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LET T ER FROM T HE EDITOR

P E ACO C K AUP STUDENT MEDIA 31 Avenue Bosque. Paris 75007

Welcome to Your Winter Peacock.

Vo l u m e 2 .1 W I NT ER 2 01 2

Constant communication. Disastrous drug abuse. Excessive erotica. This has come to be our theme song, the melodies of our youth. Remember when we used to play outside? No one else will. Instead, they live in fear of their friendly, neighborhood pedophiles. Each generation has come to move in many directions – forwards, backwards, sideways, and spirals. What does this mean? Through exploration, we’ve come to see the trends that travel between trance and trauma. Since the American University of Paris opened its doors in 1962, students have gone from lives of quiet Puritanism to consensually meaningless sex. New illnesses are named for our mental maladies and we have a firsthand account of silent suffering. On page 24 you’ll find Peacock senior writer Lucie Moore describing her personal history with panic and anxiety. It’s a remarkable tale of redemption. We’ve constructed time and timelessness throughout the past fifty years and tried to see exactly where we’ve been and where we’re going. The long and short of it: quiet destruction in order to stay alive. Some things never change. Drugs, sex, and rock ‘n’ roll. Our cast of writers, photographers and editors tried to make sense of this voyage. Taking a cue from previous journeys down this road, this is our expedition into the Age of Disconnect. We hope you enjoy the ride, though best to buckle-up for safety.

EDITOR-IN-CHIEF Rachel Nielsen MANAGING EDITOR Maggie Centers ART DIRECTOR Rieko Whitfield CHIEF OF PHOTOGRAPHY William Graves SENIOR EDITORS Méline Agabaian Eunice Ahn Barbra Ramos ASSOCIAT E EDITORS Madi Riley Hilar y Daldorf COPY EDITOR Raeesa Hamid SENIOR WRIT ER Lucie Moore STAFF WRIT ERS Togzhan Kumekbayeva Juliana Uribe Emmeline Butler STAFF PHOTOGRAPHER Nina Ferreira CONT RIBUT ING WRIT ERS Naz Ali Danita Arefaine Hannah LaSala Shamayel Shalizi Angela Waters CONT RIBUT ING DESIGNER Tom Mull EXECUT IVE DIRECTOR F. Ford Leland ARCHIVIST Helina Baley T REASURER Jessica Lynch

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Rachel Nielsen Editor-in-Chief

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W I L L IAM GRAVES

PE ACOCK

WINT ER 2012

F E A T U R E S

C U LT U R E

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T HE AGE OF DISCONNECT Finding roots in our identities

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ON OUR PLAY LIST

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T HE ILLUST RAT ED LADIES

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MUSIC OF Y EST ERDAY

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GENERAT ION DEGENERAT ION

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DEBAUCHERY WIT H RIMK A

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Timelessness in France and the United States through photography

The rise of anxiety disorders, and why no one wants to talk about them

JOURNEY TO T HE SIXT H CIRLCE OF HELL

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DROPPING T HE ADDERALL BOMB

A living legend in Montmartre

Taking a dive at Ozu

GET T ING DOWN WIT H T HE GROUNDS

How to behave yourself when getting coffee

A personal account of the return from mental distress

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Up and coming: Sharon van Etten

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Dosing the masses

INT ERNET DOMINAT ION AND FEMINISM FAILURES

Kim Kardashian troops infest the world

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T HE MEDIUM IS T HE MESSAGE

Spray painting the message

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INF ILT RAT ING A LESBIAN BAR A visit into No Man’s Land

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TOKI’S CORNER

Fear of Missing Out

DREAM ON, LUCID DREAMERS

W I L L I A M GRAVES

Tips for active dreaming

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ON T HE COVER:

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P H OT O B Y W I L L I A M G R AV E S M O D E L : C A M I L L E P I T K E T H LY

The cover was shot on 35mm black and white negative film in a rudimentary studio. The films were developed by hand in the darkroom then enlarged onto photographic paper. The photograph is a play on Barry Lategan’s iconic 1966 shot of Twiggy, a British model, actress, and singer who was the face of the 60s.

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L I F E S T Y L E

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CIT Y OF HANDS

Visiting Antwerp’s past and present

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Behaving properly in today’s Paris

T EST YOURSELF BEFORE YOU WRECK YOURSELF A insider’s perspective to free clinics

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ON T HE ST REET S

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CRUEL SUMMER

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RECIPES

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BACKPAGE

PARIS T HROUGH T HE LIGHT LEAKS

Paris as seen through the Leica lens

MISS CONDUCT

Who’s wearing what

How tradition lives on after death

Risotto done easy

The way we were


T HE AGE OF

D I S C O N N E C T S T O R Y A N D P H OT O G R A P H Y B Y R I E K O W H I T F I E L D

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e live along a hyper-connected superhighway of computer codes and globalized capitalism. Everything is for sale. Our interest, desires, sexuality, our very bodies – everything we are is now a commodity. Our personal lives and relationships are bought and sold on Google search engines. Our friends reduce us to a Facebook profile. Our parents reduce us to a checking account. Our future reduces us to a sheet of paper. Behind the façade of insincerity and usernames, we are utterly empty. We are left to seek salvation in prescription pills and mindless escapism. Drunken frenzy or drugged hysteria, we seek comfort in the arms of strangers. In calculated synthetic beats, in syncopated lights, we are a generation of narcissists locked into the futile pursuit of the American Dream. Here we are living picturesque postcard lives in the city of lights. But somewhere in this pharmaceutical stupor, the varnish of romanticism is scumbled by cigarette butt gutters and graffiti war scars. Paris becomes just another metropolitan wasteland. Returning to bed in the unholy hours of the morning, we look into the mirror and no longer recognize our own reflection. In these cold, sobering moments we ask the dangerous question - what is real?

It is moments like these that we look to the past for a sense of catharsis. We feel nostalgic for our fabricated memories and cling to the past in a desperate search for identity. Where are the answers? It is only when we can look beyond our sentimentality that we can begin to analyze the historical, social, political, and economic chaos that has shaped our perception of reality and identity. Who are we? Our race, class, gender, sexuality and religion no longer define us. We are no longer a product of our parents’ advice. We are not the dogmatism of our pasts. Perhaps it is in this uncertainty we can revel in the historical mistakes and progressions that have brought us from there to here. We can view history through a critical lens and bring a new perspective to constructing our future. This is a testament to the limitless potential of human imagination. In this great disconnect, we hold no truths to be self-evident. WIN T E R 20 1 2

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Nostalgia Just Ain’t

1962- 1966 CUBAN MISSILE CRISIS

CY BER WA R FA R E

American kids are taught to hide under their desks when the Cold War starts to turn hot in October. The 13-day military stand-off between the U.S. and the Soviet Union ends after Moscow agrees to remove its nuclear missles deployed in Cuba. Armegeddon is put on hold, but Washington continues to outlaw Cuban cigars as contraband.

June revealed President Barack Obama’s orders to launch cyber attacks on Iran’s computer network, marking America’s first use of cyber-weapons. Iranian and U.S. relations continue down a rocky path for the future due to Iran’s development of nuclear power capabilities. The years to come have the potential of being the ultimate Big Bang Theory.

1962

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2012

1962

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CUBAN MISSILE CRISIS

JOHN F. KENNEDY ASSASSINAT ION

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What It Used to Be EUNICE AHN SHOWS US W HY T HINGS ARE MORE LIKE T HEY ARE NOW T HAN T HEY EVER W ERE BEFORE. FROM MUSIC T O POLIT IC S, IN WAR OR IN PE ACE, T HE SPIRIT OF HOPE, REBELLION AND PERSEVER ANCE REMAINS T HE SAME.

A S S A S S I N AT I O N OF JFK

OBAMA R E - E L EC T I O N

Billed as America’s Golden Age, the 1960s kicked into full gear with the election of President John F. Kennedy. Handsome, charming and full of vigor, JFK’s New Frontier promised justice and political and social equality for all. However, JFK was assassinated before he could see his vision come to fruition, leaving behind a country in uncertain times.

America gives President Barack Obama a second chance to turn the country around. But the country remains split along racial, economic and ideological lines. In the midst of his victory, the world continues to spiral into economic and political uncertainty. Unimpressed, thousands of Texas citizens petition to secede from the United States.

1963

2012

1964

1965

1966

LYNDON JOHNSON ELECT ED PRESIDENT

T ROOPS SENT TO VIET NAM

BEGINNING OF BLACK PANT HER PART Y

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S U M M E R O F LO V E

M U S I C A N D A RT S F E S T I VA L S

The last summer of the 1960s exploded into a giant movement against America’s social and political direction. Psychadelic music, free love and wowie-zowie drugs emerged as the trademark of a generation in search of peace, love and brown rice. To this day, the Woodstock three-day music festival remains the iconic moment, in which more than 400,000 people escaped reality.

Neo-Woodstocks continue the music festival phenomenon worldwide. The spirit of rebellion continues to live on, holding events in every major city from We Love Green in Paris to Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival in California. Music continues to captivate the youth, setting aside differences to forget the troubles of the world. Pass the free-range almond milk, please.

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ASSASSINAT ION OF MLK, JR. 1968

Dr. King dreamt that all people would live under a universal truth, “That all men are created equal.” There were many that disagreed. Martin Luther King’s peaceful protests were met by a bullet, leaving the revolutionary leader dead. The act was denounced as “blind” violence by President Lyndon Johnson.

1967 SUMMER OF LOVE

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MA L A L A AL M OST A S S A S S I N AT E D 2012

The Taliban’s failed attempt to assassinate 15-year-old activist Malala Yousafzai in Pakistan’s Swat Valley results in a global uproar. Yousafzai, a blogger about life under Taliban rule and intellectual jihadist for women’s literacy and peace since the age of 9, now ranks 6th on the Top 100 Global Thinkers List.

1968

1969

ASSASSINAT ION OF MART IN LUT HER KING JR.

STONEWALL PROT EST S

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1967-1972 S T O N E WA L L INN

SAME-SEX M A R R I AG E

Stonewall Inn, the mecca of all gay bars in New York City’s Greenwich Village, sparked the Gay Pride movement. It was illegal for bars to serve the gay community until 1969, when the fed up patrons at Stonewall Inn fought back against sexual orientation discrimination with a fiveday long protest.

Modern day discrimination exists in the form of banning same-sex marriage, which continues to deny homosexuals basic human rights in a majority of U.S. states. However, 2012’s Election Day produced another milestone, legalizing samesex marriage in both Maine and Maryland.

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1970 T HE BEAT LES BREAK UP

2012

1971 CHARLES MANSON RECEIVES DEAT H PENTALT Y WIN T E R 20 1 2

1972 WAT ERGAT E SCANDAL

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GENERATION DEGENERATION S T ORY BY H I L L A RY DA L D OR F

“I just wasn’t able to function.” says Jane Gilbert*, a 19-year-old freshman at American University of Paris. Her fingertips pick at her scalp as she sits on an Amex couch, describing her long struggle with anxiety and depression. “Until, I went to therapy, I was a crazy person.” She is not alone. According to a 2011 study “Increase in Severity of Mental Illness Among Clinical College Students: A 12-Year Comparison,” more students than ever are arriving with pre-existing mental health conditions.

Gilbert says it was crucial to seek help from a psychiatrist. Still, anxiety will continue to follow her, as symptoms change with age, ranging from eating disorders to a stronger desire to drink alcohol. “I’m a former anorexic, but back in the day, I would just binge and purge. Now I kind of just go out if something stressful happens, either here [the Amex] or to a random bar afterwards. It’s not the best medicine but sometimes it feels like the best medicine.” WIN T E R 20 1 2

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WILL IAM GRAVES

“Over the past 10 years, the shift in the needs of students seeking counseling services has become apparent,” the study’s author Dr. John Guthman said in an interview with the American Psychological Association.


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tudents come to college with bags packed with prescribed medications and pre-diagnosed psychiatric conditions. According to Guthman, in 2009, 24 percent of individuals attended counseling in college and reported taking medication, compared to 11 percent in 1998. It is becoming increasingly imperative for colleges and universities to have counseling centers and mental health services readily available for students.

Out in the Open AUP students wrestling with demons have Student Affairs Counselor, Sandrine Godt. She coordinates student wellness workshops on topics ranging from substance abuse to body image to personal safety. Recently, participation has been lacking, with only eight students in attendance. Still, AUP sophomore Lily Grant* doesn’t like the idea. “I probably wouldn’t go,” Grant says. “When I was having a really hard time at The New School, I sought help through school. It was a horrible experience, but it’s helpful to know what AUP offers.” To be sure, many students shy away from treatment because of cultural taboos. There are those who don’t know what happens behind closed doors or those who don’t believe in it at all. “In Finland it’s not appropriate to put your problems in the open and talk about them,” said AUP freshman Johanna Lehtinen. “It’s much more private, something you keep to yourself.” Yet, the stigma seems to be slowly dissolving over time. In the U.S. and Europe, the current generation is more informed and more inclined to face their issues. Still, doubts and fears are common and expected. The important thing is that this defense is only temporary.

The System in Place According to a study conducted in 2001 by the Journal of American College Health, students are not aware of mental health services provided at their university, especially when living off-campus. Despite the large number of students who reported feeling mentally

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distressed, most of them did not utilize the services because of a lack of information. AUP students have higher risk to be uninformed and less proactive. It is critical to know what’s in place to feel more comfortable seeking help, even if the services are for a friend. “I try to assess the situation first,” says Godt. “I can usually tell if the issue is rooted deeper. If that’s the case, I refer them to one of our off-campus therapists.” Ariane Wilder, one of two offcampus counselors, agrees with the importance of students being aware of these services. Counselors serve as the second stage of support if a student is suffering from a condition requiring further treatment. After the first meeting with Wilder or her colleague, Mathilde Toulemonde, it is determined if more help is needed. More severe situations have included eating disorders, self-mutilation and sexual assault, all of which require longer term care from a specialist. “A student can always get an appointment,” Wilder says. Regardless of their condition, Wilder recommends that students always seek help if it’s needed. AUP counselors are free, confidential.

Under Pressure Shouts and murmurs filled with stress focus on overwhelming workloads and collective procrastination. Sweaty palms, curdling intestines and a palpitating heart. Insomnia, starvation or a vending machine diet. The symptoms are temporary, but long-term stress is a heavy burden with potential for mental dysfunction. The most lethal combination is when biological predisposition and mental illness collide with external factors. This is fertilizer for a psychological struggle. And although a majority of troubles encountered at university go hand-inhand with anxiety and stress, severe psychological disorders still occur. “The model is that stress can lead to anxiety, which can lead to depression. There is a lot of anxiety at this age, and if it’s left untreated for a long time, it will lead to depression,” adds AUP professor and clinical psychologist Paschale McCarthy. P E ACOC K

“Reasons could be poverty, cultural factors, homesickness, disinterest in studies, and changes in daily life when transitioning to university life,” says AUP professor and psychologist George Allyn.

The Dark Side The stereotypical idea of college experience usually coincides with Asher Roth’s hit, “I Love College,” or the John Landis film, Animal House: raging parties with red cups, keg stands, and hangovers. But for some, the reality of the college fantasy is a much darker, traumatic experience. “Nobody ever told me that going to the psych ward in the middle of my Kappa [Kappa Gamma] formal was part of the deal I made when I joined my sorority,” says Sofia Smith*, a senior at George Washington University. After swallowing a fistful of


RI EKO W HI T F I EL D

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SANDRINE GODT, ST UDENT AFFAIRS COUNSELOR

problems, but to feel included therapy. Long-term detailed therapy Xanax, a tranquilizer for anxiety, and and cheered up. “It’s often peers is costly and governments do not taking six shots of vodka with her or friends who would say go see provide them usually,” says Allyn. sorority, Smith blacked out, admitted someone. But it’s usually not The most important aim of to her peers that she was suicidal, enough, they need something more therapy should be teaching coping and was rushed to the psychiatric specialized,” says McCarthy. skills. Support is also a key part. hospital. Smith reports that prior to Friends and peers this incident, she had play a crucial role no clinical history “TO BE SURE, MANY ST UDENT ’S SHY in helping someone of mental illness. In through suffering and an article reported AWAY FROM T REAT MENT BECAUSE OF encouraging them to seek by the New York CULT URAL TABOOS. T HERE ARE T HOSE help. Therapists say the Times in 2010, the best way to approach demand for mental WHO DON’T KNOW WHAT HAPPENS a person in crisis is health services has increased. Counselors BEHIND CLOSED DOORS OR T HOSE WHO to be empathetic and emotionally available. The are frequently forced goal shouldn’t be to force to rush students DON’T BELIEVE IN IT AT ALL.” someone into therapy but to psychiatric to help them realize it emergency rooms. would be beneficial for them. They Unfortunately, many university For the most part, these students need to want it on their own and students are far away from their are given a Band-Aid: psychothere are always people and resources homes and lack support from pharmaceutical drugs and short-term available to make it happen. relatives. Without the presence therapy. of family, students turn to their “The problem is medical services *Names have been changed upon request. friends and peers, not only to share at universities don’t have long-term WIN T E R 20 1 2

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J O U R N EY TO T H E S I XT H C I RC LE O F H ELL

WILL IA M GRAVES

S T O R Y B Y LU C I E M O O R E

My descent into the Inferno began with a dark dawn rising over Boston. It was January 19, 2012 – a mere 72 hours after the Northeastern University mental health counsellor formalized my medical leave of absence for clinical depression. Was salvation on the other side of the departure gate? All I knew was that something inside tugged at me to return home. “Albuquerque, New Mexico,” the gate agent at Logan Airport summoned. As I boarded the flight, an inner voice spoke to me with malice. All hope has been cut off. 24

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even conceive of taking. ive days earlier, I had been sitting Tuesday and Wednesday. It was Back in New Mexico, I applied outside the university’s psychiatric some grim form of luck to have for a position for my old restaurant office, my mind broken, staring up panic attacks on those nights. I lived job. It was a fine restaurant, and I at an abstract watercolor painting. right across the street, so there was had been a reliable worker. That I waited for someone to call somewhere to go when I lost it. was all I had for reassurance. I my name: Lucie. I needed to hear There was an Edgar Degas carried a heavy weight: failure. another person say it. It would exhibition on loan from the Musée At that time, getting myself mean I wasn’t dreaming. d’Orsay. Édith Piaf songs played in to focus had become the hardest I needed something to focus on, the gift shop, and her music drifted thing. I thought I might be able and the cheap painting was all I had through the exhibit. Piaf and Degas. to find my focus again by doing to work with. For the average person, On some nights, they helped me to something I loved. I thought that the task of simply focusing on remember that life can encompass it might lead me back to finding something might not seem difficult. as much beauty as it does ugliness. something I’d lost: happiness. But it is for me. And sitting in that hot Sitting on the floor in the exhibit, I enrolled in a photography room under my heavy woolen coat, I gazed up at the families and elderly class at the local community my thoughts were in free fall. They couples who shuffled about, wishing college. The lens took the focus were moving with the momentum they would just take me with them away from my nebulous mind. of a train veering off its tracks. All I and help me. I wondered if they could do was sit there, dissolving. At that time, expressing myself could sense the anguish of the young had become difficult. It was This is what happens when you person on the floor. Later, after the painful to articulate the struggle with anxiety. “PANIC AT TACKS ARE PRESENT DAILY. simplest phrase. But Panic attacks are present my professor used a daily. For me, the terror FOR ME, T HE T ERROR ST RUCK AT marvelous language. It struck at night. Like the immediately struck me. warning drum in Jumanji, NIGHT. LIKE T HE WARNING He took reality and could my heartbeat would tell describe it as intelligently me when something DRUM IN JUMANJI, as he perceived it. He bad was on its way. MY HEART BEAT WOULD T ELL inspired me to claim a My anxiety was in voice again, and helped part caused by how ME WHEN SOMET HING BAD me realize that my voice badly I wanted to had never really gone be a perfect person. WAS ON IT S WAY.” away. It had just been Being consumed by an going into my pictures. addiction to perfection trudge home from the museum, the Swimming became my meditation. is hell. A part of me knew I could only comfort I would fall asleep If my mind or breath strayed, I would never attain that nirvana, but with was that I could always dial pull my attention back to my hand I did not want to accept it. the police for intervention. slicing through the water and my My response: control everything, head rotating to breathe every three The Degas exhibit brought me or at least try. I held myself to strokes. Swimming was my way of back to my high school study abroad needlessly elevated expectations. regaining control over my mind. year in Rennes. France got me out I forced myself into following of New Mexico. Leaving home at But I still wasn’t eating enough, strict habits. I adapted discipline sixteen gave me a way to reveal and it affected my brain’s ability as the solution to my acute phobia my aspirations. France had come to function properly. I had of not being good enough. to mean everything for me. And the hardest time remembering I set my alarm earlier: up at it gave me a raison d’être when, the most basic things. 5:45 a.m. and in class by 8:00 a.m. in my own eyes, I was prepared So, I wasn’t the greatest waiter. I went to the gym everyday. I to leave university behind. It was Nonetheless, I managed to get a obsessively searched for ways to France that would get me back out better restaurant job. I found a perfect my diet by eliminating of New Mexico a second time. manager who was willing to give anything that contained fat. My I left Northeastern because I was me a chance, and he motivated me salads were seasoned only with entirely dysfunctional. Medication to get back my confidence. I just vinegar. Eating became devoted to could not fix that. It was simply kept telling myself that I had to get the purpose of satiating my appetite too late. If I had sought help to France. I held fast to the hope for perfection. But the combination earlier, perhaps a handful of pills that I might find purpose there. of a heavily restricted diet with would’ve been the answer. Maybe I constant exercise made me almost And I finally made it. I’m here in wouldn’t have had to leave school. completely unable to ride out the Paris, but I’m uncertain as all hell. I waves of anxiety. Slowly, my anxiety The raw truth: I was scared am still trying. The most important mutated into full-bore depression. of pharmaceuticals. I had no thing is to stay out of the dark. This I wandered, and I became manic. trust in them. Pills bore the risk is why I’ve shared my story. Too of worsening my depression. many people are still struggling in The Boston Museum of Fine Arts And that was a chance I couldn’t silence. That’s not the way to go. was open until 10 p.m. on Monday,

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DROPPING THE ADDERALL BOMB What’s the Wonder Drug everyone is talking about? Adderall. It’s crawling over the city, but not many know of its sinister history. Everyone’s little helper is funded by war. B Y W I L L I A M G R A V E S

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n 1961 the Soviet Union sent the first man into orbit. Today the multibillion-dollar pharmaceutical industry is launching kids into multi-colored galaxies and black holes. The children of the pillspangled banner are dripping red blood, singing moody blues and dying between white hospital walls. It’s the new Dark Age for America’s pharma-strangled youth. Fifty years ago the college rocket-fuel drug was speed. Today it’s Adderall and half a century of college kids burning candles in all directions. Essay warriors igniting heavenly connections. Treetop wanderers wading through libraries of divine paper and freaks slipping beneath ashtrays of desert dust. Times change but drug use remains. Adderall is Shire Pharmaceuticals’

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love child. Legend says the pill was conceived to “Ride of the Valkyries” in an orgy of racemic amphetamine aspartate monohydrate, racemic amphetamine sulfate, dextroamphetamine saccharide and dextroamphetamine sulfate. Check your chemistry books. Adderall is not too distant from the methamphetamine cocktail that Adolph Hitler’s personal physician, Theodor Morell, regularly injected him with. The Führer said, “I will follow his prescriptions to the letter.” And during World War II, he did just that. Over 35 million doses of the methamphetamine Pervitin were manufactured by the German drug juggernaut, Temmler Werke, to keep bomber pilots fighting deep into the dark and lonely nights. The 3 mg Pervitin is P E ACOC K

the 30 mg Adderall’s great ancestor for people that actually needed it. These brave men lied in corpseridden fields and were ordered to rain fire on cities from above. Drugs have come a long way since the Nazi pleasure-dome of infinite sunshine. Now our killing machines that rain death from above are more complicated than an autistic Einstein absorbing Thai Red Bull through his eyeball. Consider the U.S. Air Force’s freakiest flying creature of the first Gulf War, Lockheed Martin’s F-117 Nighthawk. It looks like Kubrick’s monolith from 2001: A Space Odyssey as drawn by crackaddled chimpanzees. It is a flying pyramid of darkness with a price tag of $45 million. These vessels of incalculable mathematics are designed to be so unstable that they


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cannot be flown without computer aid. The result is black magick. The Nighthawk can reduce its radar signature from a Sphinx to a kitten so that it can drop the warhead of your choice anywhere, anytime, without detection. In short, if you think seeing bats is scary on acid, then pray to God you never find yourself with fear dripping up your spine beneath a sky swarming with Nighthawks. Back in 1992 a chosen few were selected to pilot the singleseat Nighthawk on its 18.5 hour bombing runs from Holloman Air Force Base in New Mexico to Kuwait. The bandits refueled their aircraft mid-air but they needed to refuel themselves for the 8,000-mile trip. The USAF found modafinil. Modafinil is a psychoactive stimulant without the amphetamine jitteriness of Adderall. It is the dark Nighthawk’s purebred white powder ally. It is a fatigue killer with a chemical signature. During testing the USAF kept pilots awake for 37 hours running continuous flight simulations under normal conditions as a benchmark. The pilots’ performance declined by as much as 60-100%. For the Electric Kool-Aid modafinil test scientists at the Air Force Research Laboratory administered the pilots with the 100 mg pill at regular intervals. They concluded that flying with the drug “maintained flight accuracy within approximately 15-30% of baseline levels.” The USAF had discovered their new 3 mg Pervitin. NASA was so impressed that they sent it up in space shuttles for further testing at the International Space Station. The Canadian Medical Association Journal reported, “Modafinil is available for the crew to optimize performance while fatigued.” Even the Indian Air Force takes the drug along for the ride. “Modafinil has no side effects and it possesses potential military applications in sustained air operations,” says Major General Mandeep Singh as quoted by The Press Trust of India. Is this the New Psychedelic Fascism, the 21st century’s neon godhead of paranoia? This militarypharmaceutical complex keeps kids paralyzed in the teenage wasteland where childhood fantasies collapse

around harsh realities. Once upon a time Hitler endorsed the drugs now consumed on college campuses. Nowadays NASA certifies these pills for space-use. The new consumers pop painkillers to numb the grief. They drool at themselves in mirrors, grinning at their genius in the most fashionably idiotic manner possible. If you look into the apartments flooded by broken dreams you’ll still see heads lodged between speakers blasting the soundtrack to The Good, The Bad and The Ugly. They don’t care about pills in the way the essay kids do. They do it for the ride. You can watch them gaze into the bad-craziness of acid stained walls, contemplating the rivers humming in its cracks. You can walk by their side through urban forests, hallucinating in the roaring wind of the Adderall night. Adderall was primarily developed as a treatment for Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, narcolepsy patients and as a method for overpaid film stars to remain focused on set after spending all night at Chateau Marmont. Adderall is a psychostimulant teenager, the adolescent who empties jars of multi-colored sand on the carpet and separates them by color for fun – with chopsticks. Despite all the scientists’ promises, the

abuser’s laptop or phone. You don’t know where they’ve been. Yet drug fanatics worldwide continue to worship intellectenhancing substances, while schools such as Oxford University are screaming for them to be banned. The argument takes the same form as doping in the sports world. If Obama gave Adderall to all the kids SAT results would go through the roof. Adderall saves kids from the craziness, the confusion and, if you’re a rock ‘n’ roll star, the bad haircut. Unlike Cocaine, it could finally stop the college kids from fighting each other, forming gangs, getting hand and neck tattoos, marrying in Vegas and constructing internet search histories more disturbing than Charles Manson and Donald Trump mud-wrestling naked on Halloween. Adderall also appears to be this season’s performance-enhancing culprit responsible for two dozen suspensions in the National Football League. According to league reports, Seattle Seahawks cornerbacks Richard Sherman and Brandon Browner were most recently slapped with four game suspensions for allegedly testing positive for Adderall. As the NFL doesn’t disclose which drug triggers a failed test, players are free to say it was for whatever they choose, and numerous reports in U.S. newspapers say many of the banned

“IT ’S T HE NEW DARK AGE FOR AMERICA’S PHARMA-ST RANGLED YOUT H. FIF T Y YEARS AGO T HE COLLEGE ROCKET-FUEL WAS SPEED. TODAY IT ’S ADDERALL...” college kids use it as a treatment for procrastination. Adderall’s ability to remedy ADHD makes it perfect to sharp-shoot a college essay the night before its due date at lightning speed. Internet forums on Adderall regularly equate the drug with “lots of porn.” Students have proven that the drug is the key to unlocking the chastity belt strapped around your Xanax crushed libido. Adderall is dormitory tested. The results are conclusive. Adderall increases late night masturbation. Never ask if you can use an Adderall WIN T E R 20 1 2

players have blamed Adderall. The new Silicon Valley is Adderall Alley. Where sleep turns into pixelated clouds of sound. Where talking heads are cracked open and their jaws are broken. Where drugs are misused today like they were yesterday. Modafinil may be a certified space drug, but if you’re looking for the final frontier just remember NASA and not the generation of crippled seekers travelling deeper inward into the darkest pits of humanity.

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P HOT O COURT ESY OF G OLDSTA R P R

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ON OUR PLAYLIST: SHARON VAN ETTEN

Listening to what could be the New Cat Power, the latest sound pilfering the airwaves is brought to you by Sharon Van Etten. B Y E M M E L I N E B U T L E R

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performance on the British television suggest a classic country soul, while haron Van Etten’s breakthrough show “Later...with Jools Holland” in others, like first single “Serpents” LP “Tramp” may be the October. At the same time, Van Etten (“You enjoy ssssucking on dreams/ finest sleeper success of 2012. officially released her first music so I will fall asleep with someone Critical attention has warmed to a video, for “Magic Chords,” directed other than you”), recall the noisy, consistent glow, growing since the by Rick Alverson. In four disturbing plaintive early work of Cat Power’s album’s release last February, an cinematic minutes, Van Etten’s hobo Chan Marshall. By turns furious appropriately Southern slow-cook has evolved into a pilgrim, sporting and vulnerable, vengeful and for the former Tennessee resident American colonial dress and bonnet resigned, the remarkable sum of after two quietly accomplished in a solemn riverside scene of pale Van Etten’s influences are given albums, 2010’s “Epic” and 2009’s corpses. This is an intriguing contrast a soft-focus polish on certain “Because I Was In Love.” to Van Etten’s disarming girlish laugh tracks and something like a rock A theme of Van Etten’s “Tramp” and good-natured self-deprecation in anthem treatment on others. is not “tramp” as in “trollop,” interviews: she feels intimidated in It’s not surprising that founding but “tramp” as in “hobo,” and record stores, drinks whiskey, reads indie rock guitar hero J. Mascis of the tramp of restless feet – the Anaïs Nin’s letters, vagabond paradox and is inspired by of self-reliance “IT ’S NOT SURPRISING T HAT FOUNDING Michael Gira from and dependence the band Swans. on others, and INDIE ROCK GUITAR HERO While no plans of belonging J. MASCIS OF DINOSAUR JR. COUNT S for a follow-up everywhere as to “Tramp” have much as nowhere. HIMSELF AS ONE OF HER SEVERAL been announced Now based as of yet, Peacock in Brooklyn, HIGH-PROFILE ADMIRERS.” recommends the New Jersey seeking out native has her Van Etten’s charming cover of Dinosaur Jr. counts himself as one of leather boots firmly planted at a Morrissey’s “The More You her several high-profile admirers. peculiar cross-road of raw nineties Ignore Me, The Closer I Get.” On her fall tour through the alternative and the kind of adult She has also recorded a cover of United States, Europe, and Australia, contemporary pop-folk your Dad the holiday classic “Baby It’s Cold Van Etten’s soulful vocals carried might listen to on National Public Outside” with Rufus Wainright for her songs from stark to spirited, Radio. Honeyed, mournful womanthe compilation “Holidays Rule.” as showcased in her stand-out done-wrong tracks like “Kevin’s” WIN T E R 20 1 2

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THE JAZZ SINGER MADAME PERRIER Up in Montmartre lives a jazz legend. Her colorful history is notorious throughout the city and brings both contrast and context to today’s sound. She goes beyond the music of the Top 40 Hits, resonating with a deeper past. BY B A R B A R A R A M O S

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here are still musicians in gypsy jazz, classical music with a Robert Perrier. Twenty-six is the Paris who can take you back touch of swing and early rock’n’roll. number on the door of this gigantic in time. A landlady for some room, which the French government This music played a significant American University of Paris registers as a historic location. role in the aftermath of WWII and, students, Marie-Jacques Perrier, in many ways, was the anthem of the “There are always tourists beneath is one of them. The 86-year-old Paris liberation and re-establishment the balcony,” Perrier said. The place singer, fashion journalist and stage of the French Republic. Post-war has meaning, much like one of her actress began her career back in love was in the air, art flourished and songs. “The most important thing the 1930s. Her backstage buddies Perrier provided the soundtrack. in a song are its words, and that’s included Josephine Baker, Django what I love the most about French “The best part was that I Reinhardt and the extraordinary music,” said Madame Perrier. got to listen to the lyrics when jazz violinist, Stephan Grappelli. I sang,” Perrier said. “It made Still, Perrier’s descriptive songs This cavalcade of artists of romance most likely rehearsed inside the Perrier won’t be found on today’s “T HE MOST IMPORTANT T HING family home, which is hit parade or remixed with nestled behind Le Moulin Gaga and Calvin IN A SONG ARE IT S WORDS, AND Lady de la Galette windmill in Harris tracks. Perhaps Montmartre. Papa Robert T HAT ’S WHAT I LOVE MOST ABOUT they should start. Perrier was a music industry Imagine a romantic club executive. He also happened FRENCH MUSIC.” scene, with slower dancing to be a fabric supplier to and Perrier singing “La pluie -MARIE-JACQUES PERRIER fashion houses such as sur le toit,” one of her most Christian Dior and Givenchy. famous songs from the 1940s. “It’s creativity summed After a few hours up,” said Madame Perrier, sitting my work more inspired.” listening to Perrier’s songs, it on a chair that once comforted the wouldn’t be a bad idea to incorporate People noticed her talents for French jazz great Jean Trenchant. her unique sounds as part of more than just music. Fairchild “Once you like music, you start House, Techno and Dubstep. Publications came knocking with an to like art and fashion as well. offer to become a fashion journalist. After all, we live in Paris, These relate to one another.” “I stopped singing and took the where the beauty of the past And so Madame Perrier’s job,” she said of her plunge into the and the adventure of the present professional career took flight. transatlantic world of haute couture. come together on a daily basis. Following her father’s footsteps, “It was a different kind of art.” Hip-Hop, Indie Rock or Acid she began to sing the new soft Over the ensuing years, Perrier’s Pop infused with Marie-Jacques jazz transmitted on Francepen chronicled the early careers Perrier singing her unique brand Amerique, Radio Luxembourg of future superstar designers of timeless jazz — the reigning and throughout Paris. such as Karl Lagerfeld, Calvin queen of real French music “I traveled, incorporated with Klein and Yves Saint Laurent. thinks it would be wonderful. talented musicians,” Perrier recalled. Today, Perrier still lives “There has always been change “But above all, I loved jazz and inside the elegant R-26 salon, the in my music throughout the years, singing.”The songs Perrier sang nickname of the Perrier family loft and this can be the new change,” said are today referred to as the oldies: in Montmartre. The “R” stands for Madame Perrier, “a funnier one.”

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Marie-Jacuqes Perrier at the Embassy of Pakistan in a dress designed by her father and French designer Jacques Fath. FROM T HE PERSONAL ARCHIVES OF WIN T E R 20 1 2

MARIE-JACQUES PERRIER

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DEBAUCHERY WITH RIMKA

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UNDER THE SEA: OZU CLUB A unique clubbing experience is just a short trip to the sixteenth arrondissement. Make your night special with the Paris Aquarium. BY R I M K A S A N D H U

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ocated in the Aquarium de Paris is Ozu, a club that has all the necessities for an epic night out. Do you dream of getting away from the city and off to an unknown world? Ozu is the answer. Ozu has a large aquarium measuring seven feet tall, bringing the late nighters from all over the world the exhilarating sensation that they are partying underwater. If you are planning to dance the night away like most Ozuans, the best choice would be to get a table so you get to groove to the beats without fighting with the other swarms of fish in the sea. The setting of this club is more favorable for intimate gatherings – the tables are placed in a way that you are right in

the zone, without being on the grid. That is why it is essential to know exactly how you want your evening to turn out before your possible wild night. Try making your bookings in advance as it can get very packed, especially on weekends. It might leave you treading water in between other people’s tables, since there is no proper dance floor. If you want to be closer to the aquarium (which is the highlight about the club), then you are going to have to purchase a VIP table. The music played here is a mix of electro-pop with some hiphop beats thrown in, perfect for an electrifying cruise on the weekend! Note that you have to go prepared with ID cards as there is a strict

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selection and, unlike in other clubs, the age limit here is higher: 20 years old. If you are not really a fan of clubbing, but want to enjoy the atmosphere of Ozu, you can go in the day where the setting transforms into a classy Japanese restaurant, allowing you to indulge yourself in delicious, authentic Japanese cuisine. Last but not least, Ozu is a great place to celebrate your birthday. It offers an intimate setting to socialize with your peers, yet still allows one to drown out the voices and jam to the hottest beats of today. 5 Avenue Albert De Mun 75016 Paris Metro 6 (Trocadero) and Line 9 (Trocadero)

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LU CI E MO O RE

GETTING DOWN WITH THE GROUNDS

Caffeine’s stimulating qualities make coffee a very popular option for those who want to increase their productivity. Many students aren’t efficient until their cup of java. While others prefer to take it just as a social drink. Whether it is because of its utility for waking us up, its magnificent flavor or for its socializing properties, coffee is an irreplaceable drink. BY J U L I A N A U R I B E

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f you consider yourself a caffeine lover and could not be more disappointed by the mundane coffee machines on American University of Paris’ campus—do not worry, a few solutions are available. The instant imitation of the so-called “coffee” from the dispensers shamelessly offered at AUP is not the only option. Peacock recommends three local but worldly and unique cafés close to our campus. Now, you can avoid the

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pain of drinking on-campus coffee. Il est l´heure de savourer un VRAI café!

Paris to Jamaica Located just across the street from the Bosquet building on the corner of rue Saint Dominique, Le Campanella offers high quality coffee. Le Campanella is open from 6:00 a.m. until 1:00 a.m. every day of the week. Its ideal location, as well as its convenient schedule, P E ACOC K

has made it a popular choice among many AUP students. It is the perfect place to catch up with friends in between classes instead of being crammed between the bulky vending machines and the giant run-down coffee dispenser at AUP. Drink of choice: the Jamaican coffee. It is listed on the menu as Blue Mountain Jamaïque. For the price of four euros, you will taste one of the best coffees in the world. For a coffee made from one of the world’s most distinguished beans, you need to cough up more than the usual 40 cents for instant coffee — but it is well worth the money. Whether one is just looking for a quick sip of coffee or to be involved in authentic French café culture, this place offers both. Le Campanella is a touchstone in the community for its diverse clientele including students, locals and tourists. And believe it or not, the waiters are fast and attentive compared to the usual service à la française. You will encounter relatively good service, but once again, this is Paris - so make sure you redefine the term customer service in your mind before getting disappointed.

Good Coffee Meets Good View Le Café de l´esplanade, located on 52 rue Fabert and only a two-minute walk from AUP´s Grenelle building, is the perfect place to go to on a sunny day. While drinking coffee, one is able to admire the Cathedral of Saint–Louis des Invalides: it’s golden cupola shining, glittering and reflecting the warm rays of the sun. The most highly recommended coffee at Café de l´Esplanade is the café serré. This coffee is the closest to a true espresso. Usually, the French add a significant amount of water to their espresso, but the café serré lacks the copious amount of water, so it is enjoyably stronger. Just the drink a student needs after pulling a tiresome all-nighter cramming for exams.


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Parisian Café Joining Generations Lastly, AUP´s Combes building conveniently stands next to the Tabac de l’Université. You cannot miss it with its yellow and brown tent. This café, as is implicit in the name, sells tobacco but also offers food and beverages, including you guessed it - wonderful coffee. The miniscule café is located at 151 Rue de l’université, and is open from 9:00 a.m. to 11:00 p.m. Unlike Le Campanella and Le Café de l´esplanade, Tabac’s environment changes throughout the day. The crowd in the morning usually consists of older professionals and retirees, while the younger crowd strolls in well into the evening. Be entertained by the posh 70-year-old little Frenchman who takes his coffee every morning while reading a newspaper, usually trying to figure out which horse to bet on for in the next course de chevaux, or horse race, while puffing on an antique wooden pipe. Tabac de l’Université offers a menu with classic comfort food and drink, including a wide range of belly-warming alcoholic concoctions, which Parisians are so fond of during the winter season (all every other season, for that matter). Among the array of choices, the stand-out coffee award goes to le café noisette. The café noisette is what Americans consider a macchiato (which is an espresso doused with a small amount of milk); this voluptuously-flavored coffee inspires a complex sensation, captivating in both aroma and taste. So the next time you are standing in the crowded Grenelle crevice hunching over for you 40-cent coffee, remember there is a way out of the cracks, with these top three hot spots just around the corner from campus. Enjoy your coffee!

Cafés Parisiens pour les Nuls 4 E A S Y W AY S T O M A S T E R T H E C A F É C U LT U R E I N PA R I S

1. Keep your voice down. 2. If you’re on a tight budget, drink at the bar. It’s cheaper than sitting at a table.

3. Be courteous. Never call the waiter garçon. Instead, use monsieur.

4. Don’t rush. It’s completely

acceptable to pay whenever you’re ready to leave.

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This café is usually crowded with some high-class folks, admiring the majesty of the golden church while enjoying an expensive cup of good coffee. However, the classier upgrade includes classier service: the waiters are polite, professional and will attend promptly to your every request.

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W I L L I A M G RAVES

INTERNET DOMINATION AND FEMINIST FAILURES Social media is the new marketplace of selfpromotion and promiscuity from raunchy celebrities to the girls and boys next door. BY R A E E S A H A M I D

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ailing from Los Angeles, one may think that moving to Paris would be an escape from the KK troops that seemed to infest every city. The KK Troops, also known as the Army of Kim Kardashians, swarm all over the streets and all over the Internet with their dyed, long hair parted in the middle and teased in the back, their too-tight-too-short dresses, and their awkward camera poses complete with a hand on the waist,

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an arched lower back (to accentuate the booty), duck-faced pouts (to give an air of sexy apathy), and enough cleavage for a geologist to examine. Sadly, one’s fantasy escape to Paris would very soon turn into a nightmare. Paris is no escape from the conformist trends sweeping the United States. Walking around the streets of the 7th arrondissement, one is surrounded by what seems to be the paragon of physical P E ACOC K

perfection. Parisian women are the epitome of mainstream beauty: dressed to the nines, Louboutins, Louis Vuittons draped over the arm, blowing puffs of smoke carelessly into your face as they walk by. The new global trend: pomposity often times results in admiration and popularity. Especially on Facebook. “Young women are retrograding to reduced gender roles,” AUP Associate Communications Professor


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Robert Payne ponders aloud. He thinks the reason for this is “precisely because of the validation that comes with social media.” But is it even possible to live in a society where women aren’t madly marketing themselves in a sexually-forward way, just to oneup the next girl? It seems that bits of transmitted data have assumed

“T HIS WHORETO-PRINCESS PHENOMENON IS T HE NEW FAIRY TALE OF OUR GENERAT ION.” control of our lives, herding young women into a new-age beauty corral. Although propelled by the UV radiation of the internet, this psychological poisoning has been gaining momentum with every passing era. A woman’s body for centuries has been the ultimate canvas of discourse, a controlled exhibit. It is painted and sculpted with Photoshop, cosmetics, scalpels and post-surgery sutures until it perfectly portrays the elements of superficial beauty. Social media has radically accelerated the process; most of the time, what a woman wears and the aura she projects mirror what men of the era consider desirable. The bold red lips and boyish haircuts of Prohibition Era flappers were synonymous with the spirited rebellion of the speakeasy. The 1950s fought back, reinstating conservative traditional values, rigid gender roles, and the happy homemakers who mothered the Baby Boom Generation. Take a gander at the side-parted hair, long skirts, accidental sexy pouts and puzzled expressions on display in advertisements of the time. The dynamic remains the same: a woman’s body is the insignia of what sexy is supposed to be. Take a look around. Whether in Los Angeles, New York, or Paris, fashion and gossip magazine stands are on every corner and billboards advertising L’incroyable Famille Kardashian and other glamorous “reality” TV shows

haunt in abundance. A quick look around in Zara or H&M: everything is the same, everywhere. The drving force behind much of this is Kim Kardashian: jack of many trades, expert in none and idol to girls of almost any nationality and age. The “homevideo enthusiast” turned Hollywood mogul currently owns four clothing lines, five fragrances, a sunless tanner, an online shoe retailer, an eyeglass collection and is the face of numerous other popular products. She is everywhere. The Kardashian Empire is so successful that Forbes magazine estimates Kim’s 2012 net worth at $18 million. This whore-to-princess phenomenon is the new fairy tale of our generation. If Kim can become such a huge celebrity and legitimate businesswoman after exposing her most private moments to the world, why can’t we? She even admits in an April 2012 interview with Celebuzz that she doesn’t think she would have been famous without Facebook and Twitter, and that “the internet has brought on a different kind of celebrity.” So different, in fact, that most celebrities are famous for nothing but sell us everything.

“...MOST CELEBRIT IES ARE FAMOUS FOR NOT HING - BUT SELL US EVERY T HING.” Professor Payne points out that, “social media compels women to present themselves as flexible, entrepreneurial subjects.” A woman in a tight little dress and alluring lip gloss is the new entrepreneurialism. Facebook is no longer just for fun. It’s a competitive platform. Social media, Payne adds, “establishes many pressures on women not to be just aesthetically beautiful, but professionally able, socially flexible and even promiscuous.” Impromptu discussions with female AUP students about sexualization of social media strengthen Professor Payne’s chilling WIN T E R 20 1 2

observation. “Our generation is obsessed with taking pictures in order to perpetuate an image,” says Heidi Lea, a graduate student in International Relations and Middle East and Islamic Studies. She suspects image-obsession leads to lower self-esteem and higher sensitivity, as disappointment and dissatisfaction is practically inevitable. “There is always

“T HERE IS ALWAYS SOMEONE OUT T HERE WHO IS BET T ER T HAN YOUR BEST ” someone out there who is better than your best,” Lea says. “Photoshop and Facebook have become tools to paint your ideal life to an audience,” adds Dema AlKakhan, also a graduate student in Middle East and Islamic Studies. “But nothing is really as it seems. All of this wealth and glamour has blown-up because of reality TV shows and tabloid magazines. Facebook is the last step.” “Facebook encourages competition, but in a bad way,” points out Sarah Alsokhni, a senior majoring in International Business. She thinks people are frivolously putting up attention-hungry pictures, “just to see how many likes and comments they get.” What is the result? Quite Darwinian, really. It’s survival of the sexiest. We compete, but the new mediums of competition go beyond who wears what on the street. It’s no longer keeping up with the Joneses or even keeping up with the Kardashians, but keeping up with the millions of young women perpetuating fabulosity on Facebook. Perhaps now is the time to defuse the pressures in our postfeminist society - the pressures that push us into those little dresses and ridiculously unnatural positions and pouts on Facebook. The same pressures that encourage us to continually commodify and advertise ourselves in the social media marketplace. It may be possible to un-learn this.

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PARIS THROUGH THE LIGHT LEAKS I W A S L I V I N G I N A H I G H R I S E H U M A N ZO O . From my balcony I could see what were once neon totem poles reaching into the sky. Today they are abandoned. At night you can see fires burning through the windows. Squatters burn scraps for heat and light. Manchester is a miserable city.

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P I C T O R I A L S

T he

film

reel

begins again in

Paris

after

a jump. I

live

here

now but I still p h o t o g r a p h the city like a tourist. A L L P H OT O S T A K E N B Y W I L L I A M G R AV E S ON A 1 95 6 L E I C A I I I F 35 M M FILM CAMERA

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E V E R Y M I N I AT U R E F I G U R E H A S I T S O W N S T O R Y W E L O O K T H I S S M A L L T O O F R O M F A R A W AY .

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S H E F I N D S S H E LT E R T H I S W AY , Under cover, hide away.

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S T AG E D W E D D I N G P H OT O G R A P H Y I S A B S U R D T O M E . I t c o n f l i c t s w i t h e v e r y t h i n g lo v e i s .

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P I C T O R I A L S

I ME T HER BY CHANCE WHEN I C A M E T O PA R I S . WE MET AGAIN IN LON D ON A N D SH E SPENT CHRIST MAS WIT H ME. I LEF T MANCHEST ER. I S T AY E D W I T H H E R I N PA R I S . I F I N A L LY M O V E D T O PA R I S I N T H E AUT UMN OF 2012, SINCE T HEN WE’VE GONE S E PA R A T E W A Y S .

I ’ D L I K E T O S P E N D M O R E T I M E H E R E S O M E DAY .

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T R A V E L

CITY OF HANDS ANT WERP, BELGIUM Palms, fingers and thumbs sprout up everywhere in the capital of Flanders. T his city is something of an architectural showcase. From the medieval riverside fortress to the modern waterfront creations, ßber trendy fashionistas take over the medieval city center. Diamonds are forever in the gem district down by the train station. T he house of Flemish painter Pieter Rubens might be the main tourist attraction, unless you’re a sailor out to visit the red light district. And, of course, hands arise discreetly among it all. S T O R Y A N D P H OT O G R A P H Y B Y M A G G I E C E N T E R S WIN T E R 20 1 2

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aïve tourists stand smiling beside Antwerp’s Bravura Brabo Fountain. Click. Brag-worthy evidence that they were in Belgium. At first glance, it’s just another photo in front of a Greco-Roman figure. But something is off. Zoom in. There is the inevitable moment. The daunting realization weighs down and a question is asked, “Wait, is that a... hand?” A statue of a man holding a giant severed hand - ready to throw it like some sick trophy stands in the middle of the city. Antwerp’s morbid fetish for an amputated hand conjures a slight chill in the city that lays two and half hours by fast train from Paris. Most guidebooks heap

town beauty. He courted her and they married. A city grew around the home they made. The citizens would later immortalize Brabo’s feat by naming the city Antwerp. (Werpen meaning “throwing” and ant short form for “hand.”) For those into this crazy hand jive, a weekend trip would start at Grote Markt, the grand central market. The City Hall makes up one side of the square, and you’ll find it draped in colorful flags. The surrounding architecture is of purely Flemish style: buildings of carved stone adorned with golden statues. High-end restaurants create an opulent splendor about the place. Among all the beauty stands the infamous Brabo fountain,

“T HERE IS T HE INEVITABLE MOMENT. T HE DAUNT ING REALIZAT ION WEIGHS DOWN AND A QUEST ION IS ASKED, ‘WAIT, IS T HAT... A HAND?’”

praise on Antwerp’s medieval streets, renaissance architecture and celebrated diamond district. But it’s the sliced-off hand that makes the city special. The U.S. has the bald eagle; Berlin has a bear. Antwerp’s official symbol is the severed hand. The presence of hands is ubiquitous. There is no escaping them. Hands on beer mugs, hands stuck to buildings, hands made from chocolate and fists grasping cookie dough. Locals explain the hands in varying detail, but the legend always starts with Antigoon. He was a giant who lived on the River Scheldt and made his living overtaxing the passing boats. Any captain foolish enough to refuse Antigoon payment would get his hand chopped off and thrown in the river. One day a Roman representative named Brabo grew outraged with Antigoon’s tax. He refused to pay, whacked off the giant’s hand and hurled it into the river. Brabo was now a hero and, of course, fell in love with a local

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where water streams, instead of blood, from the severed hand. The next stop is along the river bank to the castle where the giant lived. The city’s armor marks the first archway, again displaying the gruesome symbol of the severed hand. Continuing on, the eerie MAS Museum is next in the visit. It opened in 2011, its exterior covered with hands. The museum tells the story of the relationship between the city and the river. If one finds themselves in need of a beer, the best place to stop are Antwerp’s brown cafés. These offer an atmospheric blend between an English pub and a Parisian café. The best by far is Den Engel, located near the fountain. Den Engel’s dark house-brewed beer comes served in large, round, hand-stamped glass. Meir Street is the Park Place on the Belgian Monopoly. Strolling down this street, among the designers and fine antiques, you’ll find a giant stone sitting sole and upright. No plaque provides an explanation.

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CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT:

Cafe and butter hand cookie at the Horta Grand Café; Museum Aan Stroom (MAS), was designed by Neutelings Rie dijk Architects, and opened in 2011; the 1887 Silvius Brabo Fountain in the Grote Market.


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would suffer the same fate as the If severed hands don’t spoil your documentation of a giant skeleton captains of the ships on the river appetite, you might be interested in hand ever being found at the bottom Scheldt. Thankfully, this punishment trying some buttery hand shaped on the River Scheldt. A more sinister is no longer being practiced in cookies. These aren’t just any cookie. Belgian past involving hands can be Belgium, nor any of her No other person, former territories. city, or country can “T HE PRESENCE OF bake these tasty Antwerp is as charming delights. They must as it is bizarre. The HANDS IS UBIQUITOUS. get approval from severed hands mixed the “Hand Union.” T HERE IS NO ESCAPING T HEM.” in with the Flemish You can taste one at architecture place this city the Horta Grand Café as a unique visit for any with any order of coffee or tea. weekend getaway from the norm. found in the Belgian Congo. During the Belgian colonial empire (1908Despite the omnipresence of Just make sure you have a 1960), if the Congolese slaves did hands in Antwerp, there is no strong stomach. for any weekend not meet their quota of rubber they proof of the legend. There is no getaway from the norm.

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RI EKO W HI T F I EL D

RED WINE ROGUES DYSFUNCTIONING ABROAD

So you want to study abroad? Why not? Fill out some forms, pack your bags, change your Facebook status to “Lives in Paris,” and you’re ready to go. B Y S H A M AY E L S H A L I Z I

“I

’m studying abroad, do you think I actually give a damn about the readings?” is often overheard around the campus of the American University of Paris. Studying abroad is becoming a rite of passage within top American universities. Sophomores, juniors and seniors are urged to have a foreign experience while taking classes

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toward their majors. AUP makes it easy for students from a number of universities in Good Ole ‘Merica to add some spice to their lives, while still meeting the requirements for a degree. Fresh meat is shipped across the Atlantic every semester. So what are these kids up to in Paris, and how does their presence affect AUP? For most students, studying

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abroad is a complete joke. Life becomes one long, extended vacation. One doesn’t have to take classes seriously. The visiting inside-the-beltway students from George Washington University return home with just pass/fail grades. This is a controversial issue, especially with these “GWers.” Who are their representatives?


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When you’ve lived in Paris for As lamented by one study abroad several years, your once fanatic student who wished to remain anonymous because she didn’t desire to make every weekend want to be pilloried by her friends, epic now seems très passé. “I actually have to worry about my schoolwork,” she groans. She says Life in Paris that her university’s study abroad Do the study abroad students program gives letter grades, and her all hang out together? Is it easier financial aid is actually determined for Americans to just hang out by her GPA. GW students, on the with other Americans? One fullother hand, “are just having fun, and time AUP student (who doesn’t not taking classes too seriously.” mind giving her name, but we’ll One AUP senior is not amused. protect her anonymity for her “Courses are based on credit/ sake) feels as though there is an no credit,” she says. “I spend hours invisible force dividing the visiting decoding a paragraph and they’re students with AUP students. doing the minimum. I can’t quite She further elaborates her articulate how frustrating that is, analysis, “...maybe it’s a comfort zone but I think it’s more just jealousy.” thing, but as far as I’m concerned, It’s hard when I to see this if transferred to you’re a full time “AN INCREASING AUP, I had no student trying one to comfort NUMBER OF your hardest me, and it’s to get decent UNIVERSIT IES NOW why I’ve grades. But for embraced Paris the most part, OFFER DICK-AROUND as my own visiting students and gained a bring another ABROAD PROGRAMS diverse group dimension to of friends T HAT GIVE ST UDENT S the classrooms from all over and discussions T HE CHANCE TO HANG the world.” (as long as In this they aren’t too OUT TO DO JACK SHIT IN current hungover to economic participate). ANOT HER COUNT RY ” climate, our -T HE ONION unfortunate dollar-to-euro Nightlife conversion rate leaves Are study us asking one question: “So how abroad students partying it up like much is this in dollars?” Regardless, the Parisians? “A lot of the girls in Paris isn’t like your college campus, my program only hang out in St. chugging Bud Lights at the local Michel with all the other tourists, Kappa Delta Theta Beta fraternity or go to the American bars,” says a down the block; ‘I spend so much study abroad student (who wishes money on eating out, lunch, dinner, to remain anonymous because coffee…” says one sophomore she feels guilty for gossiping), (who wishes to remain anonymous “yet they still complain about not so his parents don’t find out how finding some suave Frenchmen much money he’s spending). to sweep them off their feet. When everything is overpriced These girls get super drunk in Paris, living expenses can put and act stupid, giving all the rest a serious dent in one’s wallet. of us Americans a bad name... But, all said and done, we give a and their French skills! It’s hearty thank-you to this year’s crop terrible and embarrassing!” of visiting innocents abroad. They Of course, since these students remind the rest of us why we came aren’t natives of Paris, what they do here. Now, please, learn a few French for fun is going to be a lot different phrases, participate in class, and than native Parisians, or people by the blessed breasts of Marianne, who have lived here for some time. get out of the American bubble. \

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THE MEDIUM IS the mes age s

From the Gutter to the Gallery A Critical Essay Into the Evolution of Graffiti Art B Y N A Z A L I & D A N I T E A R E FA I N E

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Top: SAINER from ETAM CREW // Lodz, Poland Middle: PAULINA KORTA // Athens, Greece WIN T E R 20 1 2 Bottom: JUSTCOBE // Freiburg, Germany

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oseph Kyselak is often labeled the “godfather of tagging.” His name first appeared throughout the Austro-Hungarian Empire during the 19th century, and as the story goes, a bet was placed among his friends to see whether his name would be recognizable throughout the realm. Little did he know that this form of visual art would manifest into a popular subculture, emphasizing the public square as the medium of its message on a global scale. Graffiti emerged as a mainstay of popular culture. Legitimacy followed when critics noted its transition from simple “tagging” to complex visual art. The term “street art” comes from the post-graffiti classification. It identifies with artistic cultivation expressed through the use of the city as a canvas, instead of the more territorial forms of urban art that graffiti, tagging, or defacing can come to epitomize. The shift from territorial graffiti to visual arts came into public domain in the later part of the 20th century. Modern graffiti evolved beyond tagging and arbitrary designs on the wall. It morphed into what society would conceive as “aesthetic art”. The murals and paintings that depict the community, nation, or society of the artist would also come to shift individual perceptions of street art from vandalism to ingenuity, and in turn create a forum for artists to voice their message to the general public, instead of just to the art world. As the controversy between KRZYSZTOF IVAN // Amsterdam, Netherlands street art and graffiti expands into our mainstream discussion, this phenomenon ultimately becomes a polarizing debate as the idea leaves of art arguably better than any art what makes it so polemic. That one a longer impression than the mural form. Not only does it offer poignant night one wall is empty and the on the wall. The contention is usually remarks about our societies and next day there you have a great centralized between two sides, one values, it has created political piece... there are going to be haters, seeing it as an act of momentum that is truly self expression, and “I LOVE T HE IDEA OF IT BEING ILLEGAL unique. It is democratic. the other as a physical Street art uses representation of a BECAUSE IT MAKES T HE JOB MUCH common space as its decaying neighborhood. canvas. It is for all to MORE SEDUCT IVE; YET T HAT ’S WHAT How do you then see, and for all to add rectify the two, and to, unexploited by MAKES IT SO POLEMIC.” build a common ground? material interests or You don’t. As one -JOSE GERRIDO manifestations of the international graffiti ego. Under the veil of artist, Jose Gerrido anonymity, we are all free to express exclaimed, “I love the idea of it but it comes with the job. I will even our quietest of thoughts. being illegal because it is makes the say, ‘Keep it real,keep it illegal.’” Street art is also very resourceful. job much more seductive; yet that’s It uses anything it can find within Street art emulates this aspect

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everywhere. Some artists become so artists. It requires stealth, speed the urban setting to illustrate its well-known that their graffiti names and a daring disposition. message: waste, street signs, urban are recognized everywhere. In some and natural decay. The arbitrary, This special form of graffiti places, the police have even started spontaneity, and impromptu feel takes upon the artist signature in keeping a record of these names are part of the rush and madness of different fitted designs sketched on to track movement of the artists in city life, which street art emulates. whatever empty surface appears. order to find and apprehend these This subset of graffiti is characterized Sometimes, the object used “dangerous delinquents.” The aim by the artists spontaneity, and itself is the central theme of the is to spread their logo as far as what outsiders would see as message. Garbage thrown on the possible, and the more illegal or the ego on public property. street can speak about pollution or dangerous the positioning, the better. environmental conscientiousness. It It doesn’t need a particular This has caught fire and spread is precisely the re-enactment of our message or political undertone throughout the world, from the surroundings that is the message, to have its work mean anything, Parisian Metro to the U-Bahn even when no explicit essentially all it needs is idea is conveyed. a blank wall and empty “MY WORK IS MEANT FOR ME, AND I Through mimicking, we surface. As Lisbon-based create a metaphor for graffiti artist Outrunning DON’T CARE HOW YOU WANT what we see around us. Cops noted, “My work is meant for me, and I don’t Graffiti and street TO INT ERPRET OR REPRESENT IT, care how you want to art are notable for their BUT T HAT ’S WHAT IT ’S FOR.” interpret or represent it, provocative nature but that’s what it’s for.” and infusing street -OUT RUNNING COPS culture with what is The monopolization perceived as aesthetically pleasing. in Berlin, and created a cultural of art as only for those who Still, these are often seen as one epidemic. Subway graffiti has possess the talent or legitimate of the same, posing challenges taken on a life of its own. The surroundings, allowing for the for those who want to bring a illegal element is multiplied as the misunderstandings to escalate and meaning to their work, and those canvas is no longer common space, divide amongst the community. who don’t. Where street art seeks but rather private property. Even As Raymond Harmon points to assign a message to the object, though this is public transportation, out, “Art is an evolutionary act. The graffiti sees itself more as a personal in most countries the facilities shape of art and its role in society act of rebellion without cause. themselves are outsourced to is constantly changing. At no point private companies. There is an Graffiti artists draw parallels is art static. There are no rules.” additional thrill in subway tagging. between their work and the world And there are no rules to the way of advertisement. Simply put, they It is physically more difficult to you illustrate the community you are “sticking it to the man.” These pull off since the trains stationed inhabit, the problems you face, and artists create their own “brand,” at the terminus points are the society you envision. The city is their graffiti name, which they use to generally guarded by company your medium, and the spray paint is mark their territory anywhere and security, waiting for the graffiti your message. There are no rules.

ART OF DAVID WALKER // London, England

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INFILTRATING A LESBIAN BAR

There are very few bars in which only women can enter. What happens in a world where men do not exist? B Y J U L I A N A U R I B E

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e So What is a lesbian saloon in the Marais. The music is pretty good. The woman sitting next to me has short hair and is wearing a white shirt. Her female partner, much younger, is looking intensely into her eyes. They say that lesbians can recognize each other with only a look. Le So What is housed in an old bakery. The sign on the building says Patisserie Boulangerie. The words distract any unsuspecting pedestrians. The decoration inside is austere.Who would have thought that this peculiar aesthetic of Le So What, so cold, so absent of color, so gray, so unfinished, would contrast so much with the explosion of colors and the veneration of detail that characterizes the gay aesthetic? Lesbian fantasy is not on display at Le So What. There are no nymphs with sculpted bodies gently caressing each other. At the same time, the bar is a far cry from adolescent experiments of girls kissing girls. That is faux lesbianism, nothing more than a way to turn men on without compromising our sexual appetite, no matter how beautiful or how good of a kisser the other woman is. By midnight, one would have wanted to find something more hectic. There are no crowds. The

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image that my heterosexual friend had of a bar full of lesbians who rub against each other while they dance “sweaty and sexy” doesn’t apply to this place. My friend, who insisted on anonymity because he didn’t want his sexual fantasies to be published, also theorizes that entering a lesbian bar is the ultimate act of penetration that remains on his bucket list. “What man has not dreamed about being with two women at the same time?” he asks. Le So What is much less salacious. Entering a lesbian bar is like entering a secret society. They all seem to know each other. They have their own clues of understanding. I encounter two groups of women, flirting incessantly. Naughty looks come and go. They provoke each other, they insinuate. They work their way gradually into each other’s minds in a splendid performance. Beside me, a selfabsorbed couple hold hands beneath the table. They are living their ideal. In the midst of this sisterhood, it is obvious that I am new, an outsider. However, there is one woman who keeps glimpsing at me. I don’t know if she is speculating on my sexuality. Maybe she just likes me. P E ACOC K

Le So What shatters stereotypes, especially when it comes to the physical appearance of a lesbian. Some of the women present are muscular and disheveled. Others wore sneakers, blue jeans and baggy t-shirts, as if the disdain for femininity was their best liberating weapon. Others are extremely feminine. They wear tight shirts and makeup, proof that gay women do not need to lose their feminine vanity. Lesbians dance. They do not grind. They flirt, but they don’t make-out. Some approaches are timid. Others hustle in haste. Some put their hands on their partner’s ass. The steam pretty much ends there. This lesbian bar isn’t a place where women explosively untie their sexual instincts, as is often the case in a gay bar, where sexual energy is openly expressed. The lesbians here are more subtle. Now, let’s not make hasty heterosexual conclusions. These underworlds have the power to generate different cues so women can communicate their lesbian passions without being noticed by outsiders. It’s 1 a.m. Single women float around the bar. The bodies continue to test each other with their eyes. What happens after is for them only.


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TOKI’S CORNER There’s a new anxiety in town. When Fear of Missing Out takes over, you’ve got FoMO. B Y T O G Z H A N K U M E K B AY E V A missing out is just another form of an already existing anxiety. What lies beneath the surface of this race for knowledge is a basic fear of isolation, and the only thing that changes is the medium through which it is experienced. Researchers have been conducting studies on social isolation for decades. Some have shown that social isolation is as strong a factor for morbidity and mortality as smoking, obesity, and high blood pressure. “People need human contact, which is becoming more difficult s you turn to your computer, with technology,” says practicing your eyes start to zoom in on the psychoanalyst and screen and your heart starts professor of psychology “SOCIAL MEDIA AMPLIFIES T HIS beating faster. The pictures George Allyn. from the party you missed “Technology has not only BY CREAT ING A VICIOUS CYCLE are posted, and you feel positive aspects,”Allyn a slight irritation set in. reckons, “but negative IN WHICH KNOWING IS BOT H It’s not uncommon to aspects as well.” INFECT ION AND T HE CURE. LOOK feel this way. It’s called Fears are FoMO, or Fear of Missing understandable, and there DEEPER TO PERHAPS DISCOVER Out. If you haven’t heard is no doubt that instant about it, then you’re most T HAT T HE FEAR OF MISSING OUT IS communication has brought certainly missing out. an immense facility to our Although not JUST ANOT HER FORM OF ANXIET Y.” daily life. Yet the question scientifically proven, that needs to be asked it’s the newest cause of orbits around whether anxiety: feelings of regret, envy Kazandjian says FoMO is the “need technology helps us live our lives and uneasiness. We want to be part to be connected to people, to gossip, more fully. As we feed ourselves with of what other people are doing, and even the anxiety people feel regret about what we have missed viewing or buying. This is FoMO. when they need to make a decision, out on, we forget a simple reality: because FoMO is presented with “It happens,” says American our life is right here and right now. so many alternatives of what you University of Paris senior Kilian Pressing the off button could be doing with your time.” Ordelheide. “You know the feeling on your phone may feel like when you couldn’t be there, you go Social media amplifies this by switching off your life. It’s not. away for the weekend and you get creating a vicious cycle in which Maybe you will feel relieved, or back and everyone shares a laugh knowing is both the infection about something that happened maybe you will even enjoy it. After and the cure. Look deeper to and you think, why did I go away? perhaps discover that the fear of all, you can always turn it back on.

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It’s a feeling of frustration.” Seventy percent of American and British adults aged 18-34 can relate to FoMO, according to a recent study conducted by JWT Intelligence, a global marketing communications brand. Another 88% agreed that they like to be “in the know” and use the Internet to stay current. The top areas people like to be informed about are music, technology, family, news and politics. The study also showed that participants were most likely to experience FoMO if they saw their friends doing something they’re not. AUP Psychology professor Seta

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DREAM ON, LUCID DREAMers Lucid dreams have been a philosophical and spiritual fascination since early Bhuddism and Hinduism. In dreams, our minds fabricate a new reality, opening a window into the innermost workings of the human brain. S T O R Y A N D I L LU S T R AT I O N B Y R I E K O W H I T F I E L D

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n modern psychoanalysis, Sigmund Freud and Carl Jung have pioneered the different modes of conceptualizing dreams. When we are awake, we shape our conceptions of reality through signified images and language that linger in our subconscious. When we dream, the filters of our ego disappear. We become perceptive to our abstract understandings of reality in the dark crevasses of the mind. In dream worlds, we become fully awake. Since the 20th century, lucid dreaming has become a topic of scientific interest, spearheaded by psychophysiologist Stephen LaBerge. Typically when people dream, they are not aware that they are in fact dreaming. However, there are proven methods in which one can train the mind to become aware during a dream state. Here are six tips to

harness the power of your dreams to shape a new perception of reality: Meditate for at least 15 minutes before going to sleep. When you go to bed, lay down flat on your back and focus all of your concentration on breathing deeply and slowly. Once you have cleared your mind of the white noise, visualize a scenario that you would like to dream about, and repeat in your head, “I will have a lucid dream tonight.� Be aware of false awakenings. People often experience false awakenings, where you dream you have woken up and go about your morning routine. This is closely linked to lucid dreams, as you can also train yourself to recognize you are dreaming. Keep a dream journal. Every morning when you wake up, immediately jot down everything WIN T E R 20 1 2

you recall from your dream. Not only will you reap the therapeutic benefits of analyzing certain archetypes and patterns in your dreams, but you will also develop and strengthen your ability to recall dreams. Mark your hand. Draw the same symbol on the same spot every morning. Make a habit of checking your mark throughout the day, as it will serve as an indication that you are awake. Do a reality check. Count your fingers, as you will often have fewer or too many fingers during a dream. You can also check your reflection in a mirror, as your face could often appear distorted. Set your alarm clock to six hours after you go to bed. This aids in triggering a lucid dream, as you retain your self-awareness as you fall right back into REM sleep.

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Miss Conduct

“THE BEST AMERICAN IS THE AMERICAN IN PARIS.” MISS CONDUCT enlightens us on the etiquette of the Franco-American salon. B Y E M M E L I N E B U T L E R occupied a privileged position of simultaneous isolation and influence. As technology and politics push the continents closer together, etiquette reappears as practical information. With some finesse, an awareness of differences in etiquette can turn inevitable moments of unintentional offense into new cross-cultural understanding.

“It is more fun for an intelligent person to live in an intelligent country. France has the only two things toward which we drift as we grow older – intelligence and good manners.” -F. SCOT T FIT ZGERALD

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entle reader. A confident F. Scott Fitzgerald once wrote, “The best of America drifts to Paris.” In 1927, his journey was made by steamship. In 2012, Americans make up 40% of our university’s student body, and support from home is only as far as a “wee-fee” connection. Like Fitzgerald and friends, they still read, write, drink and dream across the twenty arrondissements. But is the American in Paris still the best American? Miss Conduct, your humble authority on multi-cultural etiquette, investigates. Twentieth-century tensions have eased, but France and the United States continue to perplex, frustrate and fascinate each other. At the American University of Paris, we have the privilege of including a hundred other nationalities in the milieu. Since its inception, the U.S. has

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“I always expect people to behave much better than I do. When they actually behave worse, I am frankly incredulous.” -SALLY JAY from Elaine Dundy’s novel The Dud Avocado (1957) For this installment, Miss Conduct focuses on how to reconcile misconceptions about French and American rudeness in Paris. The pertinence of basic social niceties in French society can be ambiguous, even for French people. For example, how soon should one begin using tu with a new acquaintance of one’s own age? Is addressing a young lady as mademoiselle sexist or genteel? Where do social codes fade into personal discretion? “French etiquette has changed a lot in the last fifty years,” says one French student at AUP. “The importance of etiquette has dropped considerably. A lot of people are still aware of the traditional etiquette, but only tend to use it for special occasions. I can understand why certain etiquette that is appropriate in France might appear to be very rude in America. This is explained by an assumption that other P E ACOC K

‘Western’ countries have the same understanding of etiquette as us.” Allow Miss Conduct to advise. In France, one does not speak to strangers. One shakes hands or kisses the cheek (bisous) to say hello. Gentlemen are expected to behave with galenterie towards women, and one always uses the formal vous with one’s elders unless one’s elders have explicitly specified one may use the informal tu. One does not ask for a doggy bag in restaurants. By contrast, “Americans shake hands or hug to say hello, act more friendly towards strangers, and tend not to discuss wealth or possessions,” observes our French student. “But,” she continues, “I feel that at AUP, both populations have found a middle ground between American and French etiquette.”

“Bad manners are better than no manners at all.” -FLANNERY O’CONNOR The Fiction Writer and His Country (1957) Has relaxed formality amongst the young made French behavior more accessible to foreigners? Another student from the state of South Carolina, thinks non. “I’ve noticed that men don’t automatically give up their seats if a woman is standing in the metro. The hierarchy for seats is disabled, pregnant, elderly, and female. A southern man would be embarrassed to sit if a woman had to stand.” Our southern belle also raises an eyebrow at French women who apply makeup on public transport. “In the south, it’s a cardinal sin


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to put lipstick on in public. That’s what the powder room is for.” “I miss American service terribly!” says an Armenian student at AUP. She has lived in both France and the United States, and met her French husband in New York. “It doesn’t matter if it’s a supermarket, a restaurant, or a department store – it’s extremely hard to find great service in Paris unless it’s a super fancy place. I’ve had quite a few discussions with friends about the lack of smiles here. Honestly, if you try smiling in the metro, people look at you like you have, without any exaggeration, a serious psychological issue.” Since moving to Paris over a year ago, this student’s perception of France and the French has changed several times. She describes the trajectory: “When I first got here, I loved everything. I would even say I idealized France and French culture. But after two months, I hated everything. Suddenly everything became annoying, and I began to see more of the negative side of French society. Thinking back, I would agree that I was going through a normal period of adjustment. Now that my view is based more on my own experiences than on stereotypes, it is more realistic and objective. By learning French and communicating more with French people, I realized the lack of smiles came from their more reserved and introverted personalities rather than a lack of manners.”

“…I suddenly realize that I exist as an object for the Other, that I possess a self which he knows and which I can never know, and that I am vulnerable to the Other, who may anticipate and block my possibilities for action. Thus the revelation of the Other is the Look.” -JEAN-PAUL SART RE Being and Nothingness (1943) In France, non-verbal communication is key. A look can contain subtle nuance. Polly Platt’s droll guide for the American living or working in France, French or Foe?, explains that French smiles

are earned in accordance with an appreciation for authenticity. Unlike the freewheeling American smile, the French smile is prompted by a shared situation or common predicament, even if it is a momentary one. Undiscerning smiles do not indicate casual goodwill, but rather may be seen as insincere, intellectually vacant, hypocritical or mocking - while wordless staring is socially acceptable. Platt recommends initiating conversations in France with deferential phrases, like excusez-moi de vous déranger and monsieur ou madame but Miss Conduct believes any basic show of politeness can make daily dealings in Paris more pleasant. Say hello, pardon yourself, and remember to say please, thank you and goodbye, all in a solid effort in French. As a more demure personality by nature, Miss Conduct admits she may have had an easier time acclimating herself to the intimidating streets of the septième. Boulangères smile at her, handsome strangers go out of their way to reunite her with a misplaced personal effect, and small French dogs in Hermès scarves prance beside her for a few steps as she passes. Parisians in particular, Platt writes, consider themselves “all part of a brave and compassionate Us against the pitiless Them of Police, Bad Weather, Government, Accidents, Carelessness, Bad Luck.” By understanding French people’s “paradoxes and…contradictions, which they delight in,” foreigners can “make it” in France - and “if you can make it in France, you can make it anywhere else afterwards, with much less effort.” Any shrewd observer would be loath to deny that AUP is a collective boasting its own delightful contradictions, and Miss Conduct suspects its students are more than inclined to “make it” in any complicated social circumstance they so choose. Thus, future wellmannered and intelligent citizens of the multi-culture, shall we drift? Yours,

Miss Conduct

Miss Conduct is Emmeline Butler, a Comparative Literature and History student at AUP. WIN T E R 20 1 2

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TEST YOURSELF before you

WRECK YOURSELF

T he importance of getting tested is often underplayed. When you don’t know where to turn, where do you go? Free clinics do exist in Paris.

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8h30 but there was no more male good news is that Paris offers Les aiting for the results of a test is testing,” added Jeremy*, a senior Centres de Dépistage Anonyme never an enjoyable experience. here at the American University et Gratuit (CDAGs) to ease your Whether you’re waiting to find out of Paris. “This one, however, is anxieties about the dreaded how you fared on a pop quiz or final (supposedly) completely free.” test. The only information they exam, anxiety is bound to be running require for anyone who needs to The actual test, which can be high. Waiting for the results of an STI get tested is their age and sex. a blood test or they can take a text is an entirely different ball game. sample with a cotton swab, only The process at the CDAG is simple Just entering the clinic causes palms takes about ten minutes and they and there’s no need to be intimidated to get sweaty, hearts to start racing, call you with your results in about at the thought of being tested in a faces to get flushed. You’re probably a week. For men, the swab might foreign country. Each patient meets nervously looking for the closest exit. be uncomfortable. Jeremy explains one-on-one with a doctor, and is The first time I got tested I was his testing experience. “They had given the opportunity to speak to sixteen and absolutely terrified at to stick a q-tip in my urethra. The the doctor about any concerns they Planned Parenthood, a free clinic woman administering the test asked might have and ask any questions in the United States. The waiting me, ‘ça va piquer.’ The swab was an they may need answered. The room was full of people: couples unpleasant surprise.” If you need to patient should specify what they huddled together, friends distracting go in after receiving your results, the would like to be screened for and friends from the current situation, the test will be administered. and everyone looked Up to a week after the uncomfortable and eager to initial test, the patient will leave. There’s a strange sense PRACT ICAL INFORMAT ION: be notified by the center and of camaraderie. Still, getting Hopital Cochin-Tarnier you can make an appointment tested doesn’t always have to for the results. Again, the be such a negative experience. 89, rue d’Assas 75006 Paris patient meets with the doctor. In Paris, there are eleven Monday, Wednesday, Friday If the test results are positive, clinics that provide free and the disease is explained in anonymous testing in a safe 8:45-11 & 13-15 great depth and treatment and comfortable environment. Thursday 8:45-11 & 12-2 options are discussed. If a I recently got tested at Hopital Cochin-Tarnier, MET RO: Notre Dame des Champs prescription is needed, one can be obtained at the CDAG. located near the Boulevard (line 12) If it is something that will Saint-Michel, just a short need ongoing treatment, the 15-minute walk from school. RER B: Port Royal patient will be referred to a While the hospital itself Bus 83 hospital or clinic closer to their isn’t large or intimidating, home or a neighborhood they everything is ecru and sterile. may be more familiar with. Seats are padded plastic doctor gives advice on how to make Getting tested for STIs doesn’t chairs, and the check-in desk sits, your sex life safer and, if necessary, have to be a nerve-wracking acrylic with scattered pamphlets treatment methods are discussed. experience. It can be a smooth on the surface. Information on STIs If you are sexually active, getting experience if you know where sit in the waiting area. Treatments tested regularly for STIs is extremely to go and who to talk to. and free condoms are available – all important. We all know this, yet you need to do is ask. The staff was If you are nervous about going, how often is one supposed to get friendly and eager to assist. Even bring a friend. It may help to have tested? It is recommended by the with only speaking minor French, someone with you and if you both Center for Disease Control (CDC) it wasn’t too much of a struggle. get tested together, it may make that any person who is sexually Some of these clinics even have the experience less traumatic. active gets tested for all STIs, English-speaking doctors. Also, an The closest CDAG is just a short including HIV, at least annually, appointment isn’t necessary but metro ride from the AUP campus and gay or bisexual men get tested definitely would have cut back on in the 6th arrondissement. If you every three to six months. waiting time. Especially since clinics haven’t been tested recently, if How important is it? Still, it can stop accepting people when too you’ve never been tested at all, or can be a daunting event that we many come in. “By gare de l’est, if you don’t remember the last time put off as long as possible. The the clinic opens at 8. I got there at you were tested, then it’s time!

*Names have been changed upon request. WIN T E R 20 1 2

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ON THE STREETS: AUP’S FASHION FLAIR

Paris is notorious for its fashion, and with that comes the ability to express individuality. The American University of Paris community speaks about personal choices. S T ORY BY M É L I N E A G A B A I A N P H OT O G R A P H Y B Y R I E K O W H I T F I E L D

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ily Merrill wears sunglasses in the rain. “They spice up any outfit,” the AUP junior says, standing in the school library, where it isn’t raining. “Rain or shine, I always have a pair with me.” Merrill’s eyewear illustrates the short-lived nature of fashion. From inside an AUP classroom to the streets of Paris, the ephemerality of fashion transforms through time, hops across cultures and varies among individuals.

A form of self-expression, fashion can be one of the most powerful means of communication. It’s an integral part of our personal style and creativity, evident through the decoration of our physical appearance. From a pair of shoes, to a handbag, right down to the monogram on a shirt, these have all become commodities reflecting self-identity. Whether fashion is art or simply a commodity is debatable. At AUP, we say fashion is art.

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With all of its symbolism and possession of infinite meanings, fashion isn’t a vapid capitalist extracting your soul. “Many times, I hear people criticizing fashion as a whole, relating it to materialism and superficiality, but it’s not,” says Maha Bin Musallam, an undergraduate student here at AUP. Musallam says fashion is individuality. “Similar to art, it is an open door to self-expression,” says Musallam. “Fashion does

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FROM LEF T TO RIGHT: TOVE SAMUELSSON adds an edgy component to her simple yet chic look with a grey tunic and a black leather jacket. LILY MERRILL shows her style creativity with bold red print pants paired off with a long camel-colored coat. MARCOS CARVALHO adds a grey jersey blazer to his monochrome t-shirt and black denim pants, giving his outfit a sense of casual sophistication.

not stand on its own. It is always combined with personal style, and that’s where self-expression kicks in. Those same people who criticize fashion use it every day.” Individuals are the creators of their own image. They choose the pieces and styles that accompany what suits them best, what they feel comfortable in, and what makes them feel good about themselves. “My personal style varies all the time often depending on where I am,” says Merrill. “I think my style reflects my personality too, in that I can’t stick to one thing for too long without having the urge to try something new.” Bold vintage prints. Clunky

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heels. John Lennon sunglasses. Merrill says that fashion, for her, is a creative outlet. “It’s fun to play around with pieces and make different outfits, to see what your clothes can do,” says Merrill. When describing her own style aesthetic, she says, “I usually try to keep it simple with layers or mute colors and then add one statement piece to make the outfit stand out.” Walking around the AUP campus, you’ll not only come across a culturally-diverse student body, but you’ll also notice a wide range of style, all of which define our generation. From preppy to conservative, edgy to sophisticated, urban to


F A S H I O N

“I T ’ S F U N T O P L AY A R O U N D WIT H PIECES AND MAKE D I F F E R E N T O U T F I T S , T O SE E W H AT Y O U R C LOT H E S C A N D O . ” - L I LY M E R R I L L funky - and even nonconformist styles - the fashion represented at AUP reflects all walks of life. For AUP sophomore Tove Samuelsson, fashion is fun and fascinating. “It’s an innovating, fast-forward industry that generates trends, which each and every individual interprets and in turn, creates their own style. It is legen…wait for it… dary!” says Samuelsson. She describes her style as Swedish minimalism. In other words “sans all that glitter.” Simplicity combined with boho chic, Samuelsson is also involved in the modeling industry. People’s understanding of fashion, unfortunately, is strongly influenced by the brutal portrayals of the fashion world. Having personal style does not mean subscribing to the dark side. I remember being at a party packed with models,” Samuelsson says as she recalls an experience she encountered during her early years of modeling. “A few of the models approached me asking if I wanted coke.” Drugs weren’t the first thought to come to mind. “Since I was thirsty, I said yes thinking they were referring to the beverage and not the drug.” Fashion is not about thin runway models, the latest designer pieces, or following a trend as it trickles down the runway and into mainstream media. When it comes down to it, fashion serves a function: trying to be trendy, diverse and cuttingedge in a conformist world. WIN T E R 20 1 2

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Cruel S umm er

T

his summer has been particularly cruel. The humidity is worse than usual and the moisture clings to my skin like hungry leeches. It’s too uncomfortable to wear shoes, so I stay barefoot. The grass outside is knee-high, probably on par with the plains in Africa. I wouldn’t be surprised to see a lion lounging underneath one of the trees, escaping the wretched heat. The shade would help, but you can never escape the humidity. It follows

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you around like a smitten boy. I hate it out here. Every summer, the old stationwagon turns down the dirt path to the saggy wooden gate, and we settle into the cabin. The screen around the porch has holes in it – there is absolutely no avoiding the mosquitos. I spend too much time reading and am now fearful of malaria and the West Nile virus. The past three years we’ve come here, I panic over every bite. It used to be my parents, brother, P E ACOC K

and I, but then my parents passed away. It wasn’t too long ago, four or five years, I think. Time passes me by and it’s so easy to forget what year it is. Frank insists we still come out here, keep the tradition going or their memory alive. So we do. At first it was just the two of us, but the cabin was infested with their presence. Plus, it was too expensive for just the two of us. Now Frank brings some friends to air out the cabin and I sit around drinking


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beer, either here or at the lake. My brother was always closer to our parents. They would fawn over his athletic promise and academic success. My mother’s delicate hand would rub his shoulder with approval. Her acrylic nails were always painted Christmas red. Frank would look up at her and they’d smile. Even my father, the most unaffectionate man in the world, would be proud of Frank. He would get up from his droopy armchair

and let his rough hands muss up Frank’s curly brown hair. I’d usually just watch from the corner, hiding around the furniture. My favorite place was under the dining table. My mother would always drape a tablecloth that hung elegantly close to the ground. No one could see me, but they always knew I was there. So now Frank knows where I hide. It’s too dusty under the table in the cabin, so I hide under the trees and in the grass. He pretends not WIN T E R 20 1 2

W ILL IA M GR AVE S

In the dead of summer, memories lurk around every corner. They hide behind the trees, in chipping paint and in the water. There is nowhere to escape. B Y R A C H E L N I E L S E N

to notice me, but he always looks so uncomfortable. It feels like he looks through me. Maybe because now I’m too old to hide. Pretending is a game I know, so I play along. I pretend not to see his calloused hands when the creaking door of the cabin opens, and I pretend not to hear him when he asks me to clean up the yard a bit. Instead, I sip from my beer in camouflage, blocking out the sounds of him and his hypermasculine friends. They all sound the

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RIEKO WHIT F IELD

same, like they’ve been hit too many times playing football, and their high fives remind me of the terrifying thunder during the stormy season. It’s been so warm out. I think the sun is supposed to make me feel happy and appreciate the days like these, ones where the colors are vivid and you can feel comfortable things on your skin. Like a breeze, cool and calm, one that makes the leaves rustle in the trees. I see the ends of the branches sway just a little bit in the wind. I see how all the leaves look the same. They all look the same except the dead ones. Those ones hang lifelessly, waiting for strong enough gusts to force them to fall away from their living kin. I’m sweating. It’s uncomfortable and I want it to stop. I go inside and shower, rinsing the dirt off of me. I can feel the tiny blades of green sliding off my skin and falling onto the floor of the shower, dancing around my toes. I can see the tiny bits of life being sucked down the drain with the rest of the water. It seems kind of silly to shower since I’ll just be drenched in sweat again, but for now, the water collides with my skin and my pores rejoice. Afterwards I decide to head down to the lake. I know Frank and his friends will be there, but at least I can feel something new. Maybe the little fish will bite my toes and I won’t mind the tiny rocks beneath my feet. Or I’ll sit on the beach with all the other vacationers and empty my mind. Forget about malaria and ticks and lions and past times up here in the mountains. I’ll forget that the dust is still under the tables and the sun will eat up my skin through the water’s reflective powers. The beach is filled with faces that look exactly the same. Their blank features nod at me, the same ones that are also here every summer. I nod back, giving them new names each year. Cindy and John are here with their three kids who like to fish, and Bev and Dale stay under their umbrella. Sometimes someone will come up to me and comment on how much I’ve grown up. Sometimes they’ll be brave and say something. They bring up my parents, apologizing for what happened or seeing how I’m doing. It’s been a long time and I’m not sure why they want to bring it up.

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C R E A T I V E

W R I T I N G

He’s still standing there. “I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” Just as I sit on the porch with a His neon shirts glow through cold beer, the deep laughs can be “Every year we think about them, the lake and below that his feet heard coming through the trees. you know? It just must be so hard are comfortably resting on the Frank and his merry men are walking for you two,” one of the blank faces rocks. “It’s so nice out, huh?” by, talking about the day at the lake says. “At least you have each other.” and that one chick so and so could’ve “Yeah.” My eyes squint as I look I nod, looking over at my brother, totally nailed. And as they pass me towards the blue sky. “I guess it is.” having a good time with his friends into the house, each of them solemnly “Okay. Well, see you later.” as they make crude comments nods a hello. Even Frank barely He wades away slowly before about women in their bathing suits. looks at me. Jeff does as his friends submerging himself, causing his “Yeah. I’m sorry, but I’m going do, nodding, but with a slight smile. blonde hair to almost look brown. to head into the water. Enjoy the His eyes are still a muddy green, sun.” I smile apologetically and Looking over at them, they’re all and his shorts are still electric. they never give me a hard time. laughing and going further into the I watch the sun wake up the lake. Jeff is the only one who makes Frank and all his college friends moon, and here is the redemption eye contact with me. His tall and pass around beers. They jump in for coming every year. The stars are lean body doesn’t really match how the water and splash each other. actually visible. There’s nothing to thick his fingers are, and I wonder Occasionally they find a few females compete for a spot in the sky. It’s if he pities me. He doesn’t look at to harass. I like to stand in the just the dark trees. The dark trees, me like my brother does, or the way water and let my fingertips graze the moon, and the stars. I crack most of his friends do. Like there’s the surface, watch the ripples as my open another beer and I can hear his something to fear. I’m not even sure hands move in circles. Every so often calloused hands open the door. It’s why he drags me out here every Frank sees I’m here, too, and he looks just him, just Frank. He looks me in year. Maybe he thinks it’ll make our agitated, like it’d be better if I stayed the eye and I’m waiting for something parents proud or something, keep at the cabin. I think I remind him of to happen. Screaming, crying, me from hiding under the dining them too much. I think he blames anything. “Can I have a beer?” table. Maybe he feels bad because me. He wasn’t living at home when he’s away at college and now we “Sure.” everything happened, it was just me. can’t afford to send me, too. After he opens his, there’s no He didn’t get to see them the last sound. Just the crickets, time they told me night birds, and the goodbye, and he LIKE A BREEZE, COOL AND CALM, occasional sip from didn’t get to see the can. Something them when they ONE T HAT MAKES T HE LEAVES RUST LE has to happen. I need were lying lifeless something to happen. I IN T HE T REES. I SEE T HE ENDS OF T HE on the carpet. I feel exposed in the dark still get nervous BRANCHES SWAY JUST A LIT T LE BIT IN T HE and there’s nowhere to every time I open hide. Finally, he speaks. the front door, like WIND. I SEE HOW ALL T HE LEAVES LOOK His voice is a bit raspy there will be a big, from yelling with his deceased present T HE SAME. T HEY ALL LOOK T HE SAME friends, from laughing waiting for me after a trip to the with people who aren’t EXCEPT T HE DEAD ONES. T HOSE ONES grocery store. me. “We should get “Hey, Katy.” HANG LIFELESSLY, WAIT ING FOR ST RONG this screen fixed.” “Yeah, we should.” “Hey, Jeff.” ENOUGH GUST S TO FORCE T HEM TO FALL One of Frank’s The moonlight meathead friends beams through the AWAY FROM T HEIR LIVING KIN. startles me. holes, showing the “How’s it mosquitos flying in. goin?” His eyes They buzz by our are green, almost matching the lake ears and, every so often, the silence The sun laughs radiating heat water. I think his eyes are sincere, is broken by a slap on the skin. and my skin can’t take it. Time to but they’re just as reflective as the “I hear these bastards cause head back to the cabin where I can at water, which makes me nervous. malaria or something.” least find refuge in the shade, time “It’s going fine. How are you?” I can hear his cheeks move to trek down the trodden walkways “I’m good. I was just over towards a slight smile, and we that are surrounded by trees and with Frank and them and thought don’t speak. We sit in silence. Not grass. My feet collect dirt and grass you might want a beer.” He the awkward kind when you’re with each step and it’s not long lifts a Budweiser with his thick not sure what to say. It’s the kind until I’m back at that awful cabin. fingers and puts it in my hand. of silence where it’s okay to be The white paint has been chipping I stare at the cold, wet can before quiet. Maybe next time we’ll talk for years. I wonder how long until really processing what it is. “Thanks.” the whole thing finally falls apart. about the dust under the tables. WIN T E R 20 1 2

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ON OUR PLATE: SALMON RISOTTO CHOWING DOWN ON FAB FISH B Y T O G Z H A N K U M E K B AY E V A

INGREDIENT S: Olive oil (3-4 teaspoons) Onion (1) Garlic (1 clove) Risotto rice (250g) Vegetable bouillon (1 cube) Smoked salmon (150g) Flat leaf parsley (1 bundle) Rocket leaves (15-20 leaves) Lemon juice (2 teaspoons) LU CI E MO O RE

Parmesan (50g) White wine (1/2 glass)

Before you start cooking, take out all bowls, pots and plates that you need and have all the ingredients ready in front of you.

1. Add a cube of vegetable bouillon

to 1 liter of boiling water. Stir until the cube dissolves and put the pot aside.

5. Add the other half of the stock.

Continue stirring until it is absorbed. Taste the rice – if it’s soft already, you’re almost done, if not, you can add some more boiled water and keep adding until you have a creamy, cooked rice. You can also add some white wine (1/2 glass) and cream or milk to make it more creamy and tasty.

2. Finely chop the onion, garlic and parsley. Chop the salmon if it doesn’t come pre-chopped in the package.

3. Heat up the oil in the pan and throw in the chopped onion. Fry it for a minute, making sure it doesn’t burn.

4.

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Add the risotto rice and the garlic and fry for 3-4 minutes, stirring constantly. Add half of the vegetable stock (1/2L). Let it simmer, stir occasionally, until the stock has been absorbed (it should take about 20 minutes). Stirring is very important, because the rice will burn otherwise.

6. Lower the heat to medium,

add the parmesan, parsley, the chopped salmon, and lemon juice. Be careful with the lemon juice. If you already used wine, lemon juice can make it too bitter.

7. Carefully mix everything together

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and let it settle for 2-3 minutes. Salt and pepper to taste. Serve with the rest of the salmon and rocket leaves roughly torn on top.


B A C K P A G E

THE WAY WE WERE ACP 1962

Chicks up front

Once upon a time, when women favored bubble flip hairdos and men smoked briar pipes, the American Univeristy of Paris was known as the American College in Paris. Here’s what we think of this photo.

F

emale faculty members take center stage at the inaugural American College in Paris reception in 1962. Elegant, stylish and smart, the women of ACP played a critical role in the birth of the university. Young and old, the ladies look proud and united. They represent more than the university. The women of the late 1950s and what would become the Swinging Sixties were no longer satisfied just being wives and mothers. The sexual revolution gave women their first real taste of freedom. Inspired and encouraged, women entered

the labor force in record numbers. The invention and widespread use of the birth-control pill inexorably changed the playing field. Over the next several decades, feminism became a recognized term and, in 1972, reached full momentum when the U.S. Congress passed the Equal Rights Amendment. Just who these ladies are remains a mystery. What we do know is they’re all standing in front of the men, which tells us something and the editors would like to speak with them about it. Get in touch with the Peacock if you know who they are.

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Peacock Magazine Vol. 2.1  

Peacock Magazine Winter 2012 Edition

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