. There was a guy who seemed to be with the people running the stand, I didn’t get very close but I snapped a few photos of him and was about to walk away when I saw a kid run up to the stand and take a look at what they were selling. I turned and took a photo of the kid, when the guy noticed me again and stood up. I had started to walk away already and pretended not to hear him the first time he said “HEY”, but the second time I turned back and, like I said, I wasn’t very close, so he had to shout to let me know that “We don’t want no pictures!” My gut twisted but I just shouted back, “Okay, I won’t take any” and I turned around and kept walking. Obviously I had already taken photos of him and the kid but I felt like there was enough distance between us that if I moved on quick enough he’d drop it. I felt his eyes on me as I walked away but he didn’t pursue me and I was relieved when I made it around the other side of the museum without interaction.

Once in front of the museum, the crowds were easier to blend into. The Philadelphia Art Museum is a majestic building overlooking the Ben Franklin Parkway and the center city skyline. While it holds one of the most renowned collections of art in the world, it’s the steps of the museum and the statue of the movie character Rocky that draws in crowds of tourists. I continued collecting shots or the people on the steps and the surrounding areas. More couples, friends chatting, people taking pictures, a grandmother enjoying her ice cream while her family mostly ignores her. It wasn’t until I was headed back

to my car walking through the Azalea Garden that I was stopped by someone who just seemed to be curious about what I was shooting. A group of guys were tossing a football around when one of them stopped to ask what I was shooting. I shrugged, “Anything, people mostly”. Truthfully I had taken some pictures of him and the guys a minute before but they hadn’t noticed me yet.

As his friends kept playing we got to talking and I explained that I was doing street photography. He said he’s also a photographer and loves street photography because it becomes more about being a people person, engaging thoughtfully with others, than having great skill. That’s when I explained that I wasn’t meant to be asking permission before taking photos. He was a little taken aback, I could tell he thought it was shady, “You can’t photograph or film people without asking, that’s not right.”

“We’re being photographed and filmed all the time” I replied, “there is no private sphere anymore, there’s security cameras all over the place, cameras on cars, on police officers, imagine how many peoples photos you’re in the background just from living in a city, or going to a bar.” Without quite referencing it, I was bringing up something I had learned in my Visual Cultures course last year. Okay bear with me, this gets into a little bit of social theory.

Many people are familiar with Jeremy Bantham’s Panopticon. The English philosopher and social theorist came up with a prison design in which floors of prison cells are arranged in an outer circle, and in the center is one main guard tower. The tower shines a bright light outward, making it so that the prisoners could never see inside the guard tower but the guard occupying the tower could always see outwards. The concept was an architectural manifestation of a power construct. One in which the prisoner was always under the impression that they are being watched and there-

fore would be encouraged to censor their own behavior more consistently. It would not matter whether they were actually being monitored, because just the knowledge that it was likely or possible was enough to keep them in line.

In my class we discussed a modern manifestation of this concept with the idea of the Virtual Panopticon. More than twenty years after the normalization of at home computers and devices, we know that it’s completely possible for our technology to be accessed and controlled from outside our home. Without getting into too much conspiracy theory territory, we accept as a basic fact, actually we agree to it on the regular, that our data can be shared with a variety of authorities and companies. Every time we go to a site or google something and you get a pop up that asks “Would you like to accept the Cookies?” Most of us hit yes because we’re too impatient to consider what that means or maybe we actually don’t care that our data is shared. But, like the Panopticon, we do act with the knowledge that our data is being shared, maybe even that we’re being watched through our desktop , our phone calls monitored. Is there an FBI agent for each of us? No, of course not, but should there be cause (reasonable or not) we know our search history is not so hard to access by law enforcement.

All this is to say, does our knowledge of this surveillance mean we behave differently? Do the presence of fake security cameras in a corner store discourage shoplifting? One thing that can be said is that digital documentation, photos and videos, have completely changed the way we interact with society. Another photographer that was highlighted in Everybody Street (2013) was Clayton Patterson. Patterson was one of the first people to film and publish a protest, the Tompkins Square Riot in 1988; it was almost 3 hours of documentation of police brutality that actually got six police officers indicted. Today, our phone cameras have become a crucial tool for political activism and forcing people, especially authority figures to be held accountable.

I didn’t quite go that in depth when chatting with the guy in the park, but he said he hadn’t thought about it like that before and we had a good conversation about photography. We did end up exchanging Instagram’s and when I got home, I saw a message from him, wishing me luck with my morally ambiguous photo project. Perhaps it is a morally ambiguous project, but I confess, I feel no qualms about it. Perhaps awkward when shooting and definitely uncomfortable when being acknowledged but for the most part I was feeling proud of the shots I captured, I selected about 12 shots to turn in for the project and washed my hands of it.

All photography by Claire Griffin.

This article was originally published online in the Fall 2022 issue titled Under the Influence.

The Cult of Rae Dunn

By Livia Kleiner

If you’ve been to any Homegoods, TJ Maxx, or Marshalls recently you’ve undoubtedly seen plain white mugs or jars with phrases on them like coffee, please or cocoa. While browsing in Homegoods, I remember seeing a jar that said cotton balls on it and thinking “that’s oddly specific.”

All of these products have that telling font. Rae Dunn, a ceramics company known for its distinct designs, and distinct following. Somehow, this company has attracted a cult following, with shoppers desperate to get Rae Dunn products which are sold exclusively at TJX stores (the company that owns Homegoods, TJ Maxx, Marshalls, etc.).

Rae Dunn founded the eponymous brand in 1995. She had worked as a waitress before discovering her passion for ceramics. I decided to do some research to find out more about Rae Dunn and its followers.

Even Rae Dunn herself referred to the culture around her brand as a “weird phenomenon.” The Rae Dunn cult is composed of superfans, primarily suburban moms, who are known as Rae Dunn Hunters or Rae Dunnies. They communicate primarily through Facebook Groups with names

such as Rae Dunn Newbies or Rae Dunn Addicts. Many of these groups have tens of thousands of members where they talk about Rae Dunn and give advice for scoring certain pieces of merchandise. When I searched “Rae Dunn” on Facebook, the first group that came up was called “Rae Dunn ADDICTS Buy, Sell & Trade” and it currently has 54 thousand members. This group was private, but I found a public one called “Rae Dunn Lovers” that has over 2 thousand members. It’s an endless feed of pictures of Rae Dunn merchandise that people are selling, including a house shaped piggy bank that says dunn fund and a plant spritzer that says thrive. Rae Dunn really makes everything; I even saw a baby shirt that says red, white, and cute.

You’d never expect people would physically fight over a $7 mug, but Rae Dunn seasonal mugs bring out a different side of the Dunnies. When these coveted items come out, women line up outside of a store, then when it opens run to the

shelves to grab the products as fast as they can, even if they have to run others over. Besides the seasonal items, there are rare pieces, such as the “oink pig,” a pig-shaped can with the word oink written in it that also cause a stir. Dunnies even go as far as tracking TJX orders in order to find these rare pieces, as sometimes only a few will go to each Homegoods. Since these items are rare, their resale value is high. Two pigs retailed for $16.99, but have a resale value of $250. But Dunnies aren’t always in it for the money, for them, the satisfaction of finding a rare piece is sometimes enough.

An article from refinery29 titled “Rae Dunn Didn’t Mean To Start A Cult” included some things TJ Maxx employees have said about Dunnies. One employee stated that “they stand around like vultures and even get into fights over Rae Dunn mugs that cost like $8.99” and another former employee stated that “they were always waiting at the door for us to open. It was intense.”

teapot with the word tea on it is listed for $885 (and that’s a steal because the same teapot is $1,400 on Mercari). A set of nine “rare” canisters goes for $1,299.99 while the “rare” spooky plate is $850. There are endless pages of Rae Dunn resells on Ebay and other sites. It’s no surprise that the Dunnies go crazy in stores, knowing how much money they can make from reselling.

I wanted to see what Rae Dunn products are currently being sold online. The Rae Dunn products that can be sold for the most money are rare items and sets that are put together from similar items. I found a set called “Rae Dunn Everything You Need For Perfect Pancakes” that includes a butter dish that says butter, a big pitcher that says milk, a small pitcher that says syrup, a bowl that says stir crazy, a container that says pancake mix, and egg holders that say farm fresh and free range. It goes for $200 plus delivery fees. But that’s not nearly the craziest Rae Dunn resell. Rare items can go for hundreds and even thousands of dollars. An “exclusive” teapot with the world chirp on it is $1,200 on Ebay. Another “hard to find”

Rae Dunn started her brand with no bad intentions, but it turned into something that people are so desperate for they are willing to fight over it. Whether they’re in it for the money or for collection purposes, it’s clear that a massive number of people are under the Rae Dunn influence.

This article was originally published online in the Fall 2022 issue titled Undr the Influence.

A Whore to Call My Own

By Miriam Walker

**This article discusses sexual assault.

I’m twelve when my friend says she’d be flattered to be catcalled. She says it would mean she was hot enough to be noticed. I laugh and agree, because no one had ever shared an interest in me. I’m twelve, with developing breasts and thick thighs. Part of my brain tells me I’m not supposed to agree with her; part of me is scared of being called a slut for agreeing, but I ignore it in favor of seeming cool.

I’m thirteen when my boyfriend tells me he wants me to suck his dick. We’re in his room as he tries to convince me. I tell him I don’t know if I want to, and he tells me his ex-girlfriend used to. A nineteen year old tells me, a thirteen year old, that I should be intimidated by his twenty-one year old ex. I agree to perform oral, thankful for his siblings interrupting us multiple times and the fact my teeth are a bit too sharp to perform well. I’m too dangerous to be a good whore, he says. I took a pregnancy test when my period didn’t show for two months, knowing oral didn’t result in this, but not willing to be a freak exception. I wish I never tasted cum. I wish I never offered to lick up what didn’t enter my mouth. I wish I

stayed thirteen.

I’m fourteen when I look up porn on my phone. It’s a stupid video that’s loud and cliche. I don’t watch all of it. I don’t get the whole ordeal. I don’t think that’s what sex is supposed to be, but it’s so similar to when I was thirteen, so I wonder if I was doing it wrong or if I was always going to be disappointed in the lack of care.

I’m fifteen when I tell my friends what I did at thirteen. I’m so scared of being called a slut by them too. Of being called a whore. I tell them in a shaky breath, praying they won’t abandon me for learning how to give head at such a young age. They hug me tight and tell me I’m allowed to cry. I don’t even notice the tears forming in my eyes. They say what happened wasn’t my fault; somewhere deep down, I know I don’t hate what I did, and that’s why I know it was my fault.

I’m sixteen when I’m walking through Center City. I hear someone behind me tell me to try and run, bitch. I glance behind me and see a man staring at my ass. I begin to walk at my normal pace, listening to what will happen when I run. How he’ll catch me and drag me into an alley. How I’ll learn

to like it, because I’m like every other whore. No one steps in. No one acknowledges the man. I lose him at a red light and begin to go around every corner I can. I’m lost in the city, and I can’t go back. He knows I ran, and I don’t want to be made into his whore.

I’m seventeen when it happens again. Another man, another part of the city, another promise of how I’ll turn into his whore. This time I lose him quick. I burst into tears immediately, and a woman comes up to me. I tell her what happened; how I can’t go to my bus stop because he’ll see me, and no one in the city will help. She gives me a look, one that shows she’s been in my place before, and walks me to the nearest stop. She gives me a token, telling me to take the 125 until I get to a stop where my bus goes. I thank her and never see her again.

walk her back to her dorm, and I clutch my pepper spray when I make my way to my own.

I’m twenty when I wear a revealing outfit out for the first time. Something that shows my stomach and thighs. I’m walking to campus like this, and I’m terrified. I walk cautiously, glancing every way as I go. It’s cold as shit, so I fear the comments more, but no one says a word. When I get to my destination, I whisper to myself that I can be a whore on my own terms. That I decide when people could call me that. That I like being called a slut by myself and my friends. One of us has to be a slut, I say as I hook up with people I will never date. I think about how every year before, I was scared of being what others perceived as a tramp, but maybe I could be one without guilt. Maybe I don’t have to be his whore. I don’t have to enjoy it because he’ll turn me. Maybe I can enjoy it based off what I give myself.

I’m twenty-one when I wonder if I will ever forget the first blowjob I gave. If I’ll forget being followed down the streets of the city no matter how concealing my clothing was. I wonder if I’ll stop regretting telling my friend I wanted to be catcalled.

I’m eighteen when I accidentally see my director’s nudes. He’s showing me his Halloween set up, and I scroll a bit too far in his camera roll. He yanks the phone from my hands before I can see anything besides his face and chest; a small flash of his dick appears for a split second, but nothing more. He tells me I can tell my parents, my teachers, the producer of the play. He says I can tell any and all adults, just not my cast mates. I don’t tell anyone for years. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.

I’m nineteen when my college friend tells me about her experience being catcalled. How scared she felt when he commented on her tits. I give a small smile and nod my head. I know. I know. I

I fear I never had a childhood. I was too concerned with fulfilling desires and running from creeps. I fear that each time I feel joy from a children’s movie, it’s because I was never able to feel like a kid. That the plan to bite a chunk of flesh off my next attacker isn’t a normal thought to have. Maybe I matured too early, but I was twelve when I first thought of being catcalled. I know I never had a say in when I matured. I never had a say in my first sexual experience. I never had a say in what would happen in the city.

I have a say in me. I have a say in whose I’ll be, and I’d rather be my whore than his.

Featured image credit to Alexander Kovalev on Pexels.

This article was originally published online in the Fall 2022 issue titled Growing Pains.

“I think about how every year before, I was scared of being what others perceived as a tramp, but maybe I could be one without guilt.”

The Throne of the Least Favorite

By Ryan Hiemenz

Many of the nearby movie theaters have swapped to an automated approach to buying tickets. You can walk right in, either with tickets pre-purchased on your phone, or you can buy them using a kiosk in the lobby. It’s completely possible, and even common to get movie tickets without interacting with another human being. I tend to despise talking to people, so most of the time this is a lovely advancement in movie theater technology. That being said, sometimes that ease is just not in the cards for me.

Last week, I went to a local AMC theater to see Blumhouse’s new horror flick, The Black Phone. For whatever reason, their kiosks were down so I had to actually talk to the worker to purchase my ticket. Terrifying. I swallowed the vomit in my throat along with my fear and approached the desk. We talked and I got my ticket without a problem. After handing me my receipt, the worker says, “Enjoy the movie!” You know, like they usually do. Without realizing the atrocities I was about to commit, I replied, “You too!”

The lobby went silent. A mother dropped her

massive Pepsi on her youngest child. The popcorn from the concession stand burned. I looked back into the ticket desk worker’s now saddened eyes. How could they enjoy the movie too? How? You only bought one ticket! How!

I handed the worker my ticket and walked out the front door of the theater without looking back. It was too late for me there, there’s no coming back from that.

In between the inhuman convulsions on my ride home, I thought about how traumatic that experience was and how I may need to see a psychiatrist sooner rather than later. However, I soon remembered that this was not the most vile and dehumanizing experience of my life. No, despite the horrors of the last hour, there was still worse. I looked over my shoulder into the backseat of my car and that’s when I saw it.

The middle seat.

Have you heard the story of the toddler that died in the middle seat 14 years ago? No, you haven’t.

Because sitting in the middle is a fate far worse than death. It’s something sinister. Something that is almost unavoidable to each and every one of us. Something that haunts our everyday lives and often dictates the people we become. Something that might even guide a future car investment (those heroes who buy the cars without middle seats are deeply damaged, but they’re also preventing future damage at their hand).

Personally, I would rank the middle seat among some of the worst things imaginable. Right up there with racism and Arcadia’s one time password. I mean there simply isn’t a reason for them to exist aside from blatantly humiliating the victim unlucky enough to sit there. Lucky for me, I am the oldest child (and the favorite of course) in a family of four which means I am ALMOST immune to the horrors of the middle. The conflict did not come up super often because my brother and I had our respective sides and that was that thanks to it just being the two of us (sucks to suck families of five). However, this still wasn’t guaranteed, and the instances where I was confined to that middle seat still come up often with my therapist.

It’s already bad enough that you have to sit in the back seat, especially once you’re a “big kid,” but it’s utterly demoralizing to hop in and scoot to the middle, only to straddle that random bump on the floor for the whole ride. What even is that lump on the ground for anyway? Added discomfort? It’s bad enough that you get a faceful of lap or shoulder every time there’s a turn sharper than a 30 degree angle, but now you have to do it while your legs are elevated? What kind of godless Earth do we live on?I did some research on why this carpeted tumor might exist, turning to only the most reputable of sources when it comes to education: Reddit. I read about front wheel drive cars and rear wheel drive cars and how they both are so inefficient that they can’t help but spill their parts into the seating area of the car. Of course, that’s not actually what it said but I’m paraphrasing for your sake (you can thank me later). I even read an answer from bjornartl that explains, “It creates a slightly different height for hips and shoulders in the hopes of fitting people together like a zipper. Being higher also improves

the middle passenger’s chance of getting a view through the windows which is important in order to not get carsick and to not feel claustrophobic in the cramped space.” Which is actually just a load of bullshit because anyone who’s sat in the middle seat knows that it does exactly the opposite. In all of my research, I only found one response that truly made sense. Thank you drgonzo67 for the gem of an answer, “It’s to prevent homeless people from sleeping there.”

So, the way I see it these lumps only exist in the backseat as a good ol’ “fuck you” to the least favorite child of any given family. That’s not even the worst part either. I like my personal space just about as much as Phillip Jacobs does. So with that in mind, there’s nothing I desire more after a long ride squished between two people than to peel off my skin starting with my face. I don’t particularly like to cuddle up with my younger brother because my mom decided to take a sharp turn into the Wawa parking lot.

To be frank, I couldn’t give less of a damn about Elon Musk’s self-driving cars. I don’t want some technological marvel of a vehicle. All I need is one single automotive engineer to open their eyes. Maybe they were the least favorite child when they were younger, forced to the middle with no way out. And for that I am deeply sorry. But if you’re reading this, you can be the change. You can save the least favorite children of the future from suffering the same way you did. You can bring forward the next revolutionary change to the automotive industry.

Please, you’re our only hope.

Featured image credited to Maxim Hopman via Unsplash.

This article was originally published online win the Summer 2022 issue titled The Middle.

An Argument for Ice Age

By Belle Manetta

yourself in Diego as he struggles with the morality he was taught versus the morality of the world around him.

It’s not often that I throw around the word “masterpiece” when talking about movies. Sure, there are probably a lot of films that deserve this title. The Godfather? Maybe. 2001: A Space Odyssey? Perhaps.

However, I feel that there is certainly one movie that deserves it without any doubt in my mind. Despite its flaws and questionable sequels, this movie is most certainly a masterpiece:

Ice Age.

Yes, Ice Age, that 3D animated film from 2002 where a traumatized mammoth, a naïve sloth, and a homicidal sabretooth tiger help a baby find his family. This is one of the few films I believe deserves the title of “masterpiece.” Sure, the animation isn’t top notch and even ugly at times, but it was 2002. It gets a pass there.

Visuals are not what make this movie phenomenal. It’s the story. It’s the lovable cast of characters and their group dynamic. It’s the stellar charactear development that brought a tear to my eye upon watching it again. This film has it all. The on-foot adventure film with growing friendships and character development that Stand by Me only wishes it had.

The wonderful thing about this family movie is that it connects to everyone. Whether you’re a child or an adult, you can connect to any of the characters. You may empathize with Manny’s struggle to accept new friends back into his life after losing everyone he cared about. You may see

You may even see yourself in Sid, naïve yet pained in some way. The way these characters grow together and accept each other into their lives while on this journey is heartwarming and has lessons to teach every audience. At the end when they finally reunite the baby and his father and “the herd” (as they end up calling themselves) goes off on their next adventure, all of the characters have become better with each other around and their decision to stick together continues to warm the hearts of audiences today.

How could I bring up the excellence of Ice Age without even mentioning Scrat? Scrat, essentially the Mr. Bean of squirrels, is a resourceful and goofy creature whose only motivation is to reach his acorn. Some may see Scrat’s presence in the movie as a way to get some cheap laughs from the kids watching. However, Scrat’s time in the film is very memorable and purposeful, as some events would not have occurred without his shenanigans. When the movie leaves the herd to show Scrat’s adventures, it helps break some of the tension of the previous scenes. Some comic relief, some purpose.

Are all of the movies in the Ice Age Cinematic Universe on par with the excellence of the first? No, not really, as the quality decreases exponentially with each one. But that’s what makes the first one so special. The other movies’ bad qualities only enhance the fantastic qualities of the first, leaving the viewer wanting to watch the first one again instead. The fact that no other movie in the franchise was able to accomplish this same storytelling makes me certain that Ice Age is a once in a lifetime movie masterpiece.

Image Credit to Victor Serban.

This artile was originally published online in the Spring 2020 issue titled Cold Open.

A Love Letter to the In-Between

By Jewel Miller

I wasn’t looking forward to this summer.

I had been living on campus all year. As soon as finals wrapped up, I spent days consumed with my only task being to carefully dismantle the daily life that I had built up. Every funny post-it note my roommates had stuck to our wall; every Cheez-it box, beat up school notebook, and half-used bottle of dish detergent. I filled my car until I could barely see through the rear mirror, and then I drove home to where my stuffy and untouched bedroom was waiting for me.

I like my bedroom. I like being at home. But after a long semester filled with exciting highs and lows, the idea of being home with three months of low-key time ahead of me felt astonishingly neutral. I spent a lot of those first few days at home thinking either about the semester that had just passed or all the things I wanted to do in the one ahead.

As of a week or so ago, I am halfway through the summer I was dreading. I’m sandwiched in a transitional period not only between my sophomore and junior year of college, but also a viral infection that is awkwardly establishing itself as a permanent fixture in society, a chaotic cluster of various government and world issues that have yet to reach closure, and a period in my life where i’m trying to be better in every possible way but haven’t quite made it there yet.

Being caught in the middle is frustrating. I want to fast forward to that movie I’m going to see this weekend, or to that fall semester with new and exciting challenges, or to the day when I finally have it all figured out (which realistically is not a singular day that will ever come). Like with a book, I want to know how it all ends. But we’re not there yet.

Where I am is at my grandparents house spending time with family in the midst of a handful of personal deadlines and worries. More specifically, I’m sitting on the back porch with my dog and drinking up the last little bit of cool morning air before it becomes sweltering outside.

I think the phrase “living in the moment” is cliche, but not illegitimate. Sometimes it feels like an idealized concept, implying that the moment is a good one, when sometimes it isn’t. Sometimes it’s a stressful tear-filled late night doing schoolwork, or the agonizing drive back from campus, or an uneventful morning in the middle of July when the day hasn’t quite begun yet.

It may not be an exciting day or even a good one at all, but sometimes you look through your window during that terrible all-nighter and discover that the stars really do look bright that night, or you put on your favorite playlist during that commute, or you realize that sitting outside that morning is quite nice after all. In that moment, it matters a lot less that you’re wedged in this weird space between all the things you’ve done and all the things you want to do, or that you aren’t quite where you daydream of being right now, because this is your right-now. We exist in the in-between, so we might as well find something to like about it.

These have been just a few ‘right-nows’ from the past few weeks. When I took just a quick break from thinking about everything else to appreciate the in-between. As it happens, once I started looking, the view was pretty good.

This article was originally published online in the Summer 2022 issue titled The Middle.

The Next Millennials

By Conrad Schmidt

What defines Gen Z? It may seem an extremely general question to ask, but with so many of us fiercely declaring that we are not Millennials, it’s becoming an increasingly important question. Pew Research Center designates birthdays between 1997 and 2012 as Generation Z, but the identity behind the title has made strictly defining the generation controversial. From sometime in the mid-90’s to sometime in the mid aughts, Gen Z was born, though many grayer and less interesting generations argue it ended much later. As someone born in 2002, I guarantee you I can get along with someone older than me far better than the terrifying online generation of post-2007 babies.

Gen Z really came to identifiable prominence during the pandemic; before this, Gen Z was still in its relative infancy. The conversation in the 2010’s was more focused around Millennials still living with mom, and less interested in the upcoming quirky teenage generation born during 9/11. Through TikTok, Gen Z found a community of like-minded and like-aged individuals that had nothing better to do in the spring of 2020 except create an identity around being a teenager. In the coming months, and now years, Generation Z has become a term that the older generations find synonymous with young, and that the younger generations take pride in joining– or avoiding.

Fast forward to today and Millennials are now ruthlessly ridiculed by Generation Z and younger, and many Millennials have taken a long, namebrand pause before asking “what happened?” They were the first online generation, the 90’s babies that got a trophy for showing up, and then invented Instagram (as comedian Iliza Schlesinger so wisely self-analyzed). How did the heavily ironic, random humor that brought them so much notoriety bring them so much damnation from Gen Z? Even the charms of their skinny jeans and side parts couldn’t save them from the vitriol

The all-new LocoMag column, Smoking Section, presents:

“The young generation is young no more, and as they enter their 4th decade of adulting, they may want to consider rebranding.”

of the youth. The young generation is young no more, and as they enter their 4th decade of adulting, they may want to consider rebranding.

Gen Z, on the other hand, is a cultural cohort that is bonded through social media. Being indigenous to the internet transcends our other demographics, and through TikTok, Gen Z went from a loosely associated demographic cohort to a caricature of a teenager. Split-dyed hair, infuriatingly eclectic personal style, downturned eyeliner, copious jewelry, and a fair-weathered attention for social justice have come to Flanderize Gen Z only a few years into our reign as the preeminent cool and young generation.

We pride ourselves on our individuality, just so long as it checks the right boxes. Make no mistake, just because Gen Z dresses like we don’t care about the rules, does not mean there’s not a deeper longing for structure lying beneath our Ordinary brand moisturized skin. Generation Z

lennials dropped their rebellious “99%” attitudes for a life wandering the aisles of Target, shopping for needless trinkets for themselves or their inhumanely named children, Braydon, Craydon, Bashton, Crashton, McKayleigh and McKinley.

Like our predecessors Gen Z, too, will soon leave behind our virtue signaling, performatively individualistic personas for some unforeseen Kafkaeqsue destiny, being laughed at by Gen Alpha for our once cutting-edge tastes. Back into the pulse of cringe culture, Gen Z will have had a good run.

This isn’t cause for concern, though. Whether you’re a proud Gen Z, currently nursing cognitive dissonance after reading the above, or you’re an inbetweener born between ‘95 and ‘00, aimlessly wandering through life without a demographic cohort to sycophantically place your devotion, there’s no need to worry. Regardless of if you identify with the latent cringe culture of the Millennials or the upcoming cringe culture of Gen Z, Generation Alpha will soon overtake us all as the en vogue cool generation, grandfathering Millennials into obscurity, and mercilessly mocking Gen Z. But never fear, babies that have yet to be born will be our saviors. They’ll inevitably overtake Generation Alpha, giving them a taste of their karmic medicine and avenge all of us soon-to-be oldies and our clearly timeless tastes. Let’s be thankful for this nameless generation tipping the scales back to balance. Long live Generation Not-Yet-Born.

is fiercely confined to a gilded cage of our own naïve design. What really sets our generation apart is our adherence to rules in an anarchic state. Self-imposed rules of style, speaking, and branding let us show the world we’re unique– as long as it’s in the right ways. In the pursuit of personal definition we’ve become suffocatingly individualistic.

It doesn’t really matter what Gen Z does to differentiate ourselves, nor what we do to ridicule the generations that came before us. There remains one simple fact about Generation Z: we are the next Millennials. Just as the mythical Baby Boomers shed their anti-Vietnam, longhair façades to become suit-and-tie Wolves of Wall Street, so Mil-

This article was originally published as part of an all new column titled “Smoking Section”, written by Conrad Schmidt:

“The Smoking Section is a cultural observation column where I dissect a subject that Gen Z holds near and dear to their heart. As a member of Generation Z, I think it’s important that we take a step back and remember that life is not that serious, and no topic is too good to ridicule. In the Smoking Section, we take a step outside of the party for a breath of less-fresh air. Here if you don’t have anything nice to say, pull up a chair next to me.”

The featured image art for Smoking Section was created by Lauren Schmidt.

“Back into the pulse of cringe culture, Gen Z will have had a good run.”

Ranking Meds from Worst to Meh

By Scrap

I used to go out ~4 nights a week. Days without sleep wouldn’t phase me. Now, I need three weeks to recover from one all-nighter. Time flies when you’re taking medications to treat your severe mental illnesses. No seriously, I can’t remember shit. . . Anyways!

A lot of people spread various misconceptions and stigmas regarding severe mental illness.

A lot of people should be punched in the face.

Living day to day with the crushing weight of symptoms and side effects on your back is work. It is hard work. Nobody gets it, everybody is weirded out by it or scared of it, and so many people resent you for it. but I’m protected by the ADA so kiss my 504 bittttchhhhhh.

Not only is it work living with various mental illnesses, it’s work finding treatment that even helps you. Throughout the years I’ve had many therapists, diagnoses, and prescriptions. but I’m not writing a 15 page article, that’s no fun for me. Instead, I’ll be ranking medications I’ve taken from “worst to meh.”

The medications I’ll be ranking will be specifically the prescriptions for the treatment of my Bipolar I disorder. Again, for the sake of length. Different medications work differently for different people. This is my personal experience and opinion and I’m just having fun. Take my words with a grain of salt, as I am just some insane person writing on the internet. Let’s get into it!

WORST: Geodon (ziprasidone)

Death to ziprasidone inventors and prescribers. For months I experienced all side effects and no relief. God forbid you take your dose even two hours late, and if you missed a dose? I hope you make it through the day without ending up in a pair of gripper socks. Nausea, vomiting, dizziness, somnolence (do not take ziprasidone in the morning, you will be asleep by 2pm), and splitting fucking headaches. DO NOT stop your ziprasidone cold turkey, the withdrawal kills. Cocaine, alcohol, amphetamine withdrawal: all very difficult for me, but a walk in the park compared to three days off of Geodon. I cannot stress this enough: taper, taper, taper.

HORRIBLE: Latuda (lurasidone)

Lurasidone will have you flushing your remaining doses of lurasidone down the toilet. Then give you a horrific paranoid delusion that flushing said doses down the toilet will be met with huge repercussions. Suddenly it’s been three full hours of frantic google searching about what happens if lurasidone enters waste water and how that may affect the ecosystem. There is a huge gap in the research of lurasidone in fish. Insomnia and restlessness. Like the uncomfortable amount of energy present in mania but minus the confidence and double the suicidal ideation. I will say though, the 19 hour sleep after I stopped taking it HIT.

LOUSY: Abilify (aripiprazole)

With aripiprazole, there is a fairly even balance between manic and depressive symptoms. Suicidal, yes, but coping with a shopping spree. If only the restless leg syndrome and weight gain weren’t so severe. I mean 40 pounds, really?

MEH: Lamictal (lamotrigine)

Lamotrigine is . . . fine. No long-term or alarming symptoms of mania or depression, for the most part. The belching is a fun touch. The headaches, and vomiting not so much. When you first start taking it, there’s a disruption in sleep pattern. But sometimes that disruption manifests as a dream of WWE wrestlers doing a trapeze act. And wow, is that something.

That concludes my ranking. Hopefully after reading this, you’ll consider being nicer to the insane people in your life. Okay, I have to take my meds. Until next time.

Featured image credit to Cottonbro Studio.

This article was originally published online in the Fall 2022 issue titled Growing Pains.

Growing up in the Bad Lands

By Ethan Rodriguez

My father’s side of the family was especially doubtful of my ability to make it to college. The Rodriguez family, the side of the family I got my last name from, runs a circus of their own. Each cousin that was a girl already had 2 kids by the time they were 17. Each cousin that was a boy was selling drugs, doing drugs, or in jail (usually for selling drugs).

Growing up in North Philadelphia comes with its struggles. It’s not the most glamorous place in the world, especially if you were living in the Kensington area like I was. A lot of locals nickname it the “Bad Lands”. The main reason it’s called the Bad Lands is because there’s an ongoing opioid epidemic.

In certain areas (usually train stations) you’ll find needles littered on the ground. You’ll find people on the corner shooting up, and others leaning up against walls or laying on the sidewalk. There was a point in time where I literally had to step over someone, who was high on who knows what, just to get to school. I was twelve.

Alongside the opioid epidemic, it goes without saying that I come from a low-income neighborhood. This neighborhood was predominantly populated by black and brown individuals. Most of the people I knew were pregnant, on the streets dealing drugs or high school dropouts by 16. It was an intimidating place for someone who just wanted to go to college. In fact, I remember family members doubting me when I told them I wanted to attend college someday. “Cuando los cerdos vuelen”, they’d say. (“When pigs fly”)

I had a lot against me. I ran the risk of repeating the mistakes of my community by just existing in it.

Each one of my aunts and uncles is living off welfare and disability (99% of them were lying to their insurance companies), and chose not to work because of their dependency on government checks. Most never finished high school, and many died along the way; including my father. Despite that, there was no way that I was going to end up like them.

Speaking from the perspective of someone who had to deal with that, and still ended up in college, there’s definitely some pride there. How could I not be proud of becoming everything my family isn’t?

Unfortunately, there are still the scars of someone who had to grow up without a dad. There are still the scars of a child who wanted more from life but nobody was willing to hand that to me. There are still the scars of the doubtful, mean, hurtful, and selfish words spoken to me when I was just a kid. Sometimes I can still hear the echo of their voices in my head. Sometimes I wonder if it would be easier to fall into their way of life. Though, without even realizing it, I guess I was able to make pigs fly.

Featured Image credit to Mike Conway.

This article was originally published online in the Fall 2022 issue titled Growing Pains.

Luckily There’s a Family Guy!

By Belle Manetta

“It seems today, That all you see, Is violence in movies and sex on TV, But where are those good old-fashioned values, On which we used to rely?”

Well, apparently, they are taking over Tik Tok, swarming the site with clips over shitty mobile gameplay of some of the least creative games I’ve ever seen.

That’s right, Family Guy is streaming on Tik Tok. No, it’s not actually streaming in the practical sense. The episodes are cut into 1-3 minute clips to put into separate Tik Toks, so they’re broken into parts that you have to find on the account. Oftentimes, they will have random cuts in them to avoid copyright issues. Oh, and of course, the shitty mobile gameplay I mentioned before. This is a

phenomenon that has taken over many accounts across the platform.

Now, I am not, nor have I ever been, a Family Guy fan. I’ve never really wanted to be one either, it just has never been a part of my personal interests. My Tik Tok for you page back in the early months of the year started to show me Reddit posts over mobile gameplay. Now, these videos I would watch occasionally. I do enjoy an occasional “Am I the Asshole?” post or just a general crazy ass Reddit post. It’s fun from time to time, like a minute long reality TV show that I can’t see and don’t have to get very invested in. I love ‘em.

Then that genre of content started to shift. In April, I noticed that the mobile gameplay was accompanied by Family Guy clips. Like, just ones you’d see in “Family Guy Funny Moments Compilation 6”. Then, they’d start breaking up whole episodes. Sometimes, they’d post clips with no continuation or previous context that had absolutely zero jokes or plot. It’s bizarre.

And it doesn’t stop getting recommended to me. I get an absurd number of Family Guy clips on my for you page every goddamn day. To the point where I get repeated clips and episodes. I can fucking recognize them. Stewie is laying in bed reading Michelle Obama’s book and he gets into a fight with his stuffed bear Rupert? I have seen it more than I have seen my own mother. So, I figured, why not give Family Guy a chance? If I have to see it every fucking day then why not? Why not? Why. Not.

making jokes about

Chuckle counter: 2

My review: I didn’t think people still found saying vaguely Italian things and pretending it’s the Italian language was funny, but here we are. I’m not saying that in like a “stop making fun of Italians wahh wahh!!” way, I’m saying it more like that’s a joke I’d make in middle school. I don’t know. Just boring and exceedingly unfunny. I don’t know. I hate Peter, he makes me want to rip my tongue out.

“Candy, Quahog Marshmallow” S14E10

So, I scrolled for a half hour to see what episodes it would give me and I decided to watch whatever episodes I saw. I thought it’d be fine.

I thought it’d be fine.

I got 33 episodes. Not counting the multiple episodes I got recommended to me two times. That’s more than one Family Guy clip a minute.

I couldn’t do that to myself. Absolutely fucking not. Seth McFarlane fuck off, I won’t do that. So, I narrowed it down to the first 10 episodes it gave me. I watched them and kept track of how many times per episode that I chuckled—by chuckle I mean exhaled sharply through my nose and smiled a little. There was one singular moment in all 10 episodes where I actually laughed. Not like for a long time, but still an actual “haha”. Here are some brief reviews on each episode I watched.

Chuckle counter: 0

My review: I enjoyed the idea of this episode. One of the main characters starring in a K-Drama that they all get invested in and go all the way to South Korea to find the missing last episode? Sounds like a blast! But it wasn’t. Now, I’m white, so I cannot properly comment on the nuances of race and Family Guy’s jokes and portrayal of race. That said, these jokes sound, again, directly out of the mouths of middle schoolers. Seth McFarlane is an adult man writing these jokes. Why do you, as an adult man, feel the need to write jokes like this? Most of the jokes in this episode rely on Korean and general East Asian stereotypes that are

“La Famiglia Guy” S19 E5

“You’re

Asian people eating dogs, Seth? You are an adult. Pay your taxes or something I don’t know. Go outside and think critically for like one second.”

just so stupid. You’re making jokes about Asian people eating dogs, Seth? You are an adult. Pay your taxes or something I don’t know. Go outside and think critically for like one second. Your jokes are neither funny nor smart.

“Who’s Brian Now?” S19 E16

Chuckle counter: 0

My review: I don’t remember much of this episode other than “the Griffin family is stupid but Brian the talking dog is smart!!!!”. This episode left no lasting impact on me.

“Vestigial Peter” S12 E2

Chuckle counter: 1

My review: This was one of the better episodes I watched, I think. It wasn’t good, but I didn’t absolutely hate watching it. It was like the equivalent of me putting on a random, nonsense YouTube video as background noise for whatever task I’m doing. It was certainly an episode of a television show!

“Meet the Quagmires” S5 E18

Chuckle counter: 0

My review: Basically the same as the last episode in that I definitely watched it! I certainly consumed the contents of the episode! Yup! Not particularly funny, but eh. Whatever.

“He’s Bla-ack!” S12 E20

Chuckle counter: 0

My review: The audacity. The balls. The absolute gall Family Guy has to comment on the entertainment factor of other shows. This episode is one in which Cleveland, one of the few characters in the show that I can tolerate consistently, makes his return to Quahog following the failure of his solo show The Cleveland Show. I’ve never seen The Cleveland Show, but my roommate Lauren claims it actually wasn’t that bad. I have seen enough of American Dad! to know that Seth McFarlane shows can be more entertaining than Family Guy. American Dad! is by no means a perfect show,

but I am more entertained by it than I ever have been by Peter and his dumb fucking family. But for the Family Guy writers to not only start bashing Cleveland and his show for not being funny enough, but to make “self-aware jokes” about the writing of Seth McFarlane did not come off as funny and smart. It further solidified my feeling that Family Guy was not trying to be the best it could be in any sense. I don’t think comedy needs to be smart in order to be good, so in reality Family Guy writers don’t need to try super hard. Hell, one of the times I chuckled at this show was seeing the caption “Hurt Ball Noises” so I’m not hard to please. And then to bash The Cleveland Show by saying it got similar ratings or something to Bob’s Burgers??? Shut the fuck up. Tell me which show actually got their movie made. Tell me, Seth. Fuck you.

“Family Guy Lite” S17 E14

Chuckle counter: 2

My review: Now, this was the only episode in which I actually audibly laughed. Lois, about to be killed by two kidnappers, saying “No! Don’t let two white women make a podcast about my disappearance!” was the only moment in the whole 10 episodes that I felt like I enjoyed what I was watching. Anyways, this episode felt very fast paced. They all did, as to account for the mass amounts of cutaways they like to fit into their episodes, but everything with Alana seemed normal and then Lois just kinda went “she seems suspicious” and then she was. Like it just felt very fast, but whatever. Also, Elizabeth Gillies was in this? Cool, good for her, hope it paid well girlboss.

Chuckle counter: 1

My review: It feels like any time a show has a fat protagonist, an episode is made in which they have to lose weight in order to function properly and in order to get some laughs. I’m just tired of seeing “Haha this guy is FAT and has to lose weight!! Fat is funny!! Seeing fat guy try to lose weight is funny!!”. And I’m sure this is neither the first nor the last episode where Family Guy has an episode surrounding Peter needing to lose weight. Also, doesn’t Lois cheat on Peter a lot? Like multiple times? Have I gathered that correctly from all the clips Tik Tok has shown me? So why does she get on a soapbox at the end about how she writes about her fantasies so she doesn’t act on them? Lois, you could have been doing this this whole fucking time?! Lois, I’m all for supporting women, but I hope you die. (Editors of this article, was that too much?).

“Underage Peter” S14 E14

“All About Alana” S20 E17

Chuckle counter: 0

My review: Yet another episode that I enjoy the idea of but wasn’t entertained by the execution. The idea of a middle aged man doing something so fucked up while drunk that they have to raise the drinking age to 50 is a funny concept. That said, it was just another episode. I don’t know, it existed. It certainly exists. One of the better ones, but not enough.

“Hard Boiled Meg” S20

E15

1

My review: Eh. It was an episode. I appreciate the full circle ending it kind of had, I enjoyed that. But other than that, it was another episode I kind of just felt okay about. But, compared to some others, I’ll take that any day.

With all that said and done, I think it’s interesting how many episodes from the later seasons of the show I was given. Out of the 33 episodes I was shown, only 7 episodes were from before season 11. Tik Tok seems to love modern day Family Guy for whatever reason.

I have many other issues with this show, obviously. Like why do the Griffins give Stewie a solo in the theme song when they don’t know he can talk? They reference the fact that they sing a theme song in episodes and joke about practicing it. Peter and Lois do not know Stewie can talk. Chris and Meg can kind of understand him sometimes, but not always I don’t think. But I don’t think Chris and Meg are the ones giving out solos. Did Peter and Lois, while assigning parts to the

theme song, think “We need to have someone sing these lines but poor Stewie hasn’t had a solo yet so let’s give these three words to him!” thinking that this motherfucker would just “googoo gaga” into the microphone?? WHY DOES HE HAVE A PART IF PETER AND LOIS DON’T THINK HE CAN TALK?!!

But, now is not the time nor place to air out all of my grievances. I hate Family Guy. I hate Peter and Lois Griffin. I think it is a mostly unfunny show from what I have seen, as a lot of its humor caters to those who haven’t thought about comedy past the age of 13. It has its moments, but overall I don’t see why it is still around. Could I write a comedy show? Probably not. I understand a lot of work goes into that. I am not saying I could do what Seth McFartlane is doing at all. I just think Family Guy has no reason to show itself on my for you page when it has no right to be there.

I hit “not interested” on these clips so many times. And yet, my escape doesn’t seem possible. Am I a fool for assuming I can escape? Will I one day be free from Peter and his taunts? Will Seth ever stop his relentless pursuit to make me miserable? I don’t know. I do not know and that scares me. God, if you exist and are reading this article, please let me go. I am a sinner, I know. But what did I do to deserve this? Are you one with the Griffins? Am I a potential convert? Oh God, he’s here now. Peter is fucking here across the room from me I’m so scared. HE’S CHARGING AT ME. I AM NOT LONG FOR THIS WORLD. HELP ME!! HELP—

“He’s A Family Guyyyyyyyyyyy!!!”

All images in this article credited to Fox Broadcasting Company.

This artile was originally published online in the Fall 2022 issue titled Growing Pains.

Chuckle counter:

Trends or Moments in Time That Had Too Much of an Influence on Me

By Sierra Pizzilio

1. Webkinz 2006-2010

When it came to Webkinz, I was not playing around. I think I was trying to gatekeep the website back in 1st grade because I thought I was the first kid to ever discover it. Catch me making movies, having parties in my Webkinz house, and actually feeding my pets! RIP my password has not been recovered. (Image credited to bestgirls4 on Youtube).

2. I Heart Boobies bracelets (2 months In 2010)

To be honest, I have no words. These bracelets were popular at my school (I have no clue if this was universal or not) and they were sold for breast cancer awareness. I was 9 and wearing an “I heart boobies bracelet” I have no clue where I got it from because how would a 9-year-old obtain such a piece of art. All the cool older kids had them so I obviously had to have one. I had the blue one until it was taken from me at school by my 4th-grade teacher. (Image credited to jmontazeri7 on Twitter).

3. Clothes from Justice 2007-2011

I owned this shirt… yes. I thought I was a trendsetter. Especially with the cami underneath. Justice sold the most hideous children’s clothes. It ruined all my childhood photos. I can’t believe I walked out of the house wearing this. It took me five years to stop buying their clothes… FIVE YEARS. (Image credited to Emily Love on Pinterest).

4. Ugg boots 2011-2014

I can’t even explain this one. I just know I asked for UGG boots every year for Christmas. I ain’t even mad about this, I still wear their moccasins but damn are they expensive. I would buy knockoffs now. (Image credited to SheKnows).

5. Starbucks Frappuccino 2013-2015

Starbucks frappuccinos were very popular when I was in middle school. My friends and I would walk to Starbucks on busy ass roads just for a double chocolaty chip frappuccino. I would save up birthday money just for my Starbucks purchases throughout the year. (Image credited to iStock).

6. Peace signs in EVERY PHOTO EVER (2013-Now)

I also can’t explain this one. It was just necessary to put a peace sign in every photo. Doesn’t matter where, doesn’t matter when, the peace sign will indeed be there. This is probably the one thing I still may do from time to time. So sad, anyways...

7. Editing my photos with VSCO filters (2015-2016)

I remember people were using filters to make “themes” on their Instagram pages and I had to do the same. I would try to make all my photos have a blue tint, and I thought they looked so good. I still have the photos on my Instagram and if I scroll down to stalk, it really shows a big difference.

8.

Skateboarding

and Pennyboarding (2014-2015) I remember penny boards were “in” and they looked cool but were not practical for me. I used to skateboard as a kid so I was good with riding them but I liked it more for the “aesthetic” probably. I then stopped penny boarding and riding my longboard. I go bath and forth with if I actually enjoyed this as a hobby or if was it just a trend. I think it started out as a trend and then I made it a hobby because I actually enjoyed riding longboard and skateboards. (Image credited to PennySkateboards.com).

This article was originally published online in the Fall 2022 issue titled Under the Influence.

Gardening: My Extreme Sport

By Leigh Ferrier

Growing things and taking care of plants has brought me a lot of joy in my life. It’s also broken my heart on more than one occasion. Gardening is not for the weak. Taking care of something only for it to eventually die can easily trigger an existential crisis. Where did I go wrong? What could I have done differently? Why is life so fragile? Soon you come to realize the excessive cruelty that lies in nature–from disastrous and unbearable weather conditions to ruthless animals destroying the very things you hold dear.

Gardening and even taking care of houseplants can be one of those hobbies that seems really romantic, and it can be, but it can also be tough. At one professional gardening company I worked for, someone had quit their office job to be a full-time estate gardener. Once the reality and the hard labor set in, he snuck off during his lunch break to never be seen again. Growing things at home is much more gratifying than doing it professionally, to me at least, but still, have you ever crawled around on the ground pulling out weeds in the dead of summer? It’s not exactly fun. Satisfying, maybe, but grueling.

Other than working as a gardener professionally, I’ve also worked on farms, and even now that I

have a desk job, I still have a healthy amount of house plants and several gardens I tend to around my house. I’ve become very familiar with the dirt underneath my fingernails, and watching everything come up in Spring is one of my favorite moments each year. Growing perennials allows you to see plants coming back from the dead–an entire life cycle, death and rebirth and oftentimes, change. Bulbs will multiply, seeds will spread to other corners of the garden, bushes will grow back bigger and wilder, and everything becomes more harmonious.

This year, 2022, was not so kind to me. A little vole infestation had caused my bulbs to cease to exist, leaving patches of emptiness where my big, leafy canna lilies used to thrive. My beautiful, spiky, purple liatris, that I waited an entire year to flower the first time–gone. My peach-colored rose bush that I planted just at the end of last year–dead. My kale, my radishes, pepper plants, and even my marigolds, the flowers I’d planted to keep the animals away, decimated. My tomatoes survived only to be severely munched on by tomato hornworms and birds and something else unidentifiable.

My garden looks like shit this year. Every time I’m watering the mess, I can only reassure myself that I’ll do better next summer. Things have to be moved around to better fill up space, new bulbs have to be bought, and more soil has to be added to fill up the vole tunnels and the gaps where water escapes and things dry up faster. I have to cut everything back to keep critters from becoming too comfortable in my garden over winter and to ensure that the perennials grow back green and beautiful and budding. I should probably also mulch again for the first time in two years. It’s a lot of work for a hobby, but I like to see life, and I still like to see things grow, even after all the disappointment.

It hasn’t been all bad, though. The cool thing is that the birds, the bees, and the hummingbird moths don’t know that my garden looks like a garbage pile. If it has flowers and seeds and bugs, they still show up. It’s kind of amazing when you have a small ecosystem in your yard–an entire city of pill bugs, ants, spiders, worms, and various feathered, furry, and webbed things. I complain about the animals eating my stuff, but then I also welcome them in. My roommate and I realized that some mice had been playing around in our recycling, so what did we do? We built them a house out of cardboard. I can’t complain too much if I’m not exactly kicking anyone out, can I? We’re all just trying to live, and those mice have probably made friends with the voles and that weird brown rat I see from time to time. What can I say? It’s a community here.

We’re living in some weird times, and while it feels like the world is falling apart around me, I’ve been able to find comfort in growing things. I feel lucky to be around my plants and the creatures that are drawn to them. This is my version of an extreme sport. I’ve been poked and cut and stung and jabbed by all kinds of things, but I still return. Is it risky business? Sure? Am I continually setting myself up for disappointment? Sometimes. Can it be hard work that I don’t feel like doing at the end of a long day? Yeah, absolutely. But do I ever get tired of seeing a seed sprout, a zinnia bloom, or seeing a fern poke through the soil and unfurl itself in the Spring? Never.

This article was originally published online in the Fall2022 issue Growing Pains.

“It’s a lot of work for a hobby, but I like to see life, and I still like to see things grow, even after all the disappointment.”

A Growing Campus’ Growing Pains

By Jake Horan

arguably more urgent projects that could be undertaken on Arcadia’s main campus.

In February 2022, Arcadia University finalized a deal with the Archdiocese of Philadelphia to purchase Bishop McDevitt High School in an effort to expand the campus footprint. The property, which includes over 18 acres of land, nearly 96,000 square feet of classroom space, as well as various athletic fields and parking lots, sold for $6.5 million last winter and is located just steps from Arcadia’s Oak Summit Apartments. In 2014 the university signed an agreement with Bishop McDevitt allowing Arcadia athletics teams to utilize the high school’s athletic facilities for at least the next 40 years. However, Bishop McDevitt closed its doors after the 2020-2021 school year, at which point the university saw the opportunity to expand its campus and took it. What Arcadia plans on doing with its new facilities has yet to be revealed, however rumors are swirling of using the high school for things like chemistry labs, physical therapy classrooms, and space for a potential division-three football team.

However, $6.5 million is a large price to pay to expand campus when there are equally large and

Since acquiring the massive Oak Summit apartment complex, located adjacent to campus, a number of years ago, few renovations have been done to much of the building leaving it looking dull, dingy, and dated as well as presenting numerous and recurring issues for the university and it’s students. Personally, just this year my apartment in Oak Summit has had a plethora of issues that could be avoided with both more regular maintenance and renovation. First, upon move-in I found out my apartment had a Bee infestation lasting the first two weeks of the semester and which was never successfully exterminated. I’ve also had issues with an HVAC system that cools the apartment with varying degrees of success and leaks water into the laundry room every few days. There have also been issues with cloudy windows, leaky faucets, and a sliding door that doesn’t lock and rattles in the wind. I’m positive that similar issues are abundant in the aging complex, but there are also significant issues with the aesthetics of the complex. I understand that these are college apartments and aren’t necessarily expected to be luxurious, but furniture and fixtures that look like they’re from this century would make a huge difference.

Arcadia University officials attending a flag-raising ceremony at the former Bishop McDevitt high school Image credit: Glenside Local

An example of an updated apartment in Oak Summit. Most apartments still have walled-off kitchens with laminate cabinets and countertops from the 70’s and shag carpeting or parquet wood floors. Image credit: Arcadia University

I understand Arcadia’s drive to expand some of their most popular programs and athletics with the purchase of Bishop McDevitt, but are the students that this expansion attracts really going to want to live in a building that is constantly in need of maintenance and looks like it’s stuck in the 1970’s? Much of the same can be said about the dorms on campus. These buildings are old, and while they’re simpler to maintain and upgrade, still have their fair share of issues including, notably, instances of mold and rodents in the connected buildings. Even without those issues, simple renovations to the dorms could also become a great point of attraction to potential students.

ent. Aside from being in need of a facelift, Taylor is also the only academic building to not have any central air conditioning, creating what must be a difficult learning environment during the beginning and end of an academic year.

Aside from extensively upgrading some existing campus facilities, another place that could have benefitted from the money that Arcadia spent on Bishop McDevitt is in club funding. While most clubs, who all receive their funding allotments from Student Government (SGO), don’t require exuberant amounts of money to fund their events for the year. There are some specific circumstances in which the student activity fee that all students pay just isn’t enough. Since last Spring, I’m sure most Arcadia students have heard about the Media and Communications department working to restart The Arc radio station on campus, of which there has been a huge interest in. While the university may make it sound like the radio station is operational, the actual story is quite different. My boyfriend, Alejandro, is one of the people who originally pitched in to help restart The Arc and was promised that the club would have $50,000 to buy new equipment and renovate the booth located in the dining complex. What he wound up receiving was $300 to buy a turntable and some paint. While he’s trying to get more funding this year to continue making improvements, right now I don’t think anyone would call The Arc operational.

Speaking of buildings that could use an upgrade, the most dated and unequipped classroom building on campus is undoubtedly Taylor Hall. Taylor, being one of the oldest academic buildings on campus, aside from Murphy and Spruance, has missed out on several opportunities for upgrades and renovations as buildings like Boyer and Brubaker-Easton have been built. Currently, Taylor Hall, which is known for being the building for education majors, presents much like a high school. Its long hallways lined with classrooms are dark and dingy. Its classrooms aren’t much differ-

Buying Bishop McDevitt was undoubtedly a great public relations opportunity for Arcadia. Additionally, owning land close to the rest of campus to expand the most popular programs and sports ventures at the university has the potential to boost student recruitment. However, it was also a major oversight by the university not to make meaningful changes on campus to systems and facilities that are constantly in use, not just for the existing student body, but to further cater to those students whom this campus expansion may attract.

This article was originally published online in the Fall 2022 issue titled Growing Pains.

“I understand Arcadia’s drive to expand their most popular programs and athletics with the purchase of Bishop McDevitt, but are the students that this attracts really going to want to live in a building that is constantly in need of maintenance and looks like it’s stuck in the 1970’s?”

Loco Mag: A Semester in Review

This year the LocoMag staff created a bunch of cool things, whether it be never-before-seen social media graphics or the grand reawakening of the For Loco podcast. Let’s take a look at some of what we created this semester...

We revived the For loco podcast, originally hosted by Loco staff rembers Paulie Ippolito, Austen Zotomayor, and later Nick Kelly way back in Fall of 2017:

“Loco Mag’s beloved podcast, For Loco, has returned. Back and better than ever, we kick off the second “season” of this podcast with beloved staff members Belle and Scrap. This dynamic duo teams up to discuss various drugs and their opinions on them. We promise this isn’t like Joe Rogan.”

Scan the QR code to listen!

Created by Claire for “Under the Influence”

Staff members Belle and Claire created some fun issue-appropriate social media graphics:

Created by Claire for “Growing Pains”

Created by Belle for “Growing Pains”

Driver’s Ed

Written by Ryan Hiemenz

Since I’m a commuter I do quite a bit of driving every week and because I spend so much time in the car, I’ve found ways to entertain myself along the way. Sometimes the laughs come from another person along the trip, like the time I watched a mail person cut off the car that was trying to go around them while flipping the other driver off, only to stop at the next mailbox. Sometimes my entertainment comes from whatever I’m listening to at the time. Sometimes I also spend my rides thinking. Maybe I

Smoking Section

Written by Conrad Schmidt Featured graphic created by Lauren Schmidt

The Smoking Section is a cultural observation column where I dissect a subject that Gen Z holds near and dear to their heart. As a member of Generation Z, I think it’s important that we take a step back

Packed full of cool content, we hope you enjoyed reading some our top picks from the semester, and that you’ll check out more on the website. Until next time...

...and we saw the beginning of two new Loco Mag weekly columns: