Spring Break 2 016: Five Staycations from Hell M E TA M A RC H M A D N E SS: The March Madness of March Madnesses
C H OOS E YO U R OW N A DV E N T U R E: Sprang Breaaaaak Edition MARCH 2016 • AUSTIN • STUDYBREAKS.COM
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12 CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE: SPRING BREAK EDITION
SPRING BREAK BABIES
XBOX AND CHILL
META MARCH MADNESS
DON’T BASH THE BATFLECK
THE DEATH OF THE ANTIHERO
THE HOUSE OF KENZO
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38 STAYCATIONS FROM HELL
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46 GETTING TO KNOW
EDITORIAL: MARK STENBERG 210-705-3284 | email@example.com SALES: GIL PETERS
210-892-0951 ext. 116 | firstname.lastname@example.org MARCH 2016
I spent my first Spring Break as a college student waking up at
2:30am to work for free as an apprentice baker at Broadway Daily Bread in San Antonio. Over the Christmas Break I had worked at
the bakery unpaid for a month, and before I stopped returning home for holidays I wanted to get one last week of experience in.
I went to bed every night at nine o’clock. When I woke up six
hours later and drove to work, I would pass a Whataburger filled with drunk students who had also come home for Spring Break.
Before my 3:00-11:00am shift started, I would stand shivering
under the bakery’s blue awning and look from Ayala’s Driving School on my right, to Clark High School across DeZavala, to the
Subway on my left. Everything was dark and there was absolutely no sound.
When you walked into the bakery, the first thing that hit were the smells: tangy
sourdough yeast, warm sweet honey, bubbling salted butter, fresh brewed coffee, melting dark chocolate, lemon zest-f lecked icing, roasting cheddar cheese. A dry
cloud of f lour hung in the air and even though it got in your nose it was the only thing that didn’t have a smell.
I worked alongside bakers who were all in their early twenties except for
the owner, and nobody talked. Everyone knew what they were responsible for baking, and when there were group projects everyone silently did them together.
Someone played Fleet Foxes over the speakers and I didn’t even hate it. When my shift was over, they gave me whatever sandwich I wanted and a coffee for “free.” That was the best Spring Break of my life.
In this issue we make sure to cover all the obligatory Spring Break jokes: binge-
drinking, beaches, promiscuous sex, “one-last-time” road trips, pretending to
hate SXSW, financially hamstrung staycations, etc., but the reality is that having a week off of school for no apparent reason is a valuable opportunity, so be selfish
with it and do exactly what you want to do. Sometimes that’ll be working for free in a bakery, sometimes that’ll be butt-chugging Steel Reserves in Panama City Beach. Just don’t waste it doing something that you don’t want to do.
CO N T R I B U T O R S SE C T I O N | S T U D Y B R E A K S S T A F F
01. JACOBY BANCROFT
11. AL VANDERKLIPP
Journalism and Communication Studies
Film & Government
University of Nevada at Reno
02. WILL STRECKER Writer
University of Texas at Austin English
03.ELIJAH WATSON Writer
University of Texas at Austin Journalism
04. JOHN DAVID WHITE Writer
University of Texas at Austin Government
05. MICHAEL TYLER Writer
University of Texas at Austin Geography
06. GABI GIMSON Writer
St. Edward’s University English Literature
07. SUN GOD (DILLON SCOTT) Writer
08. EMILIO HIDALGO Writer UTSA
09. CHARLOTTE MCCLURE Photographer
University of Texas at Austin Plan II
10. JUSTIN HELLER Writer
University of Texas at Austin Film Studies
University of Northwestern Michigan
12. MADELYNNE SCALES Photographer
Texas State University
Journalism & Photography
13. MIKALA EVERETT Writer
Texas State University
14. IMANI MCGARRELL Writer
Texas State University Journalism
15. FINLEA BAXTER
STUDENT WRITERS, PHOTOGR APHERS, & ILLUSTR ATORS:
University of Oklahoma
Advertising & Professional Writing
16. ANNE ERTLE Writer
John Carroll University Communications
17. MOLLY BURKE Writer
University of Texas at Austin Nutritional Science
18. MAC MCCANN Writer
University of Texas at Austin Plan II, Religious Studies Honors & History
19. MARSHALL TIDRICK Photographer
University of Texas at Austin Journalism & French
20. STEVE DEMENT
Study Breaks is populated exclusively by studentcontributed content written by a team of interns from across the country. These writers work with the editorial team to pitch and submit one piece a week for a semester, though applications are open year-round. In addition to writing for the website, interns also have the opportunity to be published in the print magazine, which—due to spatial constraints—is limited to an invitation-only basis. If you’re interested in becoming a writing or illustrating intern, email email@example.com with “Student Writer/Illustrator” in the Subject. Introduce yourself in the body, making sure to include your name, school, major and at least two samples of your work.
Photographer Austin, Texas
STUDYBRE AKS.COM MARCH 2016
C YOA | J U S T I N H E L L E R
C H O O S E YO U R OW N A DV E N T U R E : S PR A NG B R E A A A A A K EDIT ION It’s March, and Spring Break is upon us. If you’re in college, it’s time to go out with
a bunch of douchebag friends that you won’t hang out with after you graduate, get
irresponsibly drunk and act like nobody ever told you how to live in civilized society. If you’ve already graduated, it’s time to pretend like you haven’t so you can hit on
younger girls. And if you don’t have any friends, it’s time to pretend like you don’t feel like taking a trip and go home to do your laundry and play Uno with your soft-spoken Aunt Dolores.
Spring Break is a time of regrets, stolen purses and barefoot walks across floors
covered in beer, pee, barf, broken glass and broken dreams. So in lieu of the unavoidable mistakes we all will make, here are some scenarios that allow you to choose your fate, complete with a reset button for the do-overs that real life is unable to offer. On these pages are just a few of the things you might see (but probably don’t remember) at the beach on a clear Spring Break day.
As you head back to the one-bedroom your lacrosse team is splitting to get a few more Nalgenes of Rex Goliath, you stumble upon a European man passed out naked in the sand. If you call the cops, dial page 24. If you try to wake him up yourself, go to page 28.
You see a huge fortress made entirely of cans of Bud Light and run to it. If you begin drinking them and risk having to pee for the rest of the day, turn to page 14. If you decide enough is enough and strike a blow for micro-brews everywhere by judo chopping the fort, turn to page 40.
Congratulations! A group of sketchy show promoters concluded that you were probably easily manipulated and wouldn’t last long in prison, so they’ve chosen you to judge a wet T-shirt contest. If you’re f lattered by how these nice men chose you out of everyone, accept their offer by f lipping to page 18. If the thought of wet T-shirts reminds you of your ex-girlfriend, the proprietor of a Suds ‘n’ Spuds Laundromat/Diner, head to page 22 by declining their offer to avoid the pain.
When looking for cute animals still covered in oil from the BP spill, you stumble across a dead Pi Phi washed up on the beach. If you panic and scream, turn to page 26. If you think, “Well she’s not gonna need it” and begin ruff ling through her fanny pack for loose pot/change, turn to page 17.
You notice a huge crowd going nuts at a nearby live performance. Getting closer, you realize it is a cornrowed and grilled James Franco giving an impromptu rap show. If you pretend to be his biggest fan to get backstage, bounce over to page 33. If you bull rush the stage, steer toward page 41.
SOUTH PADRE, TEXAS:
A TIMELINE OF SPRING BREAK CONCEPTION Where did we come from? Where are we going? The
ever-expanding three-dimensional universe our planet is
bound to has no beginning or end. Yet we never stop seeking
answers for questions that we may not want the answers to. Like where do babies come from? Can somebody tell me? Hold on, I have to ask my mom an important question.
MARCH 7, 1956
SP R I N G B R E A K SU R V I VA L G U I D E | J O H N D A V I D W H I T E
You reach for the pomade to throw
back another liter of slick goop to help tame your dreamy locks, but the
pomade is empty. Why is the pomade always empty? Well, Kyle Kyleson,
it looks like you’re going to have to throw on your leather jacket and Ray Bans and ride that sleek Harley down
to the boardwalk to pick up some more gel, or CHICKS.
You come to a skidding halt on
your bike and see a beautiful woman standing over an air vent trying to control her whirling dress, but she
can’t seem to cover herself no matter how hard she tries.
You grab her by the arm because
she’s a woman and it’s 1956, and you say, “Hey, babe, I’d like to make you mine.” She instantly falls in love with you and you escort her to
the nearest sandy beach to make sweet love.
There’s a couple of nerds making sandcastles
along the way so you
make sure to stomp on
them and kick sand in their face.
For most of us, the cell division that led to our birth began
during the second week of March in a magical wonderland
called South Padre Island, and it’s been happening this way for generations! No matter how the story plays out, it’s
always been the same equation: People shakin’ their groove thangs on the beach and pooping out a baby. Or something along those lines, let me double-check something with my mom again real quick.
IF YOU BEGIN DRINKING THE BUD LIGHT... You came across a castle of cold Bud Light and decided to drink them all. After pinching your nostrils shut and closing your eyes, you chug every one of them and become a local hero for downing 69 Buds in four minutes and twenty seconds. The crowd hoists you into the air and you become the Pope of Dope: Girls love you, guys wanna be you. You get to have sex with your pick of anyone on the beach. Game Completed.
MARCH 10, 1968
MARCH 12, 1985
You look down at your hands because something doesn’t feel right. Your pink nailpolish is swirling into a bouquet of roses, which gives you the eerie sensation that they’re plotting against you. The acid has begun to take hold. You look at your six naked friends sitting alongside you in your boyfriend’s beat-up Volkswagen bus and realize their journey has begun as well. You see the sun setting through the steamy windows of the van. You all become one entity of bliss and sunshine for the next half hour. You step out of the van not knowing who or what you just did but you are at peace and all is Good & Zen in the world, if not just a pinch too sweaty. Oh look, a nice man in a beard is handing out cups of Kool Aid.
It’s that one brief time in history when the Gulf Shore was a major ski destination. You’ve had a long semester and it’s finally time to let loose and rip up the mountain in style so you can finally win Lucy Lucyson’s heart. If only she knew how much of a douche Kyle Kyleson Jr. is. Your best friend Scooter frantically tracks you down in the Youth Center with some terrible news. CEO and founder of the youth center, Kyle Kyleson Sr., is going to tear down the rec and build a gel factory that will pollute the coast with pomade for years! Here comes Kyle Jr. with your best gal Lucy around his arm. “Hey, Stink Butts!” he shouts at you. “Fun’s over. My Dad’s about to plow down your precious rec. Unless you think you can beat me in the big race down Selena Mountain that is.” This is it. This is your moment. That’s the last thing you remember before waking up in the hospital and knocking up the nurse.
MARCH 13, 1999 You look at your fancy new digital watch and realize you’re almost late to the beach party—better slap on a Hawaiian shirt and some cargo shorts. Good thing you got here on time thanks to the punctual and respectful customer service of your local American airport. NSYNC is playing on the shore and you can’t wait to get down with your friends and drink some cheap nonmicro brews. Suddenly the
yacht you’re on starts to sink and diegetic flute music begins playing. The rich redheaded girl you woke up with
in bed looks distraught and shrieks your name in a high pitched yelp over and over again. “Jack! Jack! Jack!”
You begin to panic. “Why is this
happening? It’s 1999!”
You look out your cabin window and
see an iceberg. You should have taken swimming lessons like your great
grandfather told you, but you were too busy playing Pogs. That’s right, Pogs. Remember those?
MARCH 15, 2016 Please use protection. These
babies are gonna be seriously messed up adults.
John David White
IF YOU LIGHT UP... Backstage at a James Franco concert a roadie offers you some crack. In another moment of YOLO-ing your week away, you accept. Unfortunately, you get addicted and the rest of your pitiful, repulsive life is nothing to joke about. Game Over.
M R . G A M I N G WATC H | A L V A N D E R K L I P P
BARGAIN BARREL Affordable, notable releases from March 2015
RE: REVELATIONS 2 A surprising return to the series’
roots places it above the abysmal, cartoonish numbered sequels. A
solid pick for someone looking for cold, slimy and claustrophobic on
XBOX AND CHILL:
A hot load of t he latest v ideogame buzz . March 1
FAR CRY: PRIMAL (PC):
THE LEGEND OF ZELDA: TWILIGHT PRINCESS HD (Wii U)
Released on home consoles last
Always happy to remind audiences that their best days are behind them, Nintendo’s Gamecube classic resurfaces again on the Wii U this month. Twilight Princess comes from a bygone era, one in which Nintendo’s games were more than stripped-down versions or spin-offs of their best ideas. In stark contrast to The Wind Waker, TP offers a dark, grim Zelda experience, featuring the series’ most creative dungeons and puzzles. More than enough to tide you over while you’re waiting for the delayed Wii U reboot.
month, Far Cry Primal brings Ubisof t’s objective-strewn,
open-world exploration series
to the land before time. Hunting, gathering and surviving are the
core concepts here, but rival tribes and an apparent alliance with a
saber-tooth tiger promise to keep
things interesting. Get back to your carnal, slobbering roots without ever leaving the comfort of your
swivel chair. W hat more can you ask for in a game?
HOTLINE MIAMI 2 An ambitious return to the violent, fever-dream world of the original, Hotline Miami 2 offered new twists on the frenetic, head-splattering gameplay that’s teeth-grindingly frustrating but immensely rewarding.
AXIOM VERGE Nintendo’s been fairly reliable in keeping most of its beloved franchises on life support, but Metroid fans have had little to go on since 2010’s “Other M.” For those die-hard fans needing a quick Alieninspired fix, last March’s Axiom Verge is a classic Metroid title in all but name.
WEAR » BUY » CELEBRATE 512.245.2273 | www.bookst ore.t xstate.edu
TOM CLANCY’S THE DIVISION (PS4, XBOX ONE, PC) In what has to be the most heavy-handed commentary on
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American consumerism ever, The Division’s story centers
on a viral outbreak that spreads on diseased paper money
after Black Friday. Seriously. You’ll play as a member of the
secret task force dedicated to protecting the greedy, greedy citizens of New York City from tearing capitalist democracy to shreds in the throes of nationwide panic. Luckily,
gorgeous wintertime graphics and solid tactical gameplay look to overshadow Ubisoft’s not-exactly-subtle plot.
IF YOU THINK “WELL SHE’S NOT GONNA NEED IT”... When a dead Pi Phi washed up on the beach, you thought it’d be wise to ruffle through her fanny pack for loose pot/change. Well congratulations, sicko! You got poked by a needle in her pocket and now you have AIDS. Game Over.
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HITMAN (PS4, XBOX ONE, PC) Square Enix’s pulse-pounding E3 trailer followed the
titular Agent 47 on a sprint through the forest, as if he were as desperate to outrun the legacy of 2012’s forgettable “Absolution” (as well as the universally despised 2015
film based on the franchise) as the company itself. Having controversially converted to an episodic format, HITMAN promises varied bite-sized missions featuring gratifying stealth takedowns around the globe. Whether the new
structure will improve the stagnating series is yet to be seen, but seriously, go look up that trailer and try to be anything
but stoked to jump into the shoes of this cold-blooded killer one more time. March 18
POKKEN TOURNAMENT (WII U) The Pokémon game you always dreamed of as a kid FINALLY
exists. Featuring a roster half-full of pokemon you’ve probably
never heard of—the main series now features 721 pokemon to
IF YOU’RE FLATTERED...
You were offered the opportunity to judge a wet T-shirt contest and accepted. Everything’s going great and boy the wet T-shirts are really looking wet today, until a group of angry boyfriends come heading for the judges’ table brandishing old-fashioned castle torches. Jump to page 39 to hop on the back of a nearby truck to escape; or, if you’re an airplane kinda guy, head to page 25. JANUARY 2016
catch and trade, up from the original 151—this bizarre fusion of Pocket Monsters and Tekken showcases satisfying combos and tons of unique abilities. While the game hasn’t exactly been a money-maker in Japan’s arcades (it’s apparently so
easy that a single game credit can support a 45-minute game session) it’s probably pretty satisfying to make Pikachu and
Mewtwo grapple it out mano-a-mano. Bloody, bone-crunching fatalities have neither been confirmed nor denied at the time of this writing. March 24
DEAD OR ALIVE: XTREME 3 FORTUNE (PS4, PSVITA) Remarkable only for its position at the center of an inane internet controversy, the latest entry in this mediocre,
smutty beach-volleyball simulation series will be released only in Japan, solely due to low sales of DoA Xtreme
2 in western regions. Featuring an improved breast-
physics and clothing-wetness engine, it should come as a
surprise to no one that the only people upset about Asian exclusivity (or, as they call it, “censorship”) are the same
community of gamergaters whose death and rape threats forced the cancellation of last year’s SXSW panels on
sexism and progressivism in gaming. Those with nothing
better to do but yell, sweat and stew in their own sexually frustrated juices will be relieved to hear that Koei
Tecmo has responded to the latest uproar in a years-long campaign of harassment and indecency by leaving the
game region-unlocked and including an English language option. Nice work, guys. March 25
HYRULE WARRIORS: LEGENDS (3DS) March 25th brings another bizarre Nintendo crossover that no one really expected to the Nintendo 3DS (a Wii U version was already released last year). This hackn-slash, but ton-mash, beat-em-up-ad-nauseam title
requires you to pummel thousands of tiny enemies and huge bosses from Link’s medieval fantasy world to
unlock new characters and weapons that pummel in cool new ways. The 3DS version offers several characters
and stages not available in the console edition, and the
frenetic gameplay is sure to be more palatable in short, mobile bursts.
Al Vanderklipp MARCH 2016
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M E TA M A R C H M A D N E S S | W I L L S T R E C K E R
12 S E AT
March Madness, the Division I Men’s Basketball Tournament
held every year (in March), is addictively chaotic. Sixty-four equally hungry teams from across the country throw their
hats into the battle royal to end all battle royals. After more
than two weeks of exhaustion, buzzer beaters, net-trimmings, happy tears, sad tears, thrown chairs, confetti deluges,
sextuple-overtimes and busted brackets, a champion of this test of the human spirit’s indomitability is crowned.
Over the course of decades though, some tournaments
stand out from the rest. All March Madnesses are mad,
but some March Madnesses are madder than others. And
for one to be in the business of sports, as I am, one must
be competitive. So, given my competitive nature, it was inevitable that I would do this.
I have narrowed down the most maddening March
Madnesses in history and pitted them against each other,
head-to-head, in a Meta March Madness tournament to find the maddest March Madness of them all.
After much research, I whittled down the 40-50
tournaments to 16 particularly memorable years. From there,
I chose the following eight years as my tournament’s Elite Eight. I seeded them in order from earliest to most recent,
and the match-ups reflect the NCAA guidelines of coupling highest vs. lowest seeds.
1973 • 1975 • 1979 • 1981 • 1985 • 2005 • 2006 • 2011 MARCH 2016
G a me O ne :
1973 VS. 2011 1973 was the tail end of the John Wooden era and the
year the Bruins won their 7th straight national title
and their ninth in ten years (they would win one more under Wooden). Wooden’s resume speaks for itself.
His dominance throughout the ‘60s and ‘70s solidified
his place among the coaching greats. And that year, in one of the most incredible individual performances in college basketball history, UCL A beat Memphis State 87-
66 in the championship game behind Hall-of-Famer Bill Walton’s 44 points on 21-22 shooting with 13 rebounds. A tournament that showcased another incredible chapter
in the John Wooden dynast y, topped off with a legendary performance from an all-time NBA great makes the 1973 tournament worthy of contention in the best tournaments of all time conversation.
However, Walton’s performance and Wooden’s legacy
were really the only exciting things in that year’s
tournament. And, unfortunately for the #1 seed, in order to be considered the best March Madness of all time, madness must ensue.
Our #8 seed, the 2011 tournament, bet ter befits the
chaos needed to advance in my bracket. Not a single top seed made it to the Final Four. Connecticut was the highest seed at #3 seed in its region, Kentuck y was a #4 seed,
Butler was an #8 seed and Virginia Commonwealth was an #11 seed—only the third time in history that an #11 seed made it to the Final Four. W hat’s more impressive
about VCU’s advancement to the Final Four is that had
the rules not changed and expanded the tournament from 65 to 68 teams that year, VCU wouldn’t have even been
in the tournament. They were one of the “First Four”
teams to play (teams 65-68) and made it all the way to the Final Four. A First Four to Final Four journey is, without question, an incredible feat.
R E S U L T: # 8 S E E D 2 0 1 1 U P S E T S # 1 S E E D 19 7 3
G a me Two :
1975 VS. 2006 Coach Wooden was such a recurring figure in the narrowing down process that I feel as if I developed a relationship with the guy. I’ve actually started signing my name as Will Wooden, which actually sounds a lot better than Will Strecker. Nonetheless, 1975 was John Wooden’s final season as a coach, as he announced his retirement after his team’s victory in the semifinal against Louisville. In an exit fit for a king, Wooden’s squad went on to beat #2 Kentucky in the championship game, 92-85. However, the cherry on the
IF THE WET T-SHIRT CONTEST REMINDS YOU OF YOUR EX-GIRLFRIEND... When offered the chance to judge a wet T-shirt contest you declined. You live forever with the lameness of regret. You Win (or do you?)
top of Wooden’s legacy—overcoming the favorited Kentucky—is not what pushes the 1975 tournament over 2006. The Mideast Regional Final (Elite
8 game) between undefeated and #1
legend Bobby Knight, and #2 ranked Kentucky, is considered one of the best
tournament games in history. Landing at the #8 spot on USA Today’s “Greatest 63
History” list, and widely considered one of the greatest of all time, the
Kentucky Wildcats upset the Hoosiers 92-90, giving Bobby Knight’s team the only loss it would suffer between March of ‘74 and December of ‘76.
In what may turn out to be the
closest call in my Meta March Madness, the 2006 tournament, who were
favorites coming into this matchup, fell just short in the end. Similar to
2011, 2006 saw numerous upsets: #14 seed Northwestern State beat #3 seed
Iowa; #13 seed Bradley beat #4 seed Kansas, then the #5 seed
G a me 3:
Pittsburgh to advance to the Sweet Sixteen; Montana and
1979 VS. 2005
seed for the second year in a row, beating Oklahoma in the first
If it weren’t for the seeding, 2005 may have stood a better chance to move on to the Final Four. With upsets out the wazoo, #14 seed Bucknell beat #3 seed Kansas, #13 Vermont beat #4 Syracuse and #12 Wisconsin-Milwaukee advanced to the Sweet Sixteen. The title game pitched the overall #1 seed, Illinois, against #1 seed in the Syracuse Region, North Carolina. Illinois, on a quest to set the record for most wins in a season with 38, was all that stood between NC coach Roy Williams and his first national title. When it was all said and done, North Carolina toppled Illinois, giving Coach Williams his first championship and halting Illinois’ attempt at most wins, instead tying the previous record at 37. However, #3 seed 1979 has the stuff movies are made of. Not only does it land three games on the aforementioned USA Today list, it sparked a rivalry that would last decades and define the
Texas A&M, both #12 seeds, beat their #5 seeded opponents;
and #11 seed Wisconsin-Milwaukee won as a double-digit round. But the tournament is defined by George Mason and one of the greatest Cinderella stories in tournament history. The
#11 seed made it all the way to the Final Four—the first to do so since LSU did it in 1986.
Despite all the upsets and the incredible George Mason
story, 2006 lacks some of the gloss and historical significance that 1975 gave us. The fact that 1975 is sole proprietor of multiple greatest games in history and the stage from which
John Wooden said goodbye to the world of coaching, puts 1975 just ahead of 2006 in my tournament.
#2 GEEZER S STEAL ONE FROM #7 NEW K IDS.
IF YOU CALLED THE COPS... You found a European man passed out on the beach and decided to ring the fuzz. The cops came, and with the help of a medic, you were able to revive the European and save his life. He thanks you for your help, and together you share a nearby vodka-soaked watermelon as a victory repast. You Win.
NBA landscape for years to come. Undefeated Indiana State, led by Hall-of-Famer Larry Bird, met Magic Johnson and his Michigan State Spartans in the championship game. Nursing an injured finger, Bird had one of the most inefficient games of his season and his team couldn’t cap off the perfect season, losing to Magic’s Spartans 75-64. It was here, on this day in March, that one of the greatest rivalries in sports began. Bird and Johnson entered the subsequent NBA Draft and would compete against one another for titles, rings and MVP awards during the next two decades. What happened here in 1979 left an indelible mark on the sports world forever. Because of its far-reaching impact, 2005 is no match for 1979.
#3 L E G E N D S B E AT T H E # 6 AU G H T S
G a me 4 :
1981 VS. 1985 It’s so hard to declare the 1981 tournament losers here, as March 14th of ‘81 is considered by some to be the defining moment of March Madness. Due to the 48-team format, the top seeds in each region received a bye, which set the stage for chaos in the second round. On March 14th, two #1 seeds and the defending national champions all lost either by buzzer beaters or in the final seconds. #1 seed DePaul lost to #9 seeded St. Joseph’s on a layup with two seconds left. Louisville, a team that won the title in 1980 and would produce four Final Four teams from 1980-1986, was upset by Arkansas, losing on a 49 foot, nothing-but-net buzzer beater. And finally, a favorite in the ‘81 tournament, Oregon State lost to Kansas State as the Wildcats drilled a 17-foot jumper with two seconds left. BYU guard Danny Ainge also hit a buzzer-beating layup after dribbling the length of the court to beat Notre Dame 51-50. While 1981 was undoubtedly a great year for March Madness, 1985 was something special. For starters, this was the first year that the tournament expanded to 64 teams. Though the 64-team format has since stood the test of time, in 1985 there were some hesitations surrounding the new structure. In its trial year, some worried it might water down the competition or hurt the top seed who no longer had a first round bye.
However, #8 seeded Villanova laid all those questions
to rest as they went on the quintessential Cinderella run that’s come to define the March Madness magic. That ‘Nova team not only dismantled Dean Smith’s Tarheels in the
Elite Eight and triumphed over a Maryland team led by the incomparable Len Bias, they also knocked off defending champion Georgetown in the title game.
In what is universally considered one of the top two
college basketball games of all time, the Villanova team of
relative nobodies dethroned a starting five that included
four returning starters from the previous year and Patrick Ewing, future NBA Hall-of-Famer, to become the lowest
seed to ever win the championship. There’s no better March Madness story.
#4 CINDER ELL A STOR IES A BOUND, BU T #5 MOV ES ON
IF YOU’RE AN AIRPLANE KINDA GUY... In order to avoid a pack of angry boyfriends, you jerry-rigged a nearby biplane to fly to an adjacent island off the coast. When you land, you’re abducted by savage island natives. To curry favor with the bird god that delivers the Coca Cola, they tear your still-beating heart out of your chest, chanting, “Spring Break! Spring Break!” Game Over. MARCH 2016
F I N A L F OU R
#2 SEED 1975 VS. #8 SEED 2011 Once again, the #8 seed is pit ted against a tournament
headlined by John Wooden. Adding to the VCU headline in 2011, that year’s tournament saw three other double digit
seeds in the Southwest Region advance: #12 Richmond, #10 Florida State and #13 Morehead State. Out of the East Region, another double-digit seed, #11 Marquet te,
advanced to the Sweet Sixteen. With the incredible success the low seeds saw in this tournament, and not a single top-seeded team making it to the Final Four, 2011
captures the essence of March Madness like few years
before. Connecticut would go on to win the tournament, giving the school its third title.
Nonetheless, John Wooden will have his revenge against
the 2011 tournament that defeated his 1973 effort.
Not only was the March 22nd game bet ween Indiana
and Kentuck y one of the best games in history, but the following week, UCL A, the eventual champions, put on a historic show of their own against Louisville.
Again, this Final Four matchup is t ypically considered
one of the best NCA A tournament games of all time, and
comes in as the 28th best on the USA Today list. Rallying at the end of regulation, Wooden’s squad forced overtime, where they came from behind to beat Wooden’s former assistant Denny Crum. It was af ter this game that Wooden announced that 1975 would be his last season,
undoubtedly inspiring his team to topple the favorited Kentuck y Wildcats. Even this ensuing championship game against the Wildcats makes most lists as one of the best games of all time, landing in the top 50 on the USA Today
list. As great as 2011 was for March Madness, you can’t top a tournament with three historic games, a historic coach and an historic end to his career.
# 2 S E E D 1 9 7 5 A D VA N C E S TO THE CH AMPIONSHIP
#3 SEED 1979 VS. #5 SEED 1985 For the case of the #3 seeded 1979 tournament, there’s not
much more to be said. A rivalry budded between two NBA
greats that would continue for years. In the championship game,
Bird’s team were the favorites to win and were fighting for a perfect record, but were overcome by Magic’s Spartans in what
IF YOU PANIC AND SCREAM... A dead Pi Phi washed up on the beach so you freaked out and began screaming. Unfortunately, the pulse of James Franco’s nearby bassdriven trap rap drowns out your yelling. If you yell louder to get attention, turn to page 42. If you try to kill James Franco to make the suffering stop, stage dive over to page 30.
is considered one of the best basketball games of all time. Still, they face stiff competition in the #5 seeded 1985 tournament.
You can’t imagine a more iconic Cinderella story that
encompasses the essence of March Madness like the one Villanova wrote in ‘85. When the odds were against them
round after round, they found a way to win and advance. One
David and Goliath story after another led them to the biggest Goliath of them all: Patrick Ewing and the Hoyas. And, in
terms of college basketball, Ewing was essentially a demigod, adding another level to the biblical fable.
It’s hard to pick a winner here, but when it comes down
to it, the potential winner of this bracket has to exemplify everything we expect in March Madness. Those are large
shoes to fill, but if the shoe fits, wear it, and Villanova’s Cinderella fits the mold.
# 5 S E E D 1 9 8 5 A D VA N C E S TO THE CH AMPIONSHIP
CHAMPIONSHIP: #2 SEED 1975 VS. #5 SEED 1985 The key factors for the 1975 tournament: in three of
the all-time greatest basketball games, Kentucky upsets
Bobby Knight’s Hoosiers, UCLA forces overtime to beat ex-
Wooden assistant Denny Crum, and UCLA beats Kentucky in the championship to win John Wooden his tenth and final championship.
For the 1985 tournament, the key factors are: underdog
#8 seed Villanova beats Len Bias’ Maryland Terrapins, Dean Smith’s Tarheels, and, in arguably greatest basketball game of all time, Patrick Ewing’s Hoyas, to become lowest seed to ever win the championship. Drumroll please…
The winner of the Meta March Madness Tournament
for the maddest March Madness of all time is…the 1985 Villanova Wildcats and their incredible Cinderella run!
And the crowd goes wild! 1985 was a dream year for college basketball, and not one that will be repeated any
time soon. It has historical importance as the first 64-team
arl 306 Pe
215 aT X 7 8 106 • S E T S • y arkwa
year, an archetypal championship run and it established Ewing’s career motif of near misses. Sic semper tyranus. Will Strecker
B AT F L E C K | J A C O B Y B A N C R O F T
already writing off the movie. I felt
like a champion for justice, a beacon of fairness.
Then Jesse Eisenberg was
announced as the new Lex Luthor and I lost my freaking mind.
I became everything I hated. I
went on a crusade against the movie
because Eisenberg was nowhere near how I envisioned Lex Luthor. I felt
like the movie was actively trying to
make me mad by casting the scrawny,
squirrely Eisenberg as one of the most
DON’T BASH THE BATFLECK How preconceived notions hurt films before they’re even released This month, one of two things is
bound to happen with the release of
Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice. It’s either going to be a cinematic
experience unlike anything the world has seen before, establishing the DC Extended Universe as a force to be
reckoned with and ushering in a new era of successful, gritty superhero
films. Or it’s going to flop. Big time.
Whatever the outcome, all the hype
surrounding Batman v Superman:
Batman Kicks Superman’s Ass brings me back to a few years ago, when
the internet officially broke over the
announcement that Ben Affleck would be taking over as Batman. People
rioted, governments collapsed and I’m pretty sure my roommate ate my last pudding cup. It was a dark time.
I didn’t understand all the outrage.
Sure, Ben Affleck had on more than
one occasion expressed as much
acting range as a boiled potato, but that doesn’t mean overall the guy
wasn’t talented. I was positive Zack
Snyder and the studio heads wouldn’t have picked him over the likes of Josh Brolin and Richard Armitage if he wasn’t perfect for the role.
I calmly set out to inform my friends
and random people on the internet that they were being too quick to judge. They hadn’t seen anything
regarding the movie, yet they were
already calling it a failure because of Ben Affleck. I told them we live in a
society where we should really wait
to criticize a movie until after we’ve actually seen it. Ben Affleck could
absolutely rock the role, but because
people were biased against the actor and had preconceived notions about how Batman should act, they were
imposing DC villains of all time. It all had to be one sick joke.
I still haven’t gotten over my
hurt feelings, but I’ve calmed down considerably. I no longer want to
boycott the movie and picket the
premiere with large, handwritten signs and a bullhorn, but I almost let my anger inf luence the entire movie-watching experience.
As viewers we need to keep open
minds, especially for movies as
important as Batman v Superman:
Superheroes Never Smile. We might have an idea in our heads about
what certain characters should be like, but before we see it, all we
have is speculation. So please, do
me a favor and don’t bash Aff leck
and Eisenberg until after the movie comes out. Yes, all our fears might come true and the two might do
horribly in the roles, but before we have hard evidence, it just ends up hurting the film unnecessarily. Jacoby Bancroft
IF YOU TRY TO WAKE HIM UP YOURSELF... You found a naked European man passed out in the sand and tried to wake him up. He doesn’t wake up no matter how many times you throttle him while screaming Enzo Gorlami in his ear. If you wait to think of a rational idea, turn to page 36. If you begin harvesting his organs because his spleen is devaluing by the second and tuition don’t pay itself, turn to page 32.
A N T I - H ER O | J A C O B Y B A N C R O F T
THE ANTIHERO IS DYING, AND WE’RE TO BLAME Heroes come and go, but antiheroes are forever I sometimes imagine what my life would be like as an antihero. To live everyday with the weight of my tortured past driving me to do morally ambiguous deeds. I would push everyone away with my brash, unfiltered hubris, but still show just enough humanity to keep them coming back for more. I would set out on a quest that’s both quasi-decent but still
extremely self-satisfying. Maybe I wouldn’t go as far as cooking meth to provide for my family once the lung cancer finally gets me, but it would be something along those lines. In my antihero fantasy, I would be some type of writer for a Texas-based college magazine. My hard-drinking, sleazy personal life would lead me down a self-destructive path, but the articles I churn out would be some of the best damn stories being written right now. I would butt heads with my hard-nosed, demanding editor who both wants me to keep giving him gold, but also wants me to get help. Underneath it all, I would be afraid that my bad habits are what fuel my genius and without them I would be nothing, so I have to keep going no matter what the cost. It’s edgy and risky, but it would make a much better television show than its white bread counterpart, where I’m just a normal college student who enjoys writing entertainment stories in his free time. I would probably watch the darker version of the show, and by taking a look at television history, it’s clear that I’m not alone in this. Some of the best shows in recent years have been ones with flawed, antiheroic characters at their centers. Something about an antihero excites us. We enjoy watching Walter White continue to evolve into a ruthless drug lord. We root for Dexter Morgan to keep killing bad guys. We can’t turn away as the walls that Don Draper carefully built around himself slowly start to crack and collapse. These characters are damaged and flawed, but they win us over. There’s just something inherently watchable about bad people trying to do good. Years ago, antiheroes were at the forefront of television, and they captivated us with their grit and willingness to cross the line in order to get what they want. They dominated the television landscape, but something has changed. Not only is the idea of antiheroes a dying concept, but I think this college generation is largely responsible for killing it. That needs to stop. Antiheroes make for compelling television. It’s been that way since the dawn of man. Don’t quote me on this, but I’m
IF YOU TRY TO KILL JAMES FRANCO...
After James Franco’s trap rap was so loud that no one could hear you scream, you tried to kill the actor/director/poet/luminary/visionary. But when you make it to Franco, he asks who the hot Pi Phi is (meaning the dead girl). In a split second of troubleshooting, you decide to pull a Weekend at Bernie’s and introduce her to all your friends while apologizing profusely, blaming her limpness on an ambitious draught from the gin bucket. Game Completed? MARCH 2016
pretty sure the caveman’s favorite television show was some sort of prehistoric version of Breaking Bad. I imagine the story of a chemistry-teaching Neanderthal who slowly learns to cook T-Rex meat into an addictive drug was enough to distract cavemen from their primitive lifestyles. What I’m trying to say is that antiheroes are a huge factor in captivating storytelling, so if we decide to move away from them, the quality of our programming will suffer. Before I go further, I should explain exactly what an antihero is. It’s pretty straightforward, really. An antihero is a lead character that lacks the normal heroic attributes that you’re used to seeing in a story. A normal hero would save the world from a dastardly supervillain because of their noble intentions and innate sense of justice, no matter the cost to them personally. An antihero would just as quickly let the world burn for personal gain. Tony Soprano is an antihero. Tony Stark is not. I mention Tony Stark because I believe that this generation’s love for the superhero genre is what’s leading to the antihero’s demise. In an age where every network is looking to grab a piece of the superhero pie, there’s no room for antiheroes. We need to be careful, though, because we shouldn’t just stomp out the idea of antiheroes altogether. Part of the reason we shouldn’t exclude them is that we really can’t—the part of our mind that enjoys watching the bad guys get away with their misdeeds won’t allow it. Audiences are getting bored with the current trends of do-gooder heroes, so we are slowly turning them darker in order for them to remain interesting. Walter White is dead. Don Draper resolved his issues. Dexter Morgan became a bearded lumberjack or something similarly stupid. There’s not a lot of relevant antiheroes on television anymore. Rick Grimes, from the mega-hit The Walking Dead, might come close, but his antihero tendencies stem more from the brutal world he lives in rather than being a truly rotten person deep down. True superheroes have risen up to take their places. Instead of despicable yet likeable lead characters, we now have symbols for hope and justice. It feels like a throwback to the early days of television, where the moral compass on every protagonist pointed north. Ironically though, even our infatuation with superheroes hasn’t lasted that long. It’s just not interesting enough when the heroes are frustratingly decent human beings. The superhero craze started with characters that never would have been tempted to go down a darker path, but look at the landscape now. Two of the more successful and well-received superhero shows on television are Daredevil and Jessica Jones, shows that took the idea of being a shining symbol for hope and twisted it all around. Daredevil fights his inner demons almost as much as bad guys, while Jessica Jones is as close to an antihero that the Marvel Cinematic Universe has had. MARCH 2016
A N T I - H ER O | J A C O B Y B A N C R O F T
Even traditional superhero movies are taking a darker
approach, which is essentially just taking the long way back to antiheroes. 2016 will go down in history as the darkest year of all time for the superhero film genre. Last month,
the mentally unstable antihero Deadpool character finally
got his own movie. This month, the two comic titans Batman and Superman will fight each other for supremacy and bragging rights. A few months from now, the Marvel heroes
will go to war with one another. And finally, in August, a movie consisting entirely of antiheroes and villains will be released in the form of Suicide Squad.
Out of all of them, Suicide Squad is gathering the most
hype as of now, which shows just how excited people are
to watch a bunch of bad guys save the world. The hero is limited in what he or she can do in terms of defeating
evil. The antihero has no boundaries. Nothing is off-limits and it’s that unpredictabilit y that makes antiheroes so fascinating.
When the hero stands over the bad guy with a gun to his
head, we know how it will play out. No matter how much the
bad guy taunts the hero, no matter how conflicted the hero looks, no matter what the music score is trying to tell you, we
know the hero won’t pull the trigger. With an antihero, the
suspense comes from the fact that we really don’t know what’s
going to happen. His choice could go either way. And that’s why we need to preserve the concept of antiheroes, to keep that tension alive. It’s not easy, though. Antiheroes are more difficult to pull off successfully than you would think. You can’t just make your lead character mean-spirited and call it a day. Does anyone remember Rake? What about Backstrom? Those were shows that thought they had a handle on the antihero concept but forgot to give their characters shading or depth. An antihero is mean, but there’s usually a deeper reason that opens up all kinds of intriguing story potential. I said earlier that I often imagine myself as an antihero, but upon further thought, I don’t think I really want to be one. The main reason we attach ourselves to antiheroes is because we’re envious of their free-spirited attitudes. They can do whatever they want without considering the consequences, but that’s not how we really want to act. We want to be decent deep-down, but that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy watching other people indulge their worst impulses. So please, Hollywood executives who I’m sure read my articles on a consistent basis, preserve the antihero! Jacoby Bancroft
IF YOU BEGAN HARVESTING HIS ORGANS... You plunge your knife into the soft tissue surrounding his kidneys, only to pull out handfuls of rebanaditas. Turns out the man was a piñata for a nearby quinceanara, and now you’re engaged for some reason. Game Over.
FICKLE WINDS | E L I J A H W A T S O N
FICKLE WINDS: THE RUMORS OF SOUTH BY SOUTHWEST Essentially, South by Southwest is a weeklong social experiment in FOMO. No matter how carefully you curate your schedule, you’re going to miss out on something because there’s just too much happening. And that’s where the surprise element of SXSW plays its part: Hearsay rumors that could be true or false are passed from person to person in drink lines, toilet lines and entrance lines, until everyone in the city is anxiously awaiting a tweet that either confirms or denies their suspicions. Sometimes those rumors become a reality, which was the case in 2011: Jack White performed an impromptu set in a parking lot, Death From Above 1979 performed a surprise show and Kanye West brought Jay Z out during his G.O.O.D. Music Showcase. However, most of the time those rumors never come true: There was no surprise Daft Punk performance
in 2013, no Outkast performance in 2014 and no Drake performance in 2015. Normally, gossip like that would be immediately dismissed, but that’s the allure of SXSW—the most outrageous rumors could be just as true as they are false. “At my first SXSW in 2001, I got a ‘hot tip’ that the Beastie Boys were going to join Mix Master Mike at La Zona Rosa for a secret show,” Craig Hlavaty wrote for The Houston Press back in 2012. “So of course being the 17-year-old I was at the time, I walked from the UT campus all the way to the venue, only to be saddened to see that no one was there at all.” “In 2008, word spread that Talib Kweli was going to perform a secret show at the Red Bull Moontower Party,” Mark Collins wrote for The Huffington Post. “So a buddy and me hung around ‘til 4 a.m. swilling energy drinks and vodka but he never showed up. As a result, we were so
skeptical of Kanye West showing up at the Levi’s/Fader Fort in 2009 that we left the party a mere 30 minutes before he went onstage. I’m not terribly upset about missing Kanye, but from eyewitness accounts, when he brought Common, Kid Cudi and Erykah Badu on stage with him the entire Fader Fort was instant VIP.” In 2012, there were rumors that the then-reunited At The Drive-In might perform during SXSW before their highly-anticipated headlining set at Coachella. Omar Rodriguez-Lopez, the driving force behind the band, was in town for the premiere of his film Los Chidos, so it was plausible. Unfortunately it never happened and I was distraught. And sure, I saw them a month later at the nowdefunct Red 7, but at that moment all I knew was that At The Drive-In wasn’t putting on a surprise show and no amount of free Doritos Locos Tacos could make me feel better. So who’s spinning the rumor mill in 2016? At The Drive-In (again), considering they’re embarking on another reunion tour, as well as writing new music; Guns N’ Roses, although the guys are asking seven figures a show nowadays; LCD Soundsystem because they’ll be performing at Coachella and touring shortly after; and Weezer, since The White Album will be coming out later this year, along with a summer tour in support of its release. Regardless, always remember: Whenever SXSW happens, anything and everything is possible. Elijah Watson
IF YOU PRETEND TO BE JAMES FRANCO’S BIGGEST FAN TO GET BACKSTAGE... After seeing that James Franco is playing a free concert, you pretend to be his biggest fan to get backstage. When you arrive, you realize nobody else wants to be backstage, so they give you a VIP pass and thank you really really sincerely. A roadie that looks a lot like Seth Rogan offers you crack. If you light up, head over to page 15. If that ain’t you, man, then stay true to yourself on page 37. MARCH 2016
The art and dance collective known as the House Of Kenzo is made up of six members: Breeann Ashley, Bobby Britton, Roxy Eguia, Antonio Padron, Karma Stylz (not pictured) and Gemel Williams. Several of the Kenzo kids knew each other before the group existed, as Britton, Eguia and Williams went to the same high school, and Ashley and Stylz had been friends since childhood. But it wasn’t until 2012, when Eguia and Padron collaborated on several projects, that the House Of Kenzo really began to take shape. Under the name Rainbow Starchild
(“RNBWSTRCHLD”), Eguia designed the costumes for some of Padron’s dance performances, while Padron choreographed some of Eguia’s runway shows, one of which included several future members of the House Of Kenzo. “One of the showcases Antonio and Karma choreographed was for a Milky Way collection we did,” says Eguia. “It was 10 looks—all of the planets including the sun—and each look was inspired by the elements of each planet. That’s how we really started working with one another.” After that the members of the House
( Breea nn A sh ley)
THE HOUSE OF KENZO
Br e e z y R a y n a e
( Bobby Br it ton)
Bo b b y B e a r z
( Rox y Eg uia)
Rn bw s t r c h l d
T H E H O USE T H AT K EN ZO B U I LT | E L I J A H W A T S O N
Of Kenzo were practically inseparable, practicing several days a week from six to nine in the morning, going to events together and slowly assembling the collective that they’ve become known for. Eguia recalls a moment in 2014 when she and the other Kenzo kids went to the Stargayzer Festival in Austin, Texas, and then outdanced everybody during a set from the prominent ballroom figure MikeQ. “We were all in rainbow garb and just jumped onstage and started dancing,” Eguia says. “Then somebody battled us, and somebody else battled us. Everybody was like, ‘Who the fuck
G e m e l Bi s c o t t i/D j L e’ D e f
(Gemel Wi l lia ms)
T o n y Pa d r o n
(A ntonio Padron)
are you guys?’ and shortly after that we came up with the name the House Of Kenzo.” A bit of ballroom and vogue history for context: Voguing is a form of dance born from the Harlem ballroom scene of the 1980s. Although still a largely underground community across the country, vogue culture rose to prominence in the early ‘90s thanks to Madonna’s hit single “Vogue” and the documentary Paris Is Burning. Where the former commoditized the culture and brought it to the masses, the latter explored the intricacies of it—the glamor, violence, lifestyle and art.
As with most traditional “houses,” there is a hierarchy. A “house mother” or “house father” have “children,” and the children have to adhere to the rules set up by their house parent. Houses are named after fashion designers, and members of the houses often participate in events called “balls.” Although the House Of Kenzo is inspired by ballroom and vogue culture, all of the members are adamant about not being referred to as a “vogue house.” “We do more than just dance to vogue music,” says Ashley. “We know African, modern,
Spring break is nigh, and you’re not going to Mexico. You will not watch the sun melt into the ocean while wearing next to nothing and drinking tequila-based calorie bombs. You will not day-drink into oblivion while baking to a crisp golden-brown on the pristinely sequestered white beaches (the sand, I mean) of Cancun. Instead, you’re headed to Austin. This has its benefits. You don’t have to get your body beach-ready, and you don’t have to convince your girlfriends they really, seriously, I swear Christie I wouldn’t lie to you, look insanely hot in that bikini. In Austin, you get to trade that sketchy budget flight for a flight of free SXSW drinks. And most importantly, you get to revel in the singularly millennial spectacle that is South by Southwest. During this bizarre and overwhelming time, you may find at some point that you desperately need a place to recharge. Forget about your favorite coffee shop, taco joint or low-key restaurant. They will be booked and/or completely overrun by outof-towners with more money (less personality) than you. You need to get away from the downtown core, and you need to get a drink.
Enter Techo. Its name means rooftop in Spanish, which is perfect since it’s located on the roof of long-time taco pleasure house, Mi Madre’s. Climb the outdoor staircase between Mi Madre’s and the pub next-door, step through the slim, salvagedwood doors and Dios mío, you’re in Mexico! But like, nice Mexico.
The bar is a dark, richly textured space with room for about twenty. Candles throw warm light against the tiled ceiling and the upholstered chairs practically beg you to sit down. The bartender, whose name is (probably) Mike, greets you by name. Wait, when did you tell him your name? You just got here…or did you?
Bottles of mezcal line the wall behind the bar and Mike pulls them down one by one. He tells you about the varying notes of honey, floral and smoke in each and you nod, dazed and not a little confused. You came here to get drunk, and you will. But you’ll do it calmly, slowly, and it will taste very, very good. Located @ 2201 Manor Rd., Austin, TX
By Charlotte McClure MARCH 2016
contact improvisation, breaking, hip
is difficult to do. But the more the
Department mistook our venue
include installations and plot
cars and a total of three paddy
hop, pole dancing and much more.
Not only that, but our performances settings—we are an art collective.” Williams adds: “Although we do
channel vogue dancing, our goal is to
expand upon what being a house means in today’s day and age, and how we can push the idea to be more relevant to this modern and digital age.”
Trying to gauge what exactly the
House Of Kenzo embodies while
it’s still a relatively young project
group hosts and participates in events throughout Texas, the more solid their Last year the collective
participated in several events in
San Antonio, in addition to hosting a ball over the 4th of July holiday
weekend. Unfortunately, the event ended up being raided by the San
Antonio Police Department because of a misunderstanding.
“The San Antonio Police
for K23 Gallery,” Eguia says, “and
pulled up with at least eight squad
wagons prepared to arrest as many people as possible. The vice squad arrested four people that night including myself.”
Regardless of the raid, the night
was still considered a success. The House Of Kenzo called the event San Antonio’s “first ball ever.”
Following that, the group performed alongside Lex Luger and Uniiqu3
IF YOU WANT TO THINK OF A RATIONAL IDEA... You couldn’t come up with a great idea, so you cover up his privates with half of a nearby vodka-soaked watermelon and continue along down the beach, feeling like you’ve done your part to be a hero. Game Lamely Over.
Eguia says. “It’s going to be an
interactive installation, where we
begin on our knees in soil and over a period of time we grow toward
our light. We’re also going to invite attendees to douse us in dirt and water.”
The show serves as a ref lection
of the House Of Kenzo’s gradual growth and the uncertainty the
collective faces about the future.
Eguia also refers to the performance as a rebirth, as she talks about
certain setbacks she and the rest
of Kenzo have endured during the group’s formation.
“The South By Southwest
performance is important to us,
because we’ve had to trim the fat from the House Of Kenzo,” Eguia
says. “The team has grown so much and we’re beginning to realize
our own roles and responsibilities
within the group, which is why we’ve chosen to do this presentation.”
What will become of the House
at Austin’s Vulcan Gas Company
rapper Dai Burger’s forthcoming
GAYCL (an annual showcase of
Southwest debut this year.
venue in August, and were also
a part of the fifth anniversary of LGBTQ performers) in October.
The collective ended the year by
attending Art Basel in Miami, where they put on several secret shows.
Inevitably, the House Of Kenzo’s
growing exposure has led to some worthwhile opportunities both
for individual members and the
collective. Ashley will be serving as a choreographer for New York
2016 tour, and the House Of Kenzo will be making their South By
Their Southby showcase, hosted
by Austin-based record label
#FEELINGS, will feature the group dancing alongside label artists
Ben Aqua, Creepside, Supraman and Ynfynyt Scroll, as well as
performing a routine of their own. “We’re exploring the parallels
between plant growth and personal growth with this performance,”
Of Kenzo after their South By
Southwest debut is unknown, but all of the members don’t seem worried
about it. “This is only the beginning
of the Kenzo takeover,” Britton says. “I see Kenzo breaking down every wall in the ballroom scene and
focusing more on our own individual contributions to the universe. We
want to showcase why we should all love fearlessly, love wholeheartedly and communicate more through movement of the body.” Elijah Watson
IF THAT AIN’T YOU MAN, THEN STAY TRUE TO YOURSELF... While you were backstage at a James Franco concert, a roadie offered you some crack. You decline, only to then see the roadie shrug and hand the keys to a new Cadillac to a boom-guy at the deli-platter table. You misheard the roadie and passed up a free car. Now, depressed, you turn to crack. Ironic, huh? MARCH 2016
SP R I N G B R E A K 2016 | M I K A L A E V E R E T T , I M A N I M C G A R R E L L , F I N L E A B A X T E R , A N N E E R T L E , M O L LY B U R K E P H O T O G R A P H Y B Y: M A D E LY N N E S C A L E S
Visit a foreig n cou ntr y 12:46pm - I arrive at the Chinese buffet slightly later than expected. I get seated at a booth that is slightly off of the main dining room, and a quick look around tells me that I’ve beaten the lunch rush. 1:08PM - My waiter brings me a tall glass of Sprite while I’m getting my first plate. 1:33PM- So far my waiter has said exactly one word to me. I asked him if I could move over one booth because that one has a charger. I’ve never seen someone convey begrudging approval in a nod before. 2:15PM- A dad is eating a plate of sushi while his two little boys eat slices of cardboard-looking cheese pizza. They’re both wearing baseball caps, jeans and bright green Velcro sneakers.
SPRING BREA K 2016: THE STAYCATIONS FROM HELL Like the American Dream, the idealized Spring Break of carefree debauchery that lives immortally in movies and Mormon nightmares doesn’t really exist. Instead, what exists is just a mirage, but a mirage that’s so alluring that just inching toward it is as rewarding as you’d imagine reaching it would be. This of course leads to a sort of “Reach for
Cancun, even if you miss you’ll land in the bars” type mindset. For the overwhelming majority of students then, Spring Break becomes a balance of compromises. What is the most efficient use your time that yields the most amount of fun for as close as possible to free with little to no planning? Enter, the staycation. Why go to Panama City Beach
2:37PM- Why do some middleclass white people dress their children in matching clothes?
3:00pm- The sushi bar is in the back of the dining room and while I’m over there I hear some commotion in the front. Some guy in a bucket hat and a striped shirt is popping off at the waitress in the front of the store. I rush back to my booth, because I’m old enough now to stop pretending that I don’t love drama. 3:03PM- Things have escalated quickly. Bucket Hat is still yelling at the woman and she is very calmly responding to him. I can’t make out what she’s saying but he keeps yelling that it’s bullshit. 3:07PM- Bucket Hat just pulled the suburban soccer-mom move and asked to speak to the manager. The woman snapped back at him, “I AM the manager” so quick I damn near got whiplash. when there’s an Indigenous Cultures Center opening up downtown next to the Y? Who needs a ski vacation in Breckenridge when someone tagged the DMV with another penis that’s wearing sunglasses? What’s the point of a road-trip to the Grand Canyon when the zoo’s imported panda bear
still may-or-may-not eat her newborn? No we get it, staycations suck. They always have and they always will. So this year we tried something different. We asked five writers to simulate some traditional Spring Break pastimes from the comfort of their homes (more or less), like a
The conversation then goes as follows: BH: At this point, I’m never eating here again! Her: That’s fine, but you still have to pay.
IF YOU HOP ON THE BACK OF A TRUCK... When a pack of boyfriends assaulted the judges’ table at the wet T-shirt contest, you jumped on the back of a nearby truck to get away. Exhaustion hits and you doze off. While you’re sleeping, the truck drives you to Mexico and drops you off at a rooster fight in Juarez. You bet the rest of your cash on the favorited pinche-pollo, who goes down in the fifth to a brutal peck to the jugular. You end up stuck in Mexico with no money. Game Over. MARCH 2016
BH, who is somehow angrier now: I’m not paying you any thing!
Her: Okay, sir, then I’m going to have to call the police. BH: The police?? Well I’m not paying you a damn dime now!
3:09PM- Bucket Hat then
runs out of the store through a side door. The woman shouts something loudly and then 5 male employees run out after him. Me and the moms next to me both gasp loudly and clutch our imaginary pearls. 3:29PM- The moms next to me give me the tea on what the altercation was about. Apparently BH was eating outside while he smoked a cig when the woman asked him to come back inside and pay if he was going to leave the restaurant. 3:30PM- The male employees come back inside emptyhanded and red-faced. 4:12PM- I finally finish my sushi and although it was good, I’m now very thirsty from the salty fish. My waiter has yet to bring me another drink or speak to me again. 4:45PM- A woman in the booth behind me just complained to the guy with her about the lack of fresh fruit available. I’m not sure
Spring Break without the hassle of your friends being there or having fun. Our writers went on road trips, visited foreign countries, caught some midMarch blockbusters, went to national parks and partied on the beach, just like the old-fashioned, blue-blooded Spring Breaks of yesteryear. Just kidding. They swam in a nearly-frozen Lake Erie, solicited a Buc-ee’s alone for six hours, were propositioned by stoned frat bro’s, shamed out of movie theaters and starved out of Chinese buffets. But hey, it’s all about the mems, right?
Go on a road trip I discovered a lot about myself over the course of the six straight hours I spent alone in a Bucc-ee’s— and I regret all of it. I reached my peak awkward quota within the first thirty minutes and I broke something. I broke something! Then I walked away like nothing happened. That unidentified broken object in Bucc-ee’s and I have a lot in common. Spending six hours with just my unfiltered thoughts broke my mind. I found myself doing and thinking things that I would never have done before: I stared at a wall of nuts for 20 minutes and counted how many bags there were— 1,172. Technically toasted corn is not a nut though, so Bucc-ee’s needs to get it together. I eavesdropped on a man’s phone conversation while at the majestic wall of nuts. The most interesting bit of his conversation—“No, really,
IF YOU DECIDE ENOUGH IS ENOUGH...
You found an abandoned fortress of Bud Lights that was just fucking asking for it. In an alcohol-induced surge of adrenaline, you judo chop it to the ground, yelling ‘Janga!’ and high-fiving a nearby man selling condoms from a handcart. Unfortunately, the ATO’s that built the castle see it happen and come after you throwing punches. You leave Spring Break on a stretcher, wishing you would’ve just drunk all the beers. Game Over. MARCH 2016
GO TO A STATE PARK I looked out my window and into the open field behind my apartment building. The grass was dry and brittle, and the creek that ran next to it was muddy and deep. The ripe smell of sewage rose in the morning air to mingle with the acrid smoke from the nearby traffic and the tang of decaying foliage. It was perfect. After I pulled on my jacket, I set off, locking my door behind me and striding toward the line of trees at the edge of the field. Never mind that I was almost hit by a car twice as I crossed the street. Never mind that I tripped on the curb and fell face-first into the grass. I was on a mission, dammit, and God help the man or woman who dared try and stop me. I arrived at the edge of the field more or less in one piece. The wind had picked up, and I had to shield my face from flying leaves. Once I was able to clear the hair out of my eyes and spit the dirt out that had flown into my mouth, I smiled. So what if the leaves were still dead and crunchy underfoot? So what if the tranquility of the small creek was interrupted by a plastic grocery bag here and there, and the entire creek bank was a patchwork of animal droppings? I was going to enjoy the serenity of nature. Who needed a national park, with its rangers and litter laws? I had scraggly trees and piles of poop. I sat gingerly to avoid getting
crap on my backside and sighed
contentedly. And sighed again. And
scratched an itch. And looked around awkwardly. And then sighed again. The funny thing about nature is
that there really isn’t all that much
going on. I didn’t have anyone with me
I swear I didn’t do anything illegal.” I watched a gaggle of sorority girls squawk and take photos with a Bucc-ee the Beaver statue and I came to the conclusion that they were clones because they literally looked like the same person. I almost bought a cookbook. I realized that if a zombie apocalypse ever broke out, Buccee’s is obviously the place to turn first. The only downside would be that someone could make all the gas explode but, you know, it’s whatever. I started my period and considered smearing blood everywhere in a fit of rage. I blame that thought completely on the estrogen and the gunshot-like cramps ricocheting through my uterus. I sat on a toilet for two of the
six hours watching Naruto on
my phone, terrified that I would
somehow catch herpes through my
clothing because I have a very basic understanding of how diseases work.
I tried to make something out
of the toilet tissue but that sadly
ended in a ball of crumpled dreams. I had to leave the bathroom
because my foot magically f lew off of the patterned tile and into the porcelain throne, drenching my
socks with toilet water. It was the
highlight of my day. I seriously considered running down the main aisle wearing a cape made of toilet tissue yelling, “I AM WOMAN. HEAR ME ROAR.” I sang along to various songs out
loud to various degrees of horrified stares. At one point I realized that I was severely hungry but only had $3.78 to my name. It looked like the only answer to my problems was to either prostitute myself for a bag of Cheetos or become consumed by my hunger. So, I bought a bag of peach rings, ate them and made myself sick. I make great decisions. As I was buying the peach rings and leaving the cash register, I said, “Thank you.” The gracious cashier replied, “Thank you.” I replied, “You too,” and proceeded to plunge into a pit of despair. I sat down and drew the Buc-ee’s logo and realized that the original design is horrendous. I perfected it, and can now call myself a true artist. I went to the parking lot to have a staring contest with my car. I lost. I contemplated driving my car into the Bucc-ee’s because it would make it a much more authentic road trip. I don’t think my insurance would have covered that. I played license plate bingo and punch buggy by myself. I ended up punching myself harder than expected and an internal argument ensued. My road trip in Bucc-ee’s allowed me to arrive at the realization that I am incapable of basic human interaction. If we aren’t talking about gender roles, racial inequality, Naruto or food, we ain’t got shit to talk about.
if it’s the MSG or my parched throat but before I can help it I say, “Girl, you know better than that.” They leave shortly after. 5:30PM- Is there a class all new age mothers take that teaches them how to make a baby sling out of a head scarf? I’ve seen at least 5 today and it seems like a universal survival technique I should know how to do. 6:04PM- There is a family here with two teenage sons. I wonder where they’re from because the younger one has 2010 Bieber hair and he doesn’t seem embarrassed about it. Maybe they don’t have the internet. 6:12PM- My waiter has been glaring at me from a distance for about an hour now. I think he decided not to bring me anything to drink as a form of resistance. I debated explaining my situation to him but my thirst is getting real and I’d rather just leave. 6:30PM- I feel terrible. I’m back home now and I feel like survivor of some sort of weird capitalist Hunger Games where the only thing that gets murdered is my affinity for Asian cuisine. By Imani McGarrell
By Mikala Everett
IF YOU BULL RUSH THE STAGE... You saw James Franco performing at a concert and decided that a true Franco fan wouldn’t be constricted by societal norms, so
you decide to bull-rush the stage. You jump in front of the cameras, f lash them and scream ‘HEY MOM,’ despite the fact that your mom thinks MTV2 is something the doctors insist that you get vaccinated against even though there’s no mention of invasive
public health in The Constitution. Securit y tackles you. They turn you over to the cops, and you spend the rest of Spring Break in jail. Game Over.
Go to the beach I arrived on the shores of Lake Erie in Cleveland, Ohio, with my friend Megan reluctantly in tow. Thanks to the top meteorology technology available (the weather app), we saw it would be a balmy 34°. It was even colder when you figured in the lake’s strong winds, so we bundled up in our best gloves and jackets. Life’s a beach! We set the tone for the day with some beach yoga, which is normal yoga on a beach. I resorted to the moves that I learned in my middle school gym class: Sun salutation, downward dog, tree pose. I took off my boots to better connect with my surroundings. The Lake Erie sand was frozen. It felt especially spiteful and, much like Cleveland’s sports teams, very determined. Also, yoga is hard. It’s hard to do even when you’re dressed appropriately (oh, is that what yoga pants are for?), and even harder when you are shelled in layers of fleece. Unfortunately for my limbs and chi, I found it difficult to be completely pliable. My form really suffered because of this. Again: it was the clothes. Not me. Such a demanding workout meant we needed to recharge, so we had a picnic. Since I’m balling on a budget, our meal was comprised of trail mix and granola bars. We spread out the packaged foods on a blanket and it looked outdoorsy as hell. Between the efficiency of the snacks we packed and the water lapping onto the sand, we could’ve been in an ad for North Face or a camping lantern. Following our meal, I was very excited to hit the water and go swimming. There were two problems,
though. First, any obedient child knows you have to wait an hour to swim after eating, or else you’ll be so weighed down by all that undigested garbage that you’ll sink to the bottom and fish will eat you. Problem number two: The beach had a sign that explicitly forbade swimming. Due to the aforementioned obedience, I sighed dejectedly and realized there was no way I would be wading in the water today. (Fun fact: Lake Erie is the shallowest of the Great Lakes. Don’t say you never learned anything from me). Of course, where there’s a will there’s a way, and where there’s an errantly thrown Frisbee, there is an idiot chasing after it. Due to this loophole, I was able to go into the water to retrieve the Frisbee, which meant Swimming AND Frisbee. Done and done. The peak of the day occurred with the peak of the sun, when we finally got to relax, reflect on the day and “catch some rays.” Sunbathing is the best because you get to lie down and the name of the activity makes it sound more elegant than purposely harnessing the evils of the Sun to burn your skin. I’m very good at this. Of course, my legs, arms, stomach and the lower half of my face were all covered. However, there was just enough wind that I did get some color. That flush of stunned nerves was what kept me smiling the whole way home. Once we packed up and got to the car, it started to rain, an obvious reminder from the spring break gods that all great times must come to an end. There is still sand in my boots. By Anne Ertle
IF YOU YELL LOUDER TO GET ATTENTION... When James Franco’s trap rap drowned out your screaming, you decided to amp it up a notch to get some medical attention. Everyone hears you scream and someone finally calls the cops. You spend the rest of Spring Break in jail for suspected murder. Game Over.
because everyone else was busy, and all I’d brought were my keys and my
friend’s little green camera. What does a poor millennial do to battle boredom in the great outdoors? Why, take selfies, of course!
I had just positioned the camera
for my third selfie when I heard a
rustle in the bushes across the bank. Gripping my pepper-spray, I looked
up to see a very, very disoriented frat boy stumbling through the trees and smelling like he’d singlehandedly
funded the annual income of 5,000 California ganja farmers. I have no
idea what they’d laced his weed with, but this dude was higher than the Empire State Building.
I watched in horror as he saw me
and waved, fumbling with the zipper on his filthy jeans as he did so. My
finger slipped on the shutter, and in
that moment, my perfect disgust was captured in a selfie for the ages, my
head drawn so far back in confusion that I had grown another chin. He
began to hum Freebird as he finally managed to successfully lower his zipper. I scrambled away from the
creek bank, patently refusing to look
below his waist as I heard the tinkling of water hitting water, coupled with
the relieved sighs and groans of a man who was clearly high off his ass.
Deciding that this was quite enough
nature for me, I walked as quickly as I could back to my apartment, refusing to look back as he called to me and
sang broken lines of Freebird in what I can only assume was some kind of bizarre pothead mating ritual. As
soon as I hit my door, I locked it. There was no way for me to know if he’d
seen which door was mine, so I wasn’t taking any chances. I’m from Dallas, and my faith in humanity wasn’t all that strong to begin with. By Finlea Baxter
of amicable shouting from the
hearing-aid clad pair ahead of me, I approach the ticket desk. The clerk is a short, sharp-eyed, clean-cut weirdo wearing his official polo
buttoned all the way up to his double chin. He apologetically checks my
ID to ensure age-appropriateness,
trailing off ominously about “these new R-rated films…” He attempts
to bond with me over our ten-year age difference. I fail to grasp the common ground.
I’m directed toward the correct
theater, located at the far end of the first of two main hallways. A quick
survey of the marquees above each
Catch a blockbuster I start as early as possible to
maximize movie quantity. With
the purchase of only one ticket, I
planned to watch The Hateful Eight at 1200, Star Wars at 1510, The
Revenant at 1715 and The Forest at
2000 sharp. I feel encouraged by my use of military time.
I arrive at 1150 bright-eyed,
bushy-tailed and ready to fuck the
system. I queue up behind a squadron of retirees in a mutually grumpy
exchange with the computerized
ticket kiosk. It’s broken; I’ll have to
actually interact with a person to buy the ticket. Cue paranoia.
From the brief intel collection I
did the day before, I know over half
the bays in this cinema are currently in use, but I count no more than
eight people milling about the lobby. Cold realization sets in: It’s way
too early for this mischief. A human
ticket dispenser will surely note the one guest here under age 65. Grim acknowledgement: The mission is compromised in its infancy.
No matter, after several minutes
door tells me my next target is in
the other hallway, on the complete opposite side of the building.
Wonderful. I’ll be forced to cross
enemy lines in plain sight. The Crazy Floorplan Guy on Reddit was onto something after all! Why did I not anticipate something like this?!
I made the foolish assumption
that with school in recess, I could
camouf lage myself among hordes of other attendees as I switched from movie to movie. I spend the long
walk to The Hateful Eight talking
myself out of a surrender wherein
I bolt out of the theater screaming apologies for my foul intentions. Thankfully, Quentin Tarantino’s
masterful hands deliver me from the mental trenches.
The Hateful Eight has as much
gore as Saving Private Ryan and all the grandeur of a Joseph Turner
painting. If the film had a texture, it would be that of the tacky yet
luxuriant velour track pants I can’t
bear to part with. Or the soft, matte silicone phone case I once petted
for half an hour in Best Buy. Three
hours and two gluteal cramps later,
I’m jerked out of the reverie: Show’s over, it’s time to make moves. I
mentally applaud my selection
of a bandit f lick to set the proper ambiance for the illicit sortie.
As I exit the bay, a member of the
maintenance staff politely holds the
door open for me and smiles warmly. A chill runs down my vacant spinal cavity. He knows!
All resolve melts instantly and as
soon as he turns his head, I lunge for the closest door I can find and dart around spastically in the dark for
an unoccupied seat. The operation is now derailed, but I’m safe from
ticket nazis and have successfully snuck into a second showing.
Unfortunately, it soon reveals itself as the single most depraved thing I’ve ever seen.
I spend the next forty-five minutes
discovering that the light-hearted trailers for The Big Short were
all misleading. Cringing my way
through a scathing exposé of big
banks’ ham-fisted orchestration of
the Great Recession is not how I want to spend any holiday. My serotonin levels plummet like so many Wall Street dominoes.
As the credits roll, I’m parked
at rock bottom, having spiritually
metamorphosed into Steve Carell’s
miserable dye job. I emerge from the theater feeling defeated, thoroughly punished and in no mood to do any
more swindling. Limping shamefully for the exit doors, I am already curling into the fetal position. When I reach the lobby, I
unintentionally lock eyes with the
strange 33-year-old ticket clerk. In his beady perceptiveness he reads
the entire saga on my face as I slither out the main entrance. I don’t need to turn around to know he’s fist-
bumping the maintenance guy on another victory. By Molly Burke MARCH 2016
H O T O R N O T | G A B I G I M S O N , J A C K M O R I A R T Y | P H O T O G R A P H Y B Y: C H A R L O T T E M C C L U R E
Everyone thinks imaginary dogs are cute but their imaginary hemorrhoids are fucking gross, and they don’t think twice about diving snout-deep into their imaginary crotches when an itch hits.
Friendship means letting your pledge brother front the human centipede even though you called dibs because you know Ashley gave him a really gnarly cold sore at formal last week.
TFW you’re so asleep to the h8 that you snooze through Uber peak hours and end up saving your whole squad money, thereby dealing a vicious one-two punch to the h8.
Just when you’ve found a niche for yourself in the Russian Witch House scene, your new friends sacrifice your family’s only goat. On the bright side, you’ll no longer have to give Babushka her morning milk bath, but you’ll also never be sexually satisfied again. Ya win some, ya lose some.
In fifty years when Neil Degrasse Tyson reveals to the world that he mastered time traveling and age reversal back in ‘93, pictures and cave drawings from throughout human history are going to start making a lot more sense.
“LOL. How weird is it that we all have infinity symbol tattoos on our foot? What are the odds?!”
To everyone else it’s just a stupid conspiracy theory, but when you lock eyes with another believer, the intensity of that bond is something that actually could melt steel beams.
A secret is just a secret until it’s a kiss. And then it’s like a total breach of your discernment vows, Brother Vlad!
G E T T ING T O K NOW:
J E SS I C A JIN
I N T ER V I E W ED BY M AC M CC A N N | PH OTO G R A PH Y BY M A R SH A L L T I D R I CK Last fall, Jessica Jin, 25, gained international attention for organizing a “Campus
(DILDO) Carry” to protest guns in campus buildings, which, according to Facebook,
will be attended by more than 10,000 people. The first-generation American, who loves
Thomas Paine’s writings but hates Edmund Burke’s, caught up with Study Breaks after
she recently returned from a months-long “Great American Road Trip.” Here are some of the highlights:
The quotes have been condensed and edited for clarity.
> “My parents didn’t figure it out until a month after because my dad was on business in China and my mom was also visiting family in China, so both of my parents were out of the country. I just left it up to fate to see if they would ask me about it. About three or four weeks later, my mom messaged me and said, ‘Jessica, are you famous now?’” > “What’s really funny is that one woman wrote a really long comment about how I must be doing this because I’m insecure, because I’m Asian, and ‘Asian girls have small butts and are socially awkward.’” > “I don’t like it when people bring my race or my sex into this and try to use that against me, but it is also really awesome when they use it positively and they’re like, ‘Hey! This is a minority woman taking a stand against, for the most part, a bunch of white men.’” > “When I was at UT, I was on the rowing team and I have a Big XII championship ring. I also played water polo at UT and now play rugby. So, I do have an ass!” > “One college student reached out to me [about organizing an anti-campus carry event for her school] and she said, ‘I want to cover the lawns of my campus with clay pigeons’ [in response to an administrator claiming that unarmed students were ‘targets’]. I was like, ‘This is the best idea I’ve ever heard.’” > “Fighting absurdity with absurdity has a lot more longevity than a dildo stunt, so hopefully we can carry that on beyond this protest. If you can’t reason with them, then make fun of them.” > “I was born in Tennessee and raised in Texas, so I’ve been entrenched in gun culture my whole life. I love venison. I love it when people shoot deer and bring me deer jerky.” > “I considered, pretty seriously, getting a CHL [concealed handgun license]. I thought, ‘Hey maybe I should get a gun. I mean, I live in Texas. If people dumber than me are going to have guns, I might as well have guns too.’” >
“I totally respect highly trained people with tactical experience, but I think letting
any regular, fearful, untrained person carry around a weapon is [she hesitates] not exactly the best idea for society. Letting people think that that’s a normal thing is not cool either.”
“It’s suddenly part of my identity. I can’t help it anymore. I’m going to be known as
‘Dildo Girl’ until I do something more interesting.”
THE SUN GOD ALSO ADVISES: WORDS OF WISDOM FROM THE SUN GOD OF SAN MARCOS
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Mind, body and spirit. Three essential elements of everybody’s life. Typically these words crop up in literature associated with the practice of yoga. Well, I’d like to introduce you to one of the many ways I incorporate the mind-body-spirit idea into my life. Woga! I was at the gym doing my workout routine, listening to trance music with my earbud/Ipod-shuffle combo. My eyes were closed, focusing on the beat of the bass and my breathing. Suddenly I was in my zone, that peaceful place I go to when meditating. I forgot I was in the gym. I even forgot I was working out. It was nice. And awkward. Since I like my music loud, I don’t always hear what’s going on around me. Or within me. There was the time I started breathing too loud while doing my reps. I only know this because my buddies made fun of me later, asking me if I was having an orgasm on the French-curl machine. Then sometimes I go into a trance in between reps while sitting on the leg-press. I get tapped on the shoulder and see some hand-waving motion before I realize that someone wants to use the machine. We all know the benefits of exercise. Reduction of stress. Releasing body chemicals helpful to your wellbeing. Increasing the longevity and quality of your life. Making it a priority seems to be the problem with most of us. We’re too busy “adulting.” So let’s pretend we’re kids again. I remember going to gym (short for gymnasium). Coach had us do sit-ups and jumping jacks. Running laps and shooting hoops with the boys, square dancing with the girls (not cool back then with all the cooties going around). The idea was to make exercising fun. Teaching us early on that our bodies were just as important as our minds. Recess was a form of exercise for some, R&R for others. But I digress. Then I graduated and exercise was no longer required of me. But just because no If you’re a fan of the Sun God or one makes me exercise is no reason not to. the advice that he In fact, doing it on my own helps build selfgives, check out discipline into my life, something I know his books: River of The Innocents, definitely helped me reach my goals and Rainbows of The desires. River and River So regardless of what form of exercise is Rising. Each is a right for you, remembering its importance blend of fiction and spirituality that is the best way to bring it back into your life. is inspired by San Marcos and its river.
BY EMILIO HIDALGO
WH AT SH O UL D YO U D O F O R ST. PATRICK’S DAY
Are you Irish?
Born & raised?
How offensive are you? Racial Slur City /Mel Gibson
But green makes me look fat?
Sounds lit AF, Happy St. Patty’s Day
Study your culture & spend respectful time w/ your family But my
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Spring Break 2 016: Five Staycations from Hell M E TA M A RC H M A D N E SS: The March Madness of March Madnesses
C H OOS E YO U R OW N A DV E N T U R E: Sprang Breaaaaak Edition MARCH 2016 • AUSTIN • STUDYBREAKS.COM