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A R T , L O V E ,   C O N S C I O U S N E S S ,   A N D   G R I L L E D   C H E E S E

F I f t h E d i t i o n                         J u n e   2 0 1 1


“Outside” by  Verenice  (Mexico)

WHAT IS  THE  HAPPY THE  WEATHER  REPORT:  SWEET MR.  COSMIC  CHARLIE COLLECTIVE? I   grew   up   in   New   England-­-­   known   for   erratic   weather   and   drastic  






empowerment of   individuals   to   broadcast   and   receive   information   and   culture.   We   present   an   opportunity   for   you   to   become   part   of   something   larger   and   uniquely   human.  No  longer  counter-­culture,  no  longer   fringe,   no   longer   the   Other,   we   stand   together   to   unveil   our   own   significance   and   our   individual   artistic   interpretations   of   reality.  

Together, we   can   transcend   the  

illusionary boundaries   that   disempower   us   and   peel   back   the   imaginary   layers   of   separation  that  keep  us  from  actualizing  as  a   brilliant,  radiant  collective.

seasonal phases.  Even  on  a  season  to  season  basis  the  weather  seldom   makes  any  sense  at  all.  As  a  result  I’ve  become  more  than  accustomed   to  weather  that’s  out  of  the  ordinary-­-­  and  even  extraordinary  at  times.   I’ve   accepted   that   it’s   not   in   our   control,   but   more   importantly   I've   come  to  realize  that  we  don’t  really  need  it  to  be.   We  can  try  to  predict  it,  prepare  for  it,  plan  our  days  around  it-­-­  and   even  still  it’s  prone  to  throwing  us  curves  at  its  whim.  As  such,  the  only   real   route   around   the   problem   of   weather   is   learning   to   love   it   by   traipsing   directly   through   it,   persevering,   and   finding   that   it   doesn’t   need  to  dictate  the  amount  of  pleasure  in  a  day  (or  even  weigh  into  it   at  all)  unless  we  decided  to  let  it.     Not  all  rainy  days  have  to  be  dreary,  and  not  all  sunny  days  are  going   to  be  happy  due  to  the  weather  alone.  Our  joy  is  up  to  us  individually   as   well   as   collectively,   and   a   simple   step   in   achieving   that   joy   is   embracing  where  we  are  and  what  it  feels  like.


We're fools  whether  we  dance  or  not,  so  we  might  as  well  dance.



LAZY SUSAN Breathless,  she  looks  down  at  the  

unnatural in  the  July  air.  She  lies  

car with   two   people   inside.   Two  

rhythmic incantation   of   water;;  

on the  rock,  noticing  the  glint  of  

twenty year   old   guys   with   no  

she can  barely  feel  her  toes.  Her  

Sawyer Grace’s   suit   clasp   as   she  

shirts on,   what   luck!     She   asks  

entire body  is  pulsating  with  the  

flies through  the  air  fearless  and  

them for   advice   but   they   don’t  

anticipation of   the   river’s   cool  

proud like   the   river   into   which  

know so  she  calls  her  father.    He  

reception. Sawyer   Grace,   poised  

she was   fading.   No   one   to  

says, “Wait   until   it   cools   off   and  

on a   nearby   rock   with   a   Canon  



then continue.”   The   evening   is  

162, yells  “I’ll  catch  you  mid-­air!”  

because the  Canon  was  left  up  on  

still warm,   the   sun   still   lazing  

It bothers   her   that   the   moment  

the warm   round   rock.   She   pulls  

about in  the  sky,  not  to  disappear  

will end   up   immortalized   on  

Grace out  of  the  water  and  asks:  

‘til ten.   The   night   will   no   longer  

Facebook, but  she  lets  the  feeling  

“Again?” No,   too   tired.     Besides,  

be the   same,   but   it’s   okay.   They  

pass. Feelings   are   feelings,  

they have  a  sushi  date  at  5:30.

chat with  the  guys  for  a  few  more  

moments are   moments;;   and   at  

They sun-­dry   for   a   few  

minutes, and   find   out   that   they  

this particular   moment,   before  

boundless minutes   and   then   it’s  

are going   to   the   cliff!   She  

Sawyer Grace  can  issue  one  more  

on with  the  flip  flops,  up  with  the  

exchanges a   glance   with   Sawyer  

“chicken!” accusation,   she   leaps  

camera, and   into   the   old   dusty  

Grace and   then   gets   in   the   little  

forward slightly  to  the  left  of  the  

red car  parked  by  the  side  of  the  

blue car,  already  looking  forward  

jagged rock   formation   twenty  

road. Wet   hair   curling   and  

to the  shock  of  the  river.    

feet below   and   into   the   river.  

frizzing in   the   wind,   they   are  

The river,   never   so   cold;;  

Water has  never  felt  so  cold.  She  




has never  breathed  as  sharply  as  

encounter with   eternity   to   the  

purple-­blue;; breath,   never   so  

she does   when   she   breaks   the  

grandeur of   the   day   as   the   sun  


rushing water’s  glass  surface.  She  

falls lower  in  the  Montana  sky.

has never   seen   sky   so   cerulean,  

nor felt  air  so  soft.  She  blinks  and  

miles down   the   highway   Marie  

lets the   river   seep   under   her  

looks down   to   see   smoke  

nails, into  her  skin,  soak  her  hair.    

emerging from   the   passenger  

She adjusts   her   bikini   and   pulls  

side vents.  Swerving  off  the  road,  

herself up   onto   a   rock.   The   sun  

she curses.  Damn  old  car  always  

feels good.

breaking. Unfortunately,   it’s   her  

Space.   She   stares   at   the  

only transport.  Well!  They  won’t  

sky. Sawyer   Grace   is   breathless  

make their   sushi   date.   She   has  

and yelling,  but  she  cannot  hear.    

been looking   forward   to   tekka  

The river  is  too  loud,  the  song  too  

maki rolls  and  a  cold  sprite.    But  

wild, the   trees   too   green.    

now, approaching  them  from  the  


opposite direction,  is  a  small  blue  











They don’t   get   far.   Three  

“Cast Your  Mind” by  Stephen  Martin


The most  important  thing  to  teach  your  children  is  that the  sun  does  not  rise  and  set.  It  is  the  Earth  that revolves  around  the  sun.  Then  teach  them  the  concepts  of North,  South,  East  and  West,  and  that  they  relate  to where  they  happen  to  be  on  the  planet's  surface  at  that  time. Everything  else  will  follow.

CLEMENTINE Lazy Daisies  by  Snow  White

RUN INTO  FLOWERS ELEMENTALS Rest  your  weary  eyes I  say As  she  begins  to Dream. What  of,  is  a  mystery. Her  eyes,  closed As  she  lays  her  head  on  my  pillow. Another  calm  morning,  another  rough  night My  sheets  lay  halfway  across  the  room. With  a  small  portion  of  my  bed  available, I  lay  my  back  against  the  wall, Warm  like  a  space  heater. ”Come  here”  she  says Shivering  from  the  cold. She  yearns  for  my  heat  and  affection, I  lovingly  oblige. My  nose  rests  on  the  nape  of  her  neck Her  perfume,  some  foreign  flower, Still  poignant. She  falls  asleep  soon-­after. How  she  can  so  hastily  do  so, I  will  never  know. Strands  of  her  golden  sunkissed  hair  wander, Onto  the  front  of  her  face, Blocking  her  resplendent  beauty. I  run  my  fingertips  through  her  hair and  move  it  from  her  eyes. She  smiles, In  her  sleep From  this  subtle  act  of  love. Will  she  dream  of  me?


JOHN SPLIFF The  boy  sat  eating  a  clementine.  He  was  no  newcomer  to  the  world   of   eating   clementines;;   he   had   a   technique   and   believed   he   could   identify   the   tastiest   ones   by   look   and   feel.   His   current   specimen   was  particularly  delicious  so  far  but  he  worried  that  the  sections  in   the  second  half  would  not  meet  the  expectations  set  by  the  first.  At   that   moment   he   realized   that   the   best   way   to   eat   a   clementine   would   be   to   eat   it   all   at   once.   It   would   have   a   singular   taste   and   would   disappoint   and   amaze   simultaneously   instead   of   in   unpredictable  succession.  He  further  realized  that  it  would  be  in   his   best   interest   to   eat   all   the   clementines   in   the   universe   simultaneously   (instead   of   one   at   a   time,   which   is   what   he   had   been  doing  thus  far).  He  wondered  what  the  collective  flavor  of  so   much  fruit  would  be.  Would  the  foul  tasting  clementines  outdo  the   tasty  ones?  It  would  be  far  better  that  way  because  no  single  fruit   could   deceive   him   with   an   unusually   good   or   unusually   bad   experience.  He  would  have  a  perfect  knowledge  of  clementines  as  a   whole;;  he  would  know  how  they  taste  in  general.  At  that  time  the   boy  discovered  that  he  could  only  fit  one  clementine  in  his  mouth   and  thus  his  idea  was  impossible.  A  tear  came  to  his  eye.  If  he  can't   achieve  an  accurate  understanding  of  clementines  he  might  as  well   not  eat  them  at  all!  They  only  serve  to  fool  him. He   turned   to   his   friend   who   was   sitting   nearby   with   the   same   variety  of  citrus  in  his  hand.  The  boy  said,  “I  just  figured  out  that  I   hate   clementines   for   their   cruel   deceptive   properties”.   He   then   explained  his  predicament  fully  with  a  tone  of  fear  and  rage.  “Well,   if   you   think   about   it,   every   clementine   is   its   own   unique   entity”,   began  the  friend,  “In  all  of  the  cosmos  you  will  probably  not  find  an   identical   hunk   of   matter.   My   personal   philosophy   on   the   consumption  of  clementines  is  to  never  let  any  go  to  waste.  Even   the   gross   ones   can   be   composted   or   something.   You   shouldn't   squander  such  beautiful  little  packages  of  nutrients”  “You  can't  tell   me  what  to  do!”,  the  boy  said  in  retaliation.  He  felt  offended  and   belittled.  Although  he  knew  deep  down  that  his  friend  was  right,  he   was   too   proud   to   follow   his   advice.   Never   again   did   he   eat   the   forbidden  fruit,  and  he  eventually  became  a  bitter  old  man. His   friend,   however,   led   an   especially   wonderful   life   until   he   perished   from   eating   a   diseased   clementine.   On   his   deathbed   he   said   that   he   did   not   regret   eating   that   fateful   fruit,   and   in   fact   thinks  it  was  his  favorite  one.


SUMMER AND  FRIENDS DARIUS  RAIDER For  me,  summer  time  is  always  a  favorable  season;;  schools  out,  people   are   happy,   the   sun   is   shining   and   it   seems   that   the   ominous   cloud   of   obligation  is  lifted.  The  stress  of  school  is  quite  imposing  on  one’s  sanity.   The   responsibility   of     tests,   papers,   homework,   portfolios,   clubs,   etc,   it   can  all  pile  up  and  become  overwhelming.  Thus,  it’s  not  surprising  that   once  final  exams  are  done,  many  of  us  breathe  a  sigh  of  relief  -­  I  know  I   do.  I  also  feel  a  bit  nostalgic  when  school  is  out.     During   the   school   year,   all   my   friends   are   congregated   in   one   place,  and  therefore,  school  can  be  a  concentrated  dose  of  awesome  since   your  friends  are  there  with  you.  As  the  holidays  roll  around,  I  find  myself   wishing   that   more   of   my   individual   friends   weren’t   scattered   to   their   many  places  of  origin.  Of  course  this  isn’t  an  overbearing  thought;;  I  know   I’ll   see   them   all   again   in   a   few   months,   but   it’s   indicative   of   how   possessive  the  human  psyche  can  be.   It’s  a  very  human  emotion  to  want  to  hold  on  to  things  that  you   “Time”  by  Annabel  Lee love  and  enjoy.  The  busy  school  atmosphere  provides  a  lot  of  joy  to  my   life,   and   wanting   to   hold   on   to   that   is   quite   natural,   but   It’s   also   something  I  try  to  challenge.  I’m  not  trying  to  destroy  my  desire  to  see  my   OLD  DOG friends;;  I’m  trying  to  master  my  own  ego.  Why  do  I  feel  an  exaggerated   I  stood  there  in  The  Sun’s  light, sense  of  loss  when  I  won’t  see  someone  for  two  months?  It’s  because  the   The  soil  at  my  roots. pleasure   of   their   company   is   desirable.   I   am   attached   to   the   sense   of   A  golden  sun  with  a  purple  glow. belonging  I  feel  when  I’m  around  the  people  I  care  about.  In  a  sense,  your   Now,  I  look  down  to  see  My  self. friends  can  be  more  of  a  family  than  your  blood  relatives;;  you  see  them   Budding  outward,  a  purple  tulip  I  be. more   and   connect   with   them   beyond   a   simple   genetic   similarity.   The   Inside  lay  the  miniature  pinecone bond  of  a  friendship  is  strong,  and  thus,  so  is  the  attachment  your  ego  has   Who  grew  overnight. to  such  friendships. Grew  to  be  and  grow  it  shall  go.   By  recognizing  that  I’ve  formed  such  an  attachment,  I  look  inside   A  never-­ending  cycle. myself  to  identify  why  this  attachment  affects  me  the  way  it  does.  Though     I  won’t  say  I’m  a  hundred  percent  confident,  I  think  that  the  reason  this   I  lay  in  The  Sun’s  light attachment  occurs  is  because  when  you  are  invested  in  the  lives  of  other   As  I  sit  in  my  dark  room. people,  you  like  to  be  up  to  date  on  what  they  are  doing.  The  lifestyle  we   As  I  pretend  to  sleep  in  moving   lead  in  college,  where  you  can  walk  up  the  street  and  meet  five  buddies   automobiles. hanging   out,   definitely   keeps   you   connected.   You   are   always   aware   of   As  I  walk  through  my  waking  life. what   cool   things   are   going   on   and   your   friends   perpetuate   the   cycle   of   As  I  roam  through  my  dreams. involvement.   When   you   lose   that   proximity,   you   also   lose   a   sense   of   I  close  my  eyes,  yes. involvement;;   loose   too   much   involvement   in   friend’s,   life   and   your   And  with  that  I  see. friendship  can  drift  apart.  If  I  think  about  it  logically,  I  know  that  a  few     months  of  relaxation  is  not  going  to  destroy  the  friendships  that  I  have   I  see  that  All  is  One built.   However,   the   primal   fear   of   losing   a   connection   with   someone   important  is  what  I  think  causes  my  attachments  to  manifest  themselves. Like  You And  Me. continued  on  the  next  page



SUMMER AND FRIENDS  (continued) DARIUS  RAIDER Thinking   about   how   and   why   I   always  feel  this  way  during  summer   has   made   me   appreciate   the   Buddhist  philosophy  of  letting  go  of   desire.     A   true   friend   will   be   there   despite   a   large   gap   in   time,   but   the   fear  of  letting  go  of  a  friend  (even  if   the   fear   is   irrational)   is   something   that  shows  me  how  much  I  can  still   work   on   improving   my   own   cognitive  function.  By  admitting  my   fear   I   can   work   towards   accepting  

“I Dream  of  Apocalypse”  by  Stephen  Martin

that everything,


including this  life  and  existence,  is  meant  to  come  and  go.  Holding  


on to  the  material  world  is  to  try  and  keep  something  that  isn’t  meant  

The brain,  it  has  been  measured. Weigh  it  out  on  a  scale,   you  will  soon  see  the  scale, of  what  I've  come  to  say.

to be   kept.   Letting   go   doesn’t   mean   burning   a   bridge,   it   means  

What is  the  Universe?

and I  love  my  school.  I  like  to  spend  time  with  people  and  live  life  

The body  of  the  whole,   I  stretch  beyond  the  measure, of  mark  or  rhythm,   of  accent  &  movement. These  all  accelerate  me,   away  from  the  self. So  I  imagine  insurmountable  speeds at  an  absolute  stillness.

accepting what  happens  as  a  part  of  the  natural  harmony  of  life.  

I spend  my  summers  living  in  my  head  a  lot.  I  love  my  friends  

with them,   however,   when   that   is   taken   away,   when   the   noise   is   muted  and  the  vibrations  slow  to  a  frequency  hardly  moving…  that’s   when  I  realize  that  sometimes  the  best  way  to  appreciate  something   is  to  be  unsaturated  from  it.  Have  a  great  break,  from  the  shadow  of   Darius  Raider.

Perplexed. For when  I  am  in  your  presence, I  realize  I  am  more  than  the  self. Slowly,  we  may  acknowledge  the  truth. A  new  living  is  at  hand. An  art-­form  of  life,  is  around  the  bend. Viscous  blood  and  sweet  surprise, slowly  rise  inside  the  eyes, just  to  see,  what  we  could  be, if  it  wasn't  much  to  simply  survive.

“Confusion” by  Verenice  (Mexico)


AN UPDATE  TO  SYNCHRONICITY: Psychological  Progress  Through  Unlocking  The  Doors  Of  Perception FLYNNIUS In   last   month’s   issue   I   reported   on   some   of   my   most   recent   personal   research   regarding   the   topic   of   synchronicity.   If   you   didn’t   read   the   article   –and   I   suggest   you   do-­   I   wrote   that   Carl   Jung’s   theory   of   synchronicity   explains   that   although   coincidences   are   causally   unrelated   in   nature,   through   our   observation   of   these   events,   and   the   intricate  conceptual  relationships  of  our  minds  created  by  a  collective   unconscious,   a   meaningful   non-­causal   relationship   of   coincidental   events  is  created.  I  went  on  to  explain  that  synchronistic  events  occur   when   we   recognize   casually   coincidental   events   as   conceptually   meaningful.  I  later  explained  that  by  experiencing  synchronistic  events,   we   are   able   to   grow   psychologically.   In   addition,   I   reported   on   a   connection   between   the   theory   of   synchronicity   and   that   of   Aldous   Huxley,  who  suggested  that  we  can  experience  psychological  growth  by   altering  our  consciousness  through  meditation,  introspection,  and  the   use   of   psychedelic   drugs.   Finally,   I   explained   that   this   connection   is   evident  in  some  recent  research;;  in  my  preliminary  study,  18  out  of  20   people   surveyed   who   practice   mind-­expanding   activities   reported   an   increased  ability  to  perceive  synchronistic  events.  

Having conducted  more  research  on  the  topic  in  the  last  month,  

I would  like  to  elaborate  on  my  first  article  through  the  addition  of  some   new  statistical  data.  continued  on  the  next  page

“The Peacock  Man”  by  kef

“A Little  Bird  Told  Me”  by  Snow  White


Just a  simple  glance Short  and  fleeting Small  enough  to  disappear From  the  mind  in  a  few Simple  seconds.   Yet  I  remember  this One  look  far  more Than  I  remember  any  other Because  when  I  looked Into  that  cracked  and  broken Bathroom  mirror.   I  did  not  recognize  myself.   I  did  not  know  whose Eyes  I  was  gazing  into Whose  hair  grew  from  that  head Nor  could  I  see  where  the Resemblance  was.   Between  this  person  and  me.   I  did  not  understand How  this  reflection  could  be A  true  representation  of  me It  was  just  a  slab  of  glass Merely  polished  metal.   What  could  it  show  me?



“Nothing New”  by  Darius  Raider

Blue moon  sways,  anchored  deep  in  lunar  wait Dressed  as  heaven,  though  raw  and  cold As  the  seabed  was  torn  under  ships  they  swarmed, The  background  of  the  night  hid  horrors   From  nature’s  fate,  births  the  cause  to  human  grace When  kindness  speaks  no  words   Earthly  shocks  to  souls  they  once  dreamed  to  hold In  the  mornin’  when  the  sun  would  rise Nightmares  of  the  land  clashing  war  with  the  sand Denied  a  selfish  wish  to  see  their  light   From  nature’s  fate,  births  the  cause  to  human  grace When  kindness  speaks  no  words   Cracking  eastern  soil  for  the  sea  to  tear  down  hope Of  human  hearts,  weakened  at  their  core For  the  lives  they  create  and  the  plans  they’ve  made Chose  victim  for  heaven’s  score   From  nature’s  fate,  births  the  cause  to  human  grace When  kindness  speaks  no  words   So  remember  this  night,  when  the  birth  of  spring  roots  light During  the  grievance  of  falling  apart From  the  world  they’ve  known,  they’ve  captured  the  ropes Tying  soul  after  soul,  after  soul   From  nature’s  fate,  births  the  cause  to  human  grace When  kindness  speaks  no  words

AN UPDATE  TO  SYNCHRONICITY  (continued): Psychological  Progress  Through  Unlocking  The  Doors  Of  Perception FLYNNIUS In   a   recent   voluntary   response   survey,   I   asked   a   pool   of   hundreds   of   subjects   to   answer   honestly   to   the   following   question:   “While   undergoing   an   experience   that   dramatically   alters   consciousness,   such   as   meditation,  intense  introspection,  or  the  use  of  psychedelic  drugs,  do  you  find  that  your  ability  to  perceive   synchronistic  events  is  heightened?"  The  response  was  generally  an  affirmative  one,  in  that  76.12%  of  the   individuals  who  responded  said  yes.  

While this  figure  is  less  dramatic  than  that  of  my  original  survey,  it  is  still  highly  suggestive  of  my  

theory that  an  individual’s  ability  to  perceive  synchronistic  events  is  heightened  both  during  and  after  the   practice  of  consciousness  altering  activities,  suggesting  that  the  theories  of  Aldous  Huxley  and  Carl  Jung   validate  each  other.  

As I  have  said  many  times  before,  I  feel  that  in  understanding  these  complex  psychological  concepts,  

we gain  knowledge,  both  of  others  and  ourselves.  In  turn  this  cardinal  knowledge  allows  us  to  better  our  own   lives  and  society  as  a  whole.  Accordingly,  I  hope  to  continue  on  my  path  of  research  on  this  topic  and  many   others,  and  I  will  keep  the  readers  of  THC  posted  on  any  future  updates.


School’s Out  Festival  Calendar   Mountain  Jam  2011


June 2-­5,  Hunter  Mountain,  Hunter,  NY


June 4,  Fort  Armistead  Park,  Baltimore,  MD


June 9-­12,  Great  Stage  Park, Manchester,  TN


Umphrey's McGee,  Toubab  Krewe, Big  Gigantic,  Lotus

Bassnectar, EOTO,  Infected   Mushroom,  Lotus


WHAT WE  LIKE: Widespread  Panic,  String  Cheese   Incident,  Primus,  Pretty  Lights,   STS9,  Henry  Rollins,  Shpongle


$200 tier  5,  $215  day  of



Electric Forest  Festival

Harmony Festival June  10-­12,  Sonoma  County  Fairgrounds, Santa  Rosa,  CA



Toubab Krewe,  Bassnectar,   Emancipator,  String  Cheese  Incident,   Pretty  Lights,  Big  Gigantic,  EOTO

Primus, The  Flaming  Lips,  Edward   Sharpe




$240+fees at  price  level  2

Super Ball  IX  (Phish)

Camp Bisco  X

July 1-­3  Watkins  Glen  International, Watkins  Glen,  NY

July 7-­9,  Indian  Lookout  Country  Club, Mariaville,  NY WHAT  WE  LIKE:


The Disco  Biscuits,  Shpongle  Live,   Pretty  Lights,  Rusko,  Ratatat,  Black   Moth  Super  Rainbow,  Tobacco,   Skrillex,  Lotus,  RJD2,  Easy  Star  All   Stars,  Yeasayer,  Emancipator

Phish. Phestival.

TICKETS $200 advance,  $230  day  of


Pitchfork Music  Festival


July 15-­17,  Union  Park,  Chicago,  IL WHAT  WE  LIKE:

June 30,  Double  JJ  Ranch, Rothbury,  MI


Grateful Fest  2012 Nelson  Ledges  Quarry  Park, Garretsville  OH WHAT  WE  LIKE: Rusted  Root,  Keller  Williams,  Jerry   Garcia  Band


All Good  Music  Festival July  14-­17,  Marvin's  Mountaintop, Masontown,  WV WHAT  WE  LIKE: moe.,  Umphrey's,  Toubab  Krewe,   STS9,  Keller  Williams,  Furthur,   Pretty  Lights,  Big  Gigantic,  Primus

TICKETS $199 Thursday  arrival,   $169  Friday  arrival

The rest  of  July,  August,  and September  on  the  next  page....

Animal Collective,  Fleet  Foxes,   OFWGKTA,  DJ  Shadow,  TV  on  the  Radio

TICKETS $45/day (3-­day  sold  out)



School’s Out  Festival  Calendar  (Continued) Gathering  of  the  Vibes July  21-­24,  Seaside  Park,  Bridgeport,  CT WHAT  WE  LIKE: Furthur,  Jane's  Addiction,  moe.,   Big  Gigantic


The Big  Up

L.A. Rising

July 28-­30,  Sunnyview  Farm, Ghent,  NY WHAT  WE  LIKE: EOTO,  Big  Gigantic,  Raq



Lollapalooza August 5-­7,  Grant  Park,  Chicago,  IL

WHAT WE  LIKE: Deadmau5,  Atmosphere,  Ratatat,   Explosions  in  the  Sky,  The  Mountain  Goats


$90 advance,  $120  Day  of

Outside Lands Music  &  Arts  Festival August  12-­14,  Golden  Gate  Park, San  Francisco,  CA WHAT  WE  LIKE:


Phish, The  Meters,  MGMT,  Lotus


Electric ZOO


July 30,  Los  Angeles  Memorial  Coliseum, Los  Angeles,  CA

WHAT WE  LIKE: Lauryn  Hill,  Immortal  Technique

TICKETS $113 GA  Field

Identity Festival August  20  (other  dates  in other  cities),  Comcast  Center, Mansfield,  MA

WHAT WE  LIKE: Rusko,  Steve  Aoki,  DJ  Shadow, Datsik

TICKETS $52 lawn

September 2-­4,  Randall's  Island  Park, New  York,  NY WHAT  WE  LIKE: Moby,  Boys  Noize,  MSTRKRFT,  Big   Gigantic,  Skrillex,  Infected  Mushroom, The  Bloody  Beetroots  


moe.down XII September  2-­4,  Gelston  Castle  Estate, Mohawk,  NY WHAT  WE  LIKE: moe.,  Ween,  Railroad  Earth

TICKETS $115 tier  2

“Vibe” by  Stephen  Martin


AMERICAN IDIOT  IS  BRILLIANT REVEREND  GODLESS Before  I  begin,  let  me  get  this  out  of   the   way:   I   know   it   was   overplayed   into  total  oblivion.  Green  Day  totally   betrayed   you   or   whatever.   I   totally   get   that   and   I’m   here   for   you.     Totally.     But   more   importantly,   I’m   here   to   tell   you   something:   American   Idiot   was   a   good   album.   “But   Reverend,”   you   squeal   in   a   delightfully   whiny   fashion,   “How   could   you   ever   justify   fucking   ‘Give   Me  Novacaine’  to  a  hardxcore  punk   fan   like   myself?!”   Well,   sit   back,   little   Jimmy,   because   I’m   about   to   rock  your  world.   If   you   were   alive   when   the   album   came   out,   you   enjoyed   it   at   some   point,   that’s   just   science.   For   most   of   you   reading   this,   you   were   most   likely   in   middle   school,   just   starting   to   get   rebellious   and   anti-­American   after   your   brief   stint   with  patriotism  following  9/11;;  that   is   to   say,   this   album   was   made   for   you.  Then,  when  it  saw  monumental   success   and   was   on   every   radio   station   every   moment   of   every   day,   you   had   had   enough   and   began   to   hate   it;;   again,   for   most   of   you,   this   was  probably  around  when  you  were   starting   high   school.   This   process   actually   corroborates   what   I’m   about   to   tell   you:   not   only   was   that   album   made   for   you,   it   was   made   about  you-­-­  or  rather,  us.  Let’s  take  a   look   at   the   album   as   a   whole,   shall   we?   The   music   is   mostly   a   loud,   overly-­polished,   punk-­ish   sound   that   is   designed   to   get   in   your   face.   The   lyrics   are   contrived   and   whiny   and   the   story   is   fairly   weak   and  

amorphous   (The   closest   I   can   describe  it:  What  if  Fight  Club  and   Ziggy   Stardust   had   a   baby   and   ditched   it   in   some   alley?)       It   is   defiant   and   angry,   but   it   doesn’t   seem   to   know   why.   It   goes   places   for  seemingly  no  reason  other  than   “fuck   it”   and   then   ends   up   back   again  with  nothing  to  show  for  the   trouble.    It  is  for  these  reasons  that   it   may   very   well   be   the   most   accurate   artistic   representation   of   our  generation  in  existence.  Not  to   put  words  into  the  mouths  of  Green   Day,   but   when   Cigarettes   and   Valentines   was   stolen   and   the   group   decided   to   make   a   concept   album,  they  looked  out  at  the  youth   of  America  and  decided  to  tell  their   story.   (Sidenote:   When   that   story   sold,  the  album’s  style  infected  the   band,   causing   the   abortion   known   as   21st   Century   Breakdown   to   crawl  out  of  the  abyss.  Let  me  make   this   clear:   I   will   not   defend   that   album,  and  yes,  it  is  our  fault  that  it   exists.  We  are  monsters.)   This   also   explains   our   generation’s  reactions  towards  it  in   our  various  stages  of  development.   In   middle   school,   it   served   as   our   voice  as  we  found  ourselves  singing   along   and   meaning   every   word   without   even   knowing   what   the   words   meant.   In   high   school,   we   turned   our   backs   on   it.     This   was   partly   due   to   the   middle   school   connotation   and   partly   because   it   was  far  too  mainstream—it  can  no   longer   voice   our   rebellion   if   grandma  is  singing  along,  too.  But   now,  in  college,  a  time  when  many  

of  us  look  back  to  our  roots  and  do   some   soul-­searching,   perhaps   we   can   all   give   the   album   another   listen   with   this   defense   in   mind   and   learn   to   appreciate   how   it   relates  to  our  lives  today.  Trust  me.   Even   though   it   means   you   do   in   fact  have  to  listen  to  “Wake  Me  Up   When   September   Ends”   for   the   OH-­GOD-­WHY-­DOES-­IT-­KEEP-­   EXISTING-­th’s  worth  it.

Dream the  impossible  dream and  the  world  will  not grind  you  under, it  will  lift  you  up! This  is  the  trick,  this  is  what all  the  teachers and  philosophers  who really  touched  the alchemical  gold,  this  is  what   they  understood!  This  is  how magic  is  done: its  done  by  hurling yourself  into  the  abyss and  discovering  that its  a  featherbed. -­TERENCE  MCKENNA

“Untitled” by  Verenice  (Mexico)


DEAR _____________ ANNABEL  LEE Dear  ____________, There  comes  a  time  when  you  look  back  on  your  life  and  there’s  so   much   that   you   feel   you’ve   missed;;   and   on   the   other   hand,   there’s   also  so  much  you  wish  you  actually  had  missed.  We  continually  ask   ourselves   what   we   would   have   done   differently.   We   relive   and   replay  moments  of  our  lives  in  our  heads  like  movie  clips. Maybe  we  learn  something  from  it.  Maybe  it  helps  us  put  things  into   perspective.   Maybe   it   just   drives   the   point   home   more.   Maybe   it   makes  it  hurt  less.  Maybe  it  makes  it  hurt  more.  Maybe  it  makes  us   happier  in  some  way.  Maybe  it  keeps  us  in  the  past. Writing   a   letter   to   my   past   self   seems   so   cliché-­-­something   I   will   perhaps  later  mock  myself  for  doing  because  I  feel  like  I’m  in  grade   school.   But   you…   you’re   a   part   of   me   that   doesn’t   really   exist   anymore.   Perhaps   this   is   more   an   exercise   in   catharsis   than   “Untitled”  by  Hammy anything  else  because  I  am  actively  forcing  myself  to  look  upon  the   past  and  evaluate.


I wish  that  I  had  known  so  many  things  that  I  know  now:  that  some   people   aren’t   worth   it   and   that   others   really   are;;   that   it’s   okay   to   RAINBOW make  mistakes,  and  it  always  will  be;;  that  school  isn’t  the  only  thing   Sit  all  around  children  and  ill  tell  you  the   tale  of  Rainbow.... to  do  in  life;;  that  rules  don’t  always  have  to  be  followed;;  and  that  life   She  was  a  long  time  in  the  making  friends,  ill   is  supposed  to  be  questioned. tell  you, If   there   were   some   way   to   actually   send   this   letter   to   the   past,   perhaps   I   would   put   more   thought   into   it,   or   maybe   not   more   thought,  but  more  substance—actual  things  of  importance.  Maybe  I   would  pour  my  soul  into  some  typed-­up  pages  to  send  to  a  confused   10-­year-­old. I   wonder   what   that   10-­year-­old   would   do.   Would   she   actually   consider  the  advice  in  the  letter?  Would  she  even  know  who  I  was?   What  a  conundrum...what  would  you  do? What  else  do  I  have  to  do  but  end  this  letter  in  a  sigh  and  maybe   some  small,  flickering  and  far  off  hope  that  one  day  I’ll  be  able  to   write  to  my  past  self  in  earnest?  Because  to  be  quite  honest,  she  can   use  all  the  help  she  can  get. This  sorely  misdirected  letter…  This  is  perhaps  the  most  pointless   thing  I  have  ever  written. Sincerely, _________________

Shes weathered  many  years  of  stormy  hell, But  out  of  the  whipping  wind  and  rain, A  calm  came  again.... A  bright  light  appears  from  the  right, And  it  showers  her  minds  eye  with  white   light, Something  inside  is  set  in  motion, In  a  shimmering  explosion, Rainbow  appears, Stretches  out,  expands,  she  is  every  color  of   the  Universe, She  is  every  mood,  every  feeling, She  is  beautiful  and  sweet, She  is  tragic,  she  is  deep, She  is  shining! And  all  of  a  sudden, She  is  gone  in  an  instant, She  goes  as  fast  as  she  came, Bursting  into  a  thousand  particles, She  returns  to  the  Universe!  



FACE EXPRESSIONS #FaceExpressions   serves   as   a   platform   upon   which   students   may   express   themselves.   Inspired   by   TED   2011   Prize   winner   JR,   whose   work   in   many   societies   has   questioned   taboos,   #FaceExpressions   aims   to   prove   that   we,   the   Millennial  generation,  are  not  a  quiet  generation.  Our  generation  has  the  right  to  express  ourselves,  yet  we  often  lack   the  means  to  do  so.  In  a  world  where  we  are  constantly  communicating,  ideas  often  lose  their  significance.  Every   message   displayed   is   chosen   by   the   individual   and   there   are   no   restrictions   as   to   what   the   statement   may   be.   #FaceExpressions  communicates  in  a  new  and  artistic  way  using  individuals’  faces  as  a  canvas  for  them  to  be  heard.   The  pictures  are  high-­contrast  in  order  to  emphasize  our  natural  beauty  as  humans.  #FaceExpressions  shows  that   you  do  not  have  to  be  a  skilled  artist  in  order  to  create  great  art.  One  of  our  goals  is  to  promote  community  projects   and  inspire  our  peers  to  turn  words  in  to  actions.  We  hope  that  the  pictures  make  you  question  who  you  are  as  part  of   your  surrounding  community.

Photos continue  on  the  next  page



THE NINETIES with  summer  comes memories  of  summers past

we asked  our  contributors who  were  kids  in  the  nineties   about  their  childhood  favorites and  collected  some  photos from  the  era  for  throwbacks

THC gets nostalgic

the larger  the  answer,  the more  popular  it  was.  photos are  not  credited  to  their submitees  for  pseudonym protection.

What did  you  want  to be  when  you  grew  up? an i r a architect terin ve artist t u a n o vide r t s o  ga a teacher me  d esig dolphin  traine ner r r o t ac r doctor e c i f of   law e lic o ye p t o r fighter  pil man garbage  

What was  your  favorite Pop  Tart  flavor?

What video  games did  you  like  to  play?

z elda c i n so ario m pokemon er r my  old whateve d sibling  playe

ry r e b blue

brown sugar  cinnamon

y r r e b w a r st




THE NINETIES  (CONTINUED) THC gets nostalgic What  were  your favorite  cartoons?

teenage mutant  ninja  t

oo d y b


ts rpuff girls rthur a r g u r a looney  tune the  powe s po dexter’s  lab scoo

What was  your favorite  summer treat? snonwes co


pinky and the  brain

lemonade n o l e


ice cream


rocko’s modern  

goosebumps a wrink le  in  time series  of p



eter p


judy blum

harry potter


e books


rin e h t   f o rd  

lo n-­ad ventu re bo magic  tree  hous e  b animorph s


ne junie b.  jo




Who was  your  favorite Disney  princess?

What was  your  favorite book/series?

unfortunate events

double dare

! hey arnold

m r e at




snow white

jasmine cinderella

s a t n o pocah belle


SHELTER FROM  THE STORM BUCKLEY  YORKE The  sheets  crinkle  onto  my  bare  feet, As  I  strip  my  socks  of  dripping  sleet, In  the  cotton  covers  I  tightly  wrap, With  my  knees  squeezing  up  to  my  lap, The  clicks  of  raindrops  sooth  my  ears, As  my  mind  and  body  grow  free  of  fears, But  someone  out  there  soaks  from  the  storm, As  my  body’s  staying  dry  and  warm, While  he  coughs  and  chokes  on  the  city  smoke, Tears  overflow  over  the  stiletto  that  broke, He  chuckles  as  the  suited  businessman  glares, His  fingers  stroking  through  his  lucky  hairs, The  coins  he  jingles  flatter  him  with  ease, Seeing  the  thunder  as  only  a  breeze, Underneath  these  satin  sheets  I  shrug, The  pillow  that  makes  me  a  languid  slug Does  this  master  bed  make  me  truly  blessed, Or  leave  me  unable  to  be  impressed, I  would  gladly  give  up  this  heated  floor, To  someone  who’d  appreciate  it  more

THANKS FOR  READING! Dear  Reader, Just   by   picking   this   up   and   reading   it,   you   are   an   awesome  person.  Our  friend  and  fellow  writer  Sunny   Side   Up   says   it   best:   “The   Happy   Collective   is   not   a   destination   where   we   finally   meet   each   other,   but   rather  it  is  a  realization  that  we  have  been  with  each   other   all   along.”   Everyone   who   is   involved   in   The   Happy   Collective   finds   joy   not   only   in   what   we’ve   created,   but   also   in   sharing   it   and   interacting   with   other   like-­minded   individuals.   Do   you   have   something  you  would  like  to  contribute?  Whether  it   be   art,   poetry,   an   essay,   comments,   suggestions,   hellos,   or   virtual   hugs,   email   them   to   along   with   your   desired  pen  name.         Keep  on  keepin’  on, Jimmy  Jazz  and  the  rest  of  The  Happy  Collective P.S.  -­  We  will  be  sending  good  vibes  your  way.   Note:  Some  of  the  original  work  has  been  edited  for   content  and  grammar.

“Life Cycles”  by  kef


SUBMIT@HAPPYCOLLECTIVE.COM The theme  for  the  next  issue  is  freedom. Share  your  voice! Also  check  out for  more  art,  more  love, and  more  tales  of  consciousness. And  definitely  more  grilled  cheese  :)  


School's Out For Summer: The Fifth Edition of the Happy Collective  

In this edition we reminisce about our 90s childhoods and talk about summer. Also, we feature a project by a BU student called "Face Express...

School's Out For Summer: The Fifth Edition of the Happy Collective  

In this edition we reminisce about our 90s childhoods and talk about summer. Also, we feature a project by a BU student called "Face Express...