OCTOBER 13 2017

OCTOBER 13, 2017

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EST. 1999

OBERLIN’S STUDENT NEWS MAGAZINE READ ONLINE AT THEOBERLINGRAPE.COM

Editors-in-Chief

Content Editors

Luke Fortney Jake Berstein

Casey Redcay Dana Brandes-Simon Isabel Klein

Production Editors Leora Swerdlow Gabe Schneier Ben Guterl

Copy Editors

Staff Writer

Kameron Dunbar Molly Bryson Benjamin Silverman Ian Feather Julie Schreiber

October 13, 2017

Photo Editor

Web Editor

Emma Webster

Ezra Goss

INTRODUCING: JAKE BERSTEIN

ON-THE-RECORD WITH THE GRAPE’S NEW EDITOR-IN-CHIEF

BY LUKE FORTNEY EDITOR-IN-CHIEF Jake Berstein is coming to the post of Editor-In-Chief after more than a year of work as a staff writer and features section editor with The Grape. In that time, he’s brought an investigative flair to features, reporting on topics as varied as faculty diversity, labor union negotiations, and the student boycotts of Gibson’s Bakery. As a reporter, Jake has been known to waiver between falling asleep mid-interview and asking the hard-hitting questions that force sources to go “off-offthe-record.” As a fourth-year student, he tends to his many houseplants, cares for his cat Paul, and seems to feel no shame when it comes to wearing all white after labor day.

I sat down with The Grape’s new Editor-In-Chief to discuss his vision for the upcoming year.

Some people observing our staff from the outside have said that what we’re doing is replicating the newspaper model that The Oberlin Review uses. Is that how it feels to you?

Taking ourselves seriously doesn’t mean producing exclusively serious content or having a serious layout.

It does mean being serious about the art that we print.

It means putting out a robust satire section each week.

It means producing content that doesn’t have mistakes in it.

Mistakes aren’t what make us The Grape. It’s our feel and attitude. So let’s get rid of the mistakes already.

If the Review has a monopoly over taking themselves seriously and printing an immaculate paper, then sure, let’s be the Review.

Obviously, you’re a new Editor-In-Chief to The Grape.

How do you feel?

I’m really happy to take on a leadership role because I love working with people. Without tooting my own horn too much, communicating as a team is something I’m really comfortable with. I get it from my mom.

You’re a fourth year. I’m a fourth year. Where do you want to leave The Grape off when we graduate in the spring?

The best case scenario is that you and I leave The Grape with people who are willing to step up and share our love of this paper. I want people who are involved with The Grape to realize that, with passion, they can make it whatever they want it to be. Anyone who cares enough can do it. I didn’t study journalism until very recently, but now I’m the Editor-In-Chief.

What goes into healthy communication on a team?

It’s literally just talking to the people who are working on the same thing as you. It doesn’t mean that everyone’s on the same page, but it’s making sure that everyone feels like they’re being heard. If I come to a layout person with a bad idea but I’m really behind it, I want them to tell me that they don’t think it’s good for The Grape. I’m not going to pretend like I know best. I don’t.

Do you think that can happen?

Yeah, and it’s because of the writers. When I was a features editor, I just couldn’t help but be awestruck throughout the entire process. Not only are they taking the time to write an article, but they also listen to my comments. They actually listen. They take my

FRONT COVER BY JAKE BERSTEIN. BACK COVER BY TOM MORRISON. SECTION HEADERS BY JOSH BLANKFIELD.

comments into account to make their article better, even when they have midterms.

Picture it: students come out to our meetings, pitch ideas in front of a group of mostly strangers, and then find the time to spend sometimes ten hours on an article—and they do it all without getting paid. Why do you think that is?

People love The Grape. We give writers a lot of freedom of style so that their voices can come through. That lets people write the things that they care about and that people want to read.

There’s a lot of momentum on The Grape staff right now. Does that make you nervous at all?

The only reason I’m not nervous is that I’ve spent enough time with our staff to know that they’ve got it with or without me.

Editor-In-Chief Jake Berstein, age 15.

OCTOBER 13, 2017

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WHAT’S THE STORY, FRIEND? ADIDAS SWEATS, SCIENTOLOGY, AND PAYING FOR ABSOLUTION

BY AUSTIN FEUER CONTRIBUTING WRITER On an impulse, my dear friend Sam and I decided to give Scientology a go — if only for a couple of hours. After finishing work, we met at an oldfashioned barbershop for a trim, and later rejoiced in our newfound good looks by feasting on bento boxes and a platter of jalapeño yellowtail from the place across the street. We were to trek downtown on the Q, hit 42nd Street station, and bear the ongoing sweaty procession that is Times Square in midsummer. As to many, but more particularly to someone like me from the Wild West, the heart of New York City was and always is a garish blur—several undersized Adidas sweat suits; loud folks charming tourists into purchasing tickets to comedy shows, developmental mixtapes for kids, or really anything on hand that they’re willing to spare; near-nude cowboys with “TRUMP” on the tush; and statuettes of liberty on collapsible tables. Forward we marched, scintillations of cameras through stifling sewer smoke ahead — dear god did I want to turn back. But Sam convinced me to persist with his

silly, expectant face, and after the tenminute trudge under urban heat, we finally reached a beautiful exhibition of architectural skill: the Richard Rodgers Theatre. It’s an august venue that is known for lodging Hamilton, among other Broadway hits, and as we turned around in heavy sweat, we found the slightly less beautiful, yet oddly imposing, Church of Scientology of New York. Wide-eyed, giggly, and adolescently dumb, we knew we were in for a life-altering encounter — and so in we went, oiled and ready for our first bout with the posthumous L. Ron Hubbard and his lasting proselytizing effort. We were prizefighters, restless on our side of the ring, unaware of who or what we were about to face. Yet in we went.

“The name’s Rémy,” he leaned in for a handshake. “And yours?”

“I’m Austin,” I said with a raised assuredness. “And this, this is Sam. You said your name was?”

“Rémy, French name.” Sam was biting his tongue, his cheeks flushed.

Rémy, an older man, slightly unkempt,

balding, sizable glasses, pants above navel, and a short gaudy tie over a dull, plaid button-down, welcomed us to the church. And after asking what brought us there that day and us stammering over what to say, he took us on a little tour — “a video tour,” he said, guiding us toward stiff

clumsy, yet professionally put together films endured a slate of beautiful faces and shitty acting (of course, Sam and I were disappointed that Mr. Cruise wasn’t in the mix), and as Sam dug teeth into tongue, I feigned enough sincerity and interest for Rémy to offer us “a sort of personality test, 30 to 40

“YOU JUST HAVE TO KEEP READING BOOKS, KEEP TAKING CLASSES. IT’S A LONG AND DIFFICULT PROCESS, BUT ONE DAY YOU CAN BE LIKE ME. RESULTS THROUGH THE ROOF—ALWAYS HAPPY.” red cushions placed uncomfortably close to a hypnotic flatscreen. Here, we learned of Dianetics, or, “what’s going on in here,” Rémy tapping his finger on his brow, then attending us to another screen that considered the Thetan, or the life-force — “We call it that to edge confusion from other religions with spirits.” Both of these

minutes tops.” Of course, Sam jumped right in, and I acquiesced. Rémy, mind in repose, took us downstairs, where several imposing figures awaited our descent — smiling mouths, hawkish eyes.

After reaching the testing center, the first thing I noticed was

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PHOTO FROM THEREALDEAL.COM

again, by written artifice, worked to seemingly heighten the difficulty and legitimacy of the assessment.

how incredibly clean it all was. A wooden, communal table stood next to myriad bookshelves, and on it lay a large basket holding sundry delicacies — bruising oranges, baby bells, scattered crackers, puny water bottles.

The bookshelves were brimming with red hardcovers swathed in plastic film, untouchable and doubled in size. We registered with pseudonyms through the center, and were then sat down in respective cubbies to take the 100-question, multiple-choice exam. It was oddly reminiscent of a more intrusive Meyers-Briggs or Love Language test, where each question prompted a prioritization of a certain trait or wish over another, or asked something strangely specific such as (although not verbatim), “Do your muscles, on occasion, uncontrollably

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twitch for no obvious reason?” or “Do you sometimes feel closed off in large groups?” In my opinion, these questions were tailored to the temporal — “on occasion” and “sometimes”— in order to manipulate the otherwise aware and cerebral test taker’s impulsive line of reasoning, thus complicating the test for them, and instigating a more desperate want for results. I realized, in reverie, that even if they reversed the question’s direction, I would have probably answered the same exact way. To distance a question’s targeting through circumventive-speak, is, indeed, unethical, but brilliant all the same.

Yet when questions weren’t tethered to the temporal, they tended to be riddled with turgidity and structural mishaps to further confuse the reader, which

We sat patiently for about ten minutes and were then hailed by two austere figures, sharp black ties with golden knots plastered tightly to their necks. Sam was studied by an older fellow with protruding, circular frames, while my mostly unassuming advisor, Yakov, led me to his private office space in the back of the building.

He had cavernous dark brown eyes, a rugged jaw with granular stubble.

“Mr. Mace,” he said, then probing me with the conventional introductory questions — “How was your day?” “Where are you from?” Yakov, scattered, jumped quickly from question to question, emitting out the occasional oooo, the occasional ahh. His questions, rather abruptly, became more localized and intrusive, from how dry the air is near the Rockies to if I’m ever too depressed to get up in the morning.

The interrogation revisited some of the central themes of the exam, such as “Do you tend to be closed off?” and “How long have you been this way?” These questions might’ve been developed with reference to my exam results, but much more realistically, Yakov must’ve been trained to intuit general personality traits by observing me throughout the tour, and further by analyzing the first impression that I gave. Or, to be even more cynical, the evaluators might adhere to a mere laundry list of manipulative questions to pull out whenever convenient.

Even when I answered his questions contrary to his aim, when I pushed back against his claim that I was morbidly depressed, he persisted in using the test results to further his argument, a forceful gaslight, not with hopes to convert, but with hopes to transact.

Yes, I was under imperative to purchase a $25 book, and attend a $50 individual study session at the center

for a month or so —“You see, you need to be more outgoing (yet individual study), you need to be excited to meet people all the time,” he said. “One day you can be like me,” he went on, tapping on a frenetic chart illustrating my abysmal personality traits. “You just have to keep reading books, keep taking classes. It’s a long and difficult process, but one day you can be like me. Results through the roof—always happy.”

Of course, I didn’t purchase anything, but scheduled another meeting to talk about money, offering them my personal number as I left. They eventually called and left a message. A different evaluator reproachfully said, “What’s the story, friend?” To them, this was all a matter of business, of wrestling patronage from the fragile New Yorker and keeping it for life; now, after they slammed my self-esteem, and warned that I was hanging onto life by a tendril, I really wonder what their thoughts were when I never picked up.

The evaluators prey on the vulnerable, and fortunately I wasn’t able to be coaxed by them. I did learn a lot about the religion, though, and even had my ignorance checked. To my surprise — no, there isn’t an origin in the sensational or the occult, alien extremities toiling to hatch out of eggs, the human essence planted in martian soils. Still considerable, though, is the very real affront to medical research, particularly in the illiteracy towards the approach to mental health crises, trauma, drug rehabilitation, and, after 9/11, the gross and baseless championing of pseudoscience to combat toxic exposure.

And that was that, my stint with Scientology. Sam and I left, arm and arm, trailing home through the metropolitan night.

Contact contributing writer Austin Feuer at afeuer@oberlin.edu.

IF I.C.E. COMES TO CAMPUS

BY JAKE BERSTEIN EDITOR-IN-CHIEF local sheriffs. Trump is now bringing back a federal program known as 287(g) that uses state and local police to identify suspected undocumented immigrants.

The good news: dedicated staff at the college have been working hard to ensure the safety and privacy of our undocumented peers, by creating standard procedures, educating faculty, and preparing for legal action.

If ICE were to show up on campus, the first responders would be Safety and Security officers. The new Director of S&S, Mike Martinsen, has been developing a response with his security team in case this happens. “This is something I thought about a lot,” says Martinsen, “because I wanted to know if I would be interfering with official business by refusing to help.” While no one on campus can legally interfere with the work of ICE, Martinsen assures that he will go to great lengths to protect students from anything adverse that could happen to them.

So what would that look like?

Firstly, it means acting as a buffer between ICE and anyone else on campus — faculty, staff, and students. According to Martinsen, in the event of an ICE emergency, S&S would immediately contact the Dean of Students, the General Counsel, and any students who may be involved. From there, they would bring the ICE agents to the office of the General Counsel.

Donica Varner is the college’s interim Vice President and General Counsel. It’s her job to provide legal advice and support to the college in a way that, according to her, “pays tremendous respect to the mission of the College and its history and values.” At her prior institution, she was the lead attorney responsible for immigration compliance and had been working

with undocumented and DACA-related issues for seven years.

Varner’s job, in this case, would be to review any subpoenas or warrants given by ICE and to create a plan of action based on her legal interpretation of those documents.

U.S. Department of Education. FERPA allows the school to give students notice when information is requested of them by federal agents, but there are certain exceptions where law enforcement can tell the school not to disclose their search.

If ICE wants information from the college or to get into private spaces, they must comply by a lawful process.

“They’re going to need a subpoena or search warrant. They can’t just stand by waiting to see how many brown people walk by,” says Varner. Further, the college is bound by the Federal Family Educational Rights and Privacy Act (FERPA). This law protects the privacy of student educational records in all schools that receive funds from the

For those concerned about themselves or friends who may be at risk if ICE comes to campus, Varner has a simple message; “President Ambar and the senior leadership team are 100% supportive of [undocumented students] being here and are going to do everything lawful within our powers to allow them to successfully complete their degree program.” She added that she “understands how extremely scary this is for [undocumented students]

PHOTO BY JAKE BERSTEIN

It’s not likely that U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) will come to Oberlin’s campus anytime soon. We are a small liberal arts college in the middle of Ohio and, therefore, probably not a top priority for the Trump administration or ICE. But, we do have a community of undocumented students on a campus which has come out publicly as a “sanctuary campus.”

This doesn’t mean we need to be looking over our shoulders for ICE agents, but it does mean that procedures need to be put in place in the event that ICE does come to campus looking to make trouble.

For those who don’t know: ICE is a federal agency tasked with enforcing laws around border control, customs, and immigration in order to promote “homeland security and public safety.” According to the ICE website, the agency has more than 20,000 employees, with an annual budget of approximately $6 billion.

According to a New York Times article, in the first three months of Trump’s presidency, immigration related arrests have gone up by 38%.

From January 22nd to April 29th, ICE officers arrested 41,318 people, according to statistics released by ICE. These arrests have been made at personal homes in the early mornings, workplaces, and even courthouses.

These changes have come as Trump rescinded rules made by Obama, which prioritized the arrest of the most serious criminals, leaving other undocumented immigrants alone. According to the Times, more than half of these recent arrests were of immigrants who had committed no crime except for their being residents in the US. While this is happening nationally, locally, ICE is deputizing sheriffs from

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and their families,” and that there are people and resources which are here to support them in any way — financially, emotionally, or academically.

One such support person is Libni Lopez, the Student Life Program Coordinator for Undocumented Student Initiatives. He’s a licensed therapist and, while he is not working in that capacity at Oberlin, he recognises that this background has helped him in his supportive role for undocumented students. For Lopez, the best defense against ICE on campus is information.

That is why he has been informing students, staff, and faculty about the best procedures for protecting those who are undocumented. “The first thing people need to do is call Safety and Security” says Lopez. “The next thing you need to do is gather their information — what is their name, what is their agency,” he explains. When given a subpoena or a warrant, Lopez recommends using the phrase “I am not authorized to read any warrant or release information.” This legally disqualifies you from receiving anything they give you. ICE has to follow procedure just like any government agency, but Lopez fears that, “people in situations of high anxiety or pressure may feel like they have to provide information that they really don’t have to.” Lopez is trying to prepare students for such situations by giving them a simple procedure to follow.

Everyone I spoke with about this article agreed that it was unlikely that ICE was going to show up here anytime soon, but they also agreed that it was important to be prepared in case they do. According to the ICE website, the agency is targeting “illegal aliens with criminal records who pose a threat to public safety.” Yet, data from ICE show a 32.6% increase of arrests made by ICE in the first three weeks of Trump’s presidency. This is growing to include thousands of undocumented immigrants who have been otherwise law-abiding.

Contact Editor-In-Chief Jake Berstein at jberstei@oberlin.edu.

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PUERTO RICAN CRISIS HITS HOME

BY JUAN CONTRERAS CONTRIBUTING WRITER With Fall Break a few days away, many students are preparing to return to what they call home. For students from La Isla del Encanto, the small island of Puerto Rico, with a deep history of resistance and fortitude, returning for Fall Break is looking like a very unlikely option. In the past two weeks, the island’s resilience has been tested by a wave of unnatural-natural disasters that left many communities throughout the island in disarray. Hurricane Maria, a Category 5 storm with winds at speeds as high as 175 mph, tore through Puerto Rico and took with it homes, lives, and much of the island’s infrastructure.

To put Puerto Rico’s current situation into context, I am going to give you some numbers — look over them and think about them. Currently, only 45% of Puerto Ricans have access to clean drinking water, 51 of Puerto Rico’s 69 hospitals are open (with only 9 connected to an electric grid), 86% of cell towers are not functioning, around 50% of major roadways are still unusable, and every single municipality has urgently requested emergency supplies. Read that over again; think about it.

As Puerto Rico tries to recuperate from this disaster, city officials are seeking assistance from the United States. Hurricanes Irma and Maria have left Puerto Rico in a state of disaster, matched only by President Trump’s way of handling the situation on the island. Trump tweeted “they want everything to be done for them when it should be a community effort”. This crusty Cheeto believes that the 10,000 federal workers on the island will be the ones to save it.

While Trump tweets, the people of Puerto Rico are trying to survive the worst hurricane since 1928; the island is currently dealing with a limited

amount of supplies coming in, and an even more limited amount of people available to distribute these supplies.

To your everyday Oberlin College student, these issues may seem distant — they’re issues on an island far away from the flat town we find ourselves in. But we have to remember that there are students from Puerto Rico in our classes, in our dorms, and in our co-ops. Andrés González (he/him), a fourth-year Politics and Comparative Literature doublemajor, said “there has been too much on us as Puerto Ricans to tend to our own problems, and Oberlin’s administration has not done as much as sent an email expressing support for students, faculty, and staff with family on the island, of which there are many.” The Dean of Students’ office is notorious for their “days later response email” that points students, in this case primarily students of color, to places on campus that are understaffed by underrepresented individuals.

We know that simple emails don’t work, so what does support look like for students that are so deeply impacted by this disaster? ¡Presente!, Oberlin College’s Latinx Faculty and Staff organization, put together an event on September 22 in solidarity with Puerto Rico and Mexico. To Mobey Irizarry (they/them), a thirdyear TIMARA major, and more importantly, a Puerto Rican student, taking action manifested itself into a community dance benefit. The benefit

served both Puerto Rican and Mexican food, and featured Boricua and Chicanx DJs playing music for and from their people. Solidaridad y Baile: A Dance Benefit for Puerto Rico and Mexico, was held on September 30th and raised around $1,500 towards La Fundación Comunitaria de Puerto Rico and Topos de Tlatelolco. Events like Solidaridad y Baile may not have as large of an impact monetarily, but

“CURRENTLY, ONLY 45% OF PUERTO RICANS HAVE ACCESS TO CLEAN DRINKING WATER, 51 OF PUERTO RICO’S 69 HOSPITALS ARE OPEN, 86% OF CELL TOWERS ARE NOT FUNCTIONING, AROUND 50% OF MAJOR ROADWAYS ARE STILL UNUSABLE” they reassure students with family and friends affected that some Oberlin students care and are doing concrete things to make a difference.

Now, while many of us are ready to pack our bags for the trip home, some of our Puerto Rican friends are struggling to figure out what going home means for them.

Isabel Fernandez (she/her), a firstyear Voice Performance major in the Conservatory, notes that returning home to Puerto Rico isn’t a possibility anymore. Fernandez had already pur-

Continued from page 6. chased her flight for Fall Break, but is barred from going because of her home’s current condition. As her family in Puerto Rico is forced to deal with the awful aftermath of Maria, Fernandez has to work through midterms while figuring out her new Fall Break plans.

For Fernandez, dealing with the destruction is largely internal: she said that “every night, I get back to my dorm, and as I try to fall asleep, my thoughts are always in Puerto Rico, and I dream for my beautiful island’s recovery.”

To us at Oberlin, around 1,800 miles from Puerto Rico, the situation is visible only on a Facebook Newsfeed or Timeline: links to articles about and pictures of blocked roads, broken buildings, overstuffed shelters, and excessive flooding — just images on a screen speckled with reaction icons.

For Puerto Rican students, it’s seeing your favorite hangout space ruined, it’s seeing the park you had your first kiss in covered in toppled trees and shards of bark, it’s being unable to check in with family because of service that blinks in and out. Dealing with a lack of support from both an orange-skinned flake and our college’s administration makes these types of battles even harder, but Puerto Rico endures. Its people continuing to move forward, shouting “echa pa’lante.”

Contact contributing writer Juan Contreras at jcontreras@oberlin.edu.

BOARD OF TRUSTEES REJECTS STUDENT RESOLUTION

BY KAMERON DUNBAR STAFF WRITER

Last week, at their quarterly meeting, the Board of Trustees delivered another blow to the student body by rejecting Student Senate’s proposal for student representation on the Board.

In a press conference with various campus media representatives, Chairman of the Board of Trustees, Chris Canavan, and President of Oberlin College, Carmen Ambar, relayed news of the denial and offered reflections on the process. “This was a matter that was probably discussed more than any other matter yesterday [Friday] because it was discussed in committees and among the full board” said Canavan. “There was a resolution that was put forth; that resolution did not pass.”

Student Senate has championed this issue since the spring of 2016, articulating a need for student representation on the board in a variety of ways. The Board seemed to have picked up on the importance of representation in the eyes of students, establishing a “Student Trustee TaskForce” just last spring. The task-force, consisting of three Trustees and two students, delivered a resolution to the full Board which would have given students a seat at the committee-level of Board governance. A pressing issue for both students and the Board, it prompted significant internal discussion.

“There was a very robust debate.

People have very passionate feelings on all sides of this,” said Canavan. He referenced the Board’s rationale for discussion and decision-making, dividing the issue of student representatives on the Board into two thought categories. “I think we can divide the concept of student participation on the Board into two dimensions. One dimension has to do with whether or not we engage hard enough with students to understand student per-

spective on important matters. I think there’s a broadly-held sense that we could do a better job of understanding students’ perspectives on matters that are important to students.

If they’re important to students and important to Oberlin, they should be important to us.” He offered more depth into the second dimension, citing a need for the Board to have frank and honest discussion — “I think that what is more complicated for us as a board is to countenance the possibility of having the kind of open, candid con-

“‘THERE WAS A VERY ROBUST DEBATE. PEOPLE HAVE VERY PASSIONATE FEELINGS ON ALL SIDES OF THIS,’ SAID CANAVAN.” versation we need to have amongst ourselves the four times a year that we meet with others in that conversation. I think it’s simply human nature to change the way you have conversations with others depending on who’s in the room. I don’t think trustees are any different from anyone else in that respect. And so I think that’s the dimension that’s more complicated for us. And so what I want to do is I want to figure out how we can do the first better than we have now, so that we have a much clearer sense of how students feel about important matters. I think everyone recognizes that that’s an invaluable perspective on these matters.”

President Ambar added a reflection on creating opportunities for students to communicate with the Board. “I think about this as pathways to input. How can we find what those pathways look like? I think that what the Board is working towards is how to find the right pathway for students to have input. One of the issues for the Board is…this issue of its own governance. I was impressed with the board discussion around this topic. I think the passion was about how do we find a pathway to student input that might not look like students on the Board of Trustees.”

Ambar doubled down on that notion, arguing that “If I were a student, I’d be saying ‘Ok, maybe the board is not there yet. What other ways might I think we could have a stronger path to input?’”

Canavan also commented on students’ advocacy throughout the process. With praise, Canavan asserted that “Students have been incredibly engaged, incredibly thoughtful, and very collegial. I’m confident that even though you [students] would have preferred a different answer, you are resilient enough to take disappointment. I hope that we can continue working together to at least make some progress.”

Task-force member and College fourth-year Josh Koller was less sympathetic to the Board’s response, writing in an email to The Grape “The Board needs to embrace what makes Oberlin truly unique, and at the end of the day that is Oberlin’s students. The Board’s refusal to incorporate qualified members of one of Oberlin’s most important constituencies in Board committees shows yet again how out of touch they are.”

Contact staff writer Kameron Dunbar at kdunbar@oberlin.edu.

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THE DISABILITY SERVICES DEBACLE A TIMELINE, AS OF OCTOBER 13

October 2, 2017

BY GABE SCHNEIER PRODUCTION EDITOR

May 2014 Oberlin Disability Services (ODS) has three full-time staff members and 400 students registered.

May 2016 Jane Boomer publicly announces that she will take the buyout package offered to her, and plans to retire in December.

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July 1, 2016

November 2, 2016

July 1, 2017 ODS is comprised of one full-time staff member.

Student registration has climbed to around 700, or around 23% of the student body.

Meredith Raimondo becomes the Interim Vice President and Dean of Students.

Meredith Raimondo is announced as permanent Vice President and Dean of Students.

September 2016

August 28, 2017 September 23, 2017

Fall semester classes Meredith Raimondo begin. sends out email to ODS staff, asking that they “stop immediately any communication about current student and Isabella Moreno is hired families about staffing as Interim Director of shortages,” and claiming ODS. that “this is communicating a false perception of available support.”

There is no plan to replace Jane Boomer

January 2017

Isabella Moreno leaves, despite being scheduled to retire on October 31st. ODS has zero permanent, fulltime staff members.

The college hires two Raimondo’s confidential part-time staff members email is leaked and to begin work for ODS circulates among immediately. students on Facebook.

September 11, 2017

October 3-4, 2017

October 5, 2017

Emails from Meredith Raimondo go out to students, assuring them that a search has begun for a replacement and that steps are being taken to make resources available in the meantime.

A message from Isabella Moreno’s daughter circulates on Facebook, lamenting the circumstances of her leaving and asserting that she was being exploited and overworked by the college.

PHOTO BY CHARLIE RINEHART-JONES

KIPTON

SEMEN OR TOWN?

BY CHARLIE RINEHART-JONES CONTRIBUTING WRITER When I looked into the mystery of Kipton, the first search result that came up was from Urban Dictionary. Apparently, a Kipton is “the little dribble of semen that comes out of a woman’s vagina after sex.” While this was certainly a monumental discovery, I decided that I was going to have to refine my search. Only after searching for Kipton, Ohio was I able to find some really useful information.

“FIRSTLY, KIPTON ISN’T A TOWN AT ALL; IT’S A VILLAGE.” You may have never heard of Kipton, Ohio, but it might just become Oberlin students’ best new hangout spot. I had heard rumors of the place — people I spoke to described it as “bordering on nothing.” I asked a fellow student if they had heard of the town of Kipton, and they said they remembered a student mentioning that they had biked there once. I wondered what this town that students were going to was like, so I decided to hit the books.

Firstly, Kipton isn’t a town at all; it’s a village. This village has a population that has ranged between 240 and 250 people since 2010. However, Kipton is actually an important part of history. A famous train wreck occurred there, where two trains collided at full speed, killing nine people. The wreck in Kipton spurred regulations that governed the watches that conductors were using to keep time and make sure that two trains weren’t on the

same track at the same time. Anyway, a lot of the information that I could find on Kipton had to do with this, but I was also able to find more specific information on the town.

According to the 2010 census, 57% percent of the population of Kipton is under 40. Oftentimes, people see rural towns like Kipton and assume that the population skews older. People don’t imagine rural towns with few to no places of employment as having young people. However, another interesting thing that the census shows us about Kipton is that the average travel time to work is roughly 35 minutes per person. When we consider this number as an average, it is clear that residents of Kipton are driving quite a ways to work. So, while it may be easy to view the residents of Kipton as very

“WHEN I ASKED SOME TOWNSFOLK HOW TO GET THERE, THEY JUST SAID, “TAKE THE BIKE PATH.” different from those of Oberlin, Elyria, or even Cleveland, many of these people are likely working in those places.

I decided to find the fabled village of Kipton myself, but I knew that I would need help. I enlisted the assistance of two of the most important things in my life: Google Maps and Anna Polacek. I sought out Anna Polacek because of her experience biking around Oberlin, and I knew if anyone would be able to

help me get to Kipton it would be her.

We decided to bike there and figured out that it would take us about half an hour on two different bike paths to get there. When I asked some towns folk how to get there, they just said “take the bike path,” so we did. First, we took the bike path down near J-House all the way to the end and then turned onto the larger road towards Elyria.

We then got on the larger bike path and biked about twenty more minutes until we arrived in Kipton.

Kipton itself is really only one street. The street has a post office and a town center, which are actually both pretty nice. And all of the buildings on the street have a sort of charming, old brick building aesthetic going on.

However, two things about Kipton really stuck out to me. First, there is a small and beautiful community park.

Equipped with two swingsets, seesaws, and a play structure modeled after a pirate ship, the park would be an amazing asset to any community.

Frankly, I was surprised to see such a nice playground in such a small community, especially when there was no accompanying school nearby.

This park really added a lot of charm to the small community of Kipton. The second thing that really interested me about Kipton was the huge grain silos.

These silos were the centerpiece of the town, and it is easy to imagine that they were once the primary place of employment. I ended up leaving Kipton with an appreciation for the small town. While there aren’t any stores or anything to do there, I would highly recommend checking it out. Plus, I saw a chicken on the way back.

OCTOBER 13, 2017

9

UPON HUGH HEFNER’S DEATH

THE POLITICS OF PLAYBOY

BY MOLLY BRYSON COPY EDITOR Hugh Hefner’s death earlier this month thrust Playboy into the spotlight, prompting a reconsideration of the magazine’s controversiality, its politics, and its social-cultural influence. Hefner’s personal role in the franchise is no less contentious, considering his limbo-ing role between progressive avant-gardist and business tycoon.

Scrolling through my newsfeed following his passing, I came across a surprisingly mixed array of public reactions, ranging from saccharine sentiments (“RIP to a legend”), to sultry eulogies (photo booth pics of pouting girls in bunny ears), to hard-hitting criticisms (“Fuck Hugh Hefner”).

Since most of my Facebook friends fall between the ages of 15 and 25, I can’t imagine that their relationships with Playboy are all that informed or intimate. To be quite frank, my mental image of a Playboy reader is pretty much restricted to the tweed-jacket-clad, cigar-smokin’ middle-aged man.

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Why any of my peers would purchase and pick up a Playboy magazine — except maybe to indulge in some sort of dorky retro media fetish — is a mystery to me. We live in the age of free internet pornography,

“SEXUAL FREEDOM MEANS SOMETHING DIFFERENT TODAY THAN IT DID HALF A CENTURY AGO.” after all. It’s difficult to fathom how such intense opinions about Hefner were born amongst people of this demographic. Perhaps their social media laments are merely proclamations of a feigned popculture know-how — appeals to a hot-topic issue. Perhaps their tributes are the manifestation of

years of exposure to Victoria Secret models and sorority costume parties, their condemnations the effect of an applied collegiate feminist vocabulary — “sexist,” “appropriative,” “manipulative”.

Hefner produced the first issue of Playboy in 1953 from his South Side, Chicago apartment (as a native Chicagoan, I can attest to the humble nature of this beginning).

In the wake of World War II, Playboy was a colorful contradiction to “German oppression,” offering a spirited alternative to an otherwise tragedy-ridden Americana. Hefner’s embrace of sexuality and nudity was radical for his time. Playboy thrust sexy, explicit, powerful femininity into the spotlight, issuing a departure from the modest and subdued domesticity that had otherwise defined mid-century womanhood.

Hefner sought to make sex a normalized and accepted part of American discourse.

Feminist ridicule aside, we cannot deny that

Hefner’s sex-positivity was in fact productive, an initiative for more open discourse on sex politics and the value of sex education. In addition to promoting a kinkier normalcy, Hefner used Playboy as a platform to endorse reproductive, abortion, and gay rights. His progressive agenda extended to writers, artists, politicians, and other alternative and leftist public figures. He published, among others, Margaret Atwood, Vladimir Nabokov, and Martin Luther King Jr. He advocated for civil rights while segregation was still regularly institutionalized and enforced. In this sense, Hefner was not only the initiator of a sexual and political liberation; he was also the embodiment of “cool,” of avantgardism — a champion of radical art, literature, and media.

However, we cannot discuss Playboy without bringing up its feminist opposition. After all, the magazine is made entirely by and for men, and thus subjugates

Continued from page 3. women’s bodies to be regularly objectified, commodified, and consumed by the male gaze.

Playboy’s nude centerfolds portray women in the context of men’s fantasies — unrealistically curved, compressed, and stretched, in heels and corset-style lingerie.

In an archived NPR interview, Hefner claims that “the pin-up phenomenon is devoted to the girlnext-door….Nice girls like sex too,” — an appeal to feminist ideologies of inclusion, I assume, but a problematic appeal, nonetheless.

For Hefner to insist that he is the voice of underrepresented women, and for him to make them known simply by stripping them naked, is indicative of an integral conflict in the Playboy philosophy.

The problem, under Hefner’s commanding vision, is that women have no agency in their own liberation. Sure, Playboy illuminates the legitimacy of a fervent female sexuality, but only under the unspoken condition that their freedom is just another spectacle for men to derive pleasure by. We cannot forget, too, that Playboy is a multi-billion dollar business, and is in no way untouched by scandal and corruption. Hefner’s Playboy Mansion is infamous for hosting unethical, illegal, and drug-induced behavior; there are multiple accounts of women being raped and abused on the property—recall the Bill Cosby controversy just a few years ago. The existence of such cases point toward a seriously fucked-up power dynamic, one that glorifies the rich male celebrity and forgives his sexual misdemeanor in the name of his professional success, his cultural relevancy, and his affiliation with a popular men’s magazine.

Such incidents provoke the question of whether Hugh Hefner was a champion of women’s sexual liberation, or rather a commander

in their sexual submission and objectification. I spoke to a few of my friends about this dichotomy, and they contemplated the topic in a thoughtful, poignant, and overtly Oberlinian discourse. “Can you really separate the artist from the art?” asked Charlotte Price, analogizing Hefner as the corrupt artist to his progressive art piece (Playboy). “Is it worth supporting something that is self-proclaimed ‘progressive,’ if its inner-workings and leaders are abusive?” echoed Noa Gordon-Guterman.

Such questions are incredibly pertinent and germane, even if they are criticisms of an increasingly critical, liberal, and culturally-referential present.

Distinguishing between and critiquing subjectivities in public media is a recent phenomenon, an effect of modernism and reproducibility. The truth of the matter is, Playboy’s role in the 1950s is not necessarily comparable to its role in contemporary society; Hugh Hefner’s reputation cannot be linearly traced across the past six decades; sexual freedom means something different today than it did half a century ago. “It’s a double-sided issue,” affirms Price.

Sex, though, is never irrelevant. Let’s not forget The Grape’s very own nude centerfold and inclination towards the obscene — an allusion to Hefner’s Playboy, no doubt. And perhaps this is why so many of my peers, despite being a few years too young to belong to the Playboy generation, had such strong reactions to Hugh Hefner’s death. Whether historical, contemporaneous, or destructively controversial, we can’t miss an opportunity to talk about iconicism, much less sex.

Contact Copy Editor Molly Bryson at mbryson@oberlin.edu.

ETHICAL DILEMMAS IN THE AGE OF MASS MEDIA AND MASS SHOOTINGS

BY BEN SILVERMAN COPY EDITOR Many learned about the recent Vegas shooting while somewhat groggy, going about our day on the first Monday of October. On that morning, I woke up at 9am from an alarm I forgot to turn off the day before, and briefly saw a New York Times alert on my phone reading “20 dead and over 100 injured in Vegas.” I then quietly muttered “jeez” to myself, and laid my head down to get an extra hour of sleep before my 11am class.

Now, a few days since one of America’s largest mass shootings in history, I look at the news surrounding that weekend in Vegas and feel no less hazy than I did on that morning. It appears to me that the Vegas events have led our leading publications to abandon certain pretenses of serving the public good through reporting important information, especially in a time of tragedy, and moving instead towards pushing a decadent human interest narrative centered on a mass murderer.

In the days following the shooting, The New York Times published three separate front page articles about the contradictory “normal guy-ness” of the killer, and two more lead stories about his girlfriend being taken into questioning. Around the web, similar stories have propagated, especially at smaller news organizations, but even leading publications like CNN and the LA Times have doubled down on the killer’s-biography-asnews strategy.

This is where questions arise: Is it useful or ethical for mainstream outlets to publish several articles about the Vegas shooter’s relatively uneventful life? Is it truly people’s right to know, or has a low kind of guilty pleasure reading driven the demand for the reading and writing of these stories?

A 2016 paper presented at the

American Psychological Association pointed to “Media Contagion” as a significant factor in mass shootings, and called for media outlets to “deny mass shooters the fame they seek” in order to reduce rates of mass shootings. The study referenced the rise in mass shooters in the mid-1990s, correlating with the budding 24hour news business and the internet growing in public use: “Mass shootings are on the rise and so is media coverage of them” purports Jennifer B. Johnson of Western New Mexico University.

Johnson says that a “desire for fame”, is a common trait in the psychology of almost all mass shooters, and that previous surveys have shown that most shooters desired to emulate a previous mass shooter. Johnson uses these factors to posit that the visibility and attention garnered by mass shooters is an even “more powerful push toward violence than mental health status or even access to guns.”

Zeynep Tufekci, Professor of Sociology at UNC Chapel Hill, had similar things to say after one of the other largest shootings in American history took place in Orlando last year.

“It’s not naming it once or showing the picture once that’s the problem. It’s not like Voldemort...it’s the looping - the endless looping of the face and the name and the selfies and manifestos of these killers.” Tufekci also supports the “media contagion” idea, citing the increased suicide rates following media coverage of suicide as grounds, a phenomena that gave birth to the term “suicide clusters.”

However, there is also an impetus for news organizations to deeply psychoanalyze murderers in the interest of public safety. Mary Ellen O’Toole, a former senior FBI profiler and author of “The School Shooter: A Threat Assessment Perspective”, supports the idea that understanding a mass killer’s motives can help stop future attacks.

OCTOBER 13, 2017

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Continued from page 4.

O’Toole points out that the reporting on a killer’s life can be used to educate those looking to prevent people from becoming murderers, and help law enforcement officials better investigate current offenders. Moreover, a killer’s biographical details can also be used to inspire actual policy change. In the case of Dylan Roof’s murder of nine people at a historically-black church in Charleston, the details surrounding his upbringing on white supremacist ideology were used in campaigns across many states to take down monuments and public displays which had roots in the Confederacy.

We can see that in the coverage of the Vegas shooting, our indulgent style of media intake can result in real consequences, whether they be other

mass shootings or real social change. And so we face a dilemma: do we value our right to knowledge of these events in full, complete with juicy, biographical details about each mass murderer, with faith that this information will have a net positive effect? Or should news media be more frugal in their approach to reporting on mass murderers, as they are with prominent suicides, for fear of feeding into a cycle of violence?

Luckily, the practical solution to these concerns doesn’t need anything to be changed about the media. In fact, it’s one of the more positive things that comes out of our hodgepodge way of reporting on these events--the gun control debate. There is good evidence that laws regulating gun ownership and

use tends to quell mass shootings in other developed countries.

Still, the questions above are still worth asking since the ethics of journalism aren’t directly concerned with the protection of actual citizens’ lives as they are the best framing of reality. If we do end up getting significant gun control passed, will we point to the news stories about mass murderers as the catalysts? How much credit is our society, by way of our media, willing to ascribe to murderers as the movers of history?

Contact Copy Editor Ben Silverman at bsilverm@oberlin.edu.

PHOTO BY DANA BRANDES-SIMON

STAND OUTSIDE YOUR GROUND

VISITING A GUN STORE AFTER LAS VEGAS SHOOTING

BY DANA BRANDES-SIMON

OPINIONS EDITOR

The day after the October 1st shooting, I hopped in the car just after 4 p.m. and nervously imagined what a gun store would be like, with the intention of understanding a perspective outside of my own. Driving west, I had thirty minutes to come to terms with being inside of one branch of a franchise, Fin Feather Fur Outfitters, that has “Ohio’s largest selection of firearms, archery equipment, hunting and fishing gear for all seasons.”

Trying to set speculation aside, I entered Fin Feather Fur Outfitters, passing a bulletin board filled with fliers including “free women only classes,” “introduction to shotguns”, and a sign up for “gun raffle.” I walked around the store through the fishing and outdoors sections before gathering the courage and peace of mind to approach the rows of hunting rifles, assault rifles, pistols, and handguns.

When I asked the gun salesman behind the counter whether the day had been different due to the events in Las Vegas the night before, he replied by saying that the day had seemed pretty normal—acknowledging that they usually see a spike in sales after shootings.

It seemed like the people in the store and those inquiring about guns were going about their day as normally as students in Oberlin were continuing their homework—ignoring the news of “the deadliest mass shooting in modern U.S. history.”

However, when standing across from rows

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of guns the length of a stage—the gravity of this political moment felt surreal. If we had wanted to, we could have walked out of Fin Feather Fur Outfitters with an assault rifle after a simple background check, proof of residency, ID, and payment.

Given our residency in Ohio, a state with little to no restrictions on gun control, we’re in a unique geopolitical position to turn this tragic event into a turning point in gun legislation.

This sentiment of normalcy seemed to penetrate many on Oberlin’s campus as we disregarded the event in Las Vegas with the justification of “desensitization” to mass shootings.

Lefties citing desensitization may act as a façade—conscious or unconscious—of the underlying reason why our political group is not treating this shooting with the same level of backlash as we treated the 2016 shooting in Orlando at an LGBTQ nightclub or the 2015 shooting at a church in Charleston: identity bias.

Because many of us don’t identify with those who were most affected by the mass shooting in Las Vegas—a crowd of assumed politically conservative white folk—our empathy hits a brick wall.

The greater implications for this lack of empathy, engagement, and response with respect to this particular shooting is incredibly important to interrogate as young political voices in this country, and especially as residents in Ohio.

Of course, these historical incidences of extreme hate crimes in Orlando and Charleston are tragic in another dimension that deserve

special attention due to the specific violence against marginalized communities; however, the shooting in Las Vegas is a unique, strategic, political moment to pursue gun reform, even in a republican majority state and federal government.

If we acknowledge that white people have more power in our society, then we can also acknowledge that the deaths of 58 people and injuries of hundreds at a country music festival presents a unique moment. A moment in which overlapping identities of country music fans and members of the Republican Party who back the laws that enabled the shooting to occur are the ones being affected the most.

Therefore, empathy for the tragedy and deaths in Las Vegas on October 1st open up a space for gun owners and non gun owners, democrats and republicans, radicals and conservatives, to have common emotional ground on an incredibly frustrating and complex issue as we can all acknowledge the tragedy—now we just need to interrogate it.

Contact Opinions Editor Dana Brandes-Simon at dbrandes@oberlin.edu.

HOW TO ESCAPE OBERLIN

AN OVERVIEW OF MY FAVORITE OFF-CAMPUS DESINTATIONS

BY CASEY REDCAY ARTS AND CULTURE EDITOR

Grape columnist Anna Polacek and I at Country Skateland last semester

tower of Oberlin. For me, getting off campus is a way to temporarily leave behind the stresses of Oberlin life, and it lets me get to know the unfamiliar state of Ohio. So, in preparation for the impending Oberlin cabin-fever (if it hasn’t hit you yet), here is a list of some of my favorite off-campus escapes.

1. Country Skateland Technically, Country Skateland isn’t an escape from Oberlin – it’s in town, only a few minutes down the road from campus. It is, however, a fun and easy way to get out of the Oberlin bubble, especially if you are sick of being constantly surrounded by 18-22 year olds. When my friends and I went last semester, we were literally the only people skating over the age of 14. We might have stuck out, but it was a GREAT time. For a $4 skate rental fee, we got to relive our awkward middle school years and dance around on roller skates to the pop music we all secretly love.

2. Findley State Park Why doesn’t anyone talk about the beautiful state park that is only 20 minutes from campus??

To be honest, I only discovered

Findley recently, but I am already a committed fan. The park is HUGE; it has campsites, mountain biking trails, hiking trails, a big lake where you can rent boats in the summer, and a disc golf course. Sometimes what makes me miss home the most is Oberlin’s landscape—the long stretches of flat land and lack of an ocean can make me feel trapped. Findley’s large lake and wooded hills offer a perfect natural escape. Also, if you’re looking for a true overnight escape, Findley has great camping sites that I tried out a few weeks ago. If you read Anna Polacek’s Letter of Recommendation column, you already know how wonderful it was, but in case you haven’t, it was definitely a 10/10 experience.

3. Blue Sky Diner Do you love breakfast food? Are you sick of spending your whole morning trying to get into Feve brunch? Blue Sky is a restaurant in Amherst, about 14 minutes away, and it is the answer to all your problems. Their classic breakfast food is delicious and really cheap (my go-to meal is super filling AND less than $5). If you’re ever looking for a particularly Ohio-y experience, Blue Sky is the place; everyone there

PHOTOS BY CASEY REDCAY

Now that we are almost half-way through the semester, the truth is coming out; life in the Oberlin bubble can consume you fast. Once it set in that the vast majority of my time here is spent in a less-than 1-mile radius at the same handful of locations, I was desperate to leave campus. Rural Northeastern Ohio may not be the most exciting place to live, but that doesn’t mean you have to hide in the ivory

Caroline Spittel with some wildflowers we picked after a morning hike

is incredibly nice, and even their menu makes biblical references. The people there are so friendly that one time my friend ended up joining the table of an elderly woman who’d started a conversation with him. Go!!

4. Crocker Park Ok, obviously this is Oberlin and we all hate the suburbs and capitalism

OCTOBER 13, 2017

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PHOTO BY CASEY REDCAY

Continued from page 6.

Kaela Elias and Caroline Spittel enjoying a walk at Headlands Beach

and pretend to be from cities even when we aren’t. BUT if deep down you secretly miss the burbs (and materialism), I highly recommend the eeriest suburb I’ve ever come across: Crocker Park. I’ve tried and failed many times at describing why Crocker Park is so unsettling, so maybe you should just go see for yourself. To me it feels like some sort of movie-set, like everything there is actually made of cardboard and the people you are surrounded by are actually actors. Anyway, if you miss malltype stores and Trader Joe’s and crave an unsettling return to suburban life, give this a try.

5. Volunteers Not to be dramatic, but a good trip to Volunteers can change your life.

Volunteers is a huge thrift store in North Olmsted, a little more than 20 minutes away from campus. I wouldn’t really call this a true escape from Oberlin since I have almost always seen many other Oberlin students there. But regardless, finding new clothes that make you feel good can be a great way to take care of yourself, and Volunteers is usually very affordable and kinda like a treasure hunt.

6. Headlands Beach My friends and I took a trip to Headlands Beach on Labor Day. The state park is about an hour and 5

minutes away, right on Lake Erie. It’s definitely VERY concerning that the water was so contaminated that it was too hazardous to swim in that day, but at least the park is beautiful enough that our our beach day was still enjoyable without swimming. We took nice walks throughout the park and laid out in the sand, taking in sun and relaxing. My whole life I’ve always lived a few minutes away from the ocean, so there’s a special kind of comfort I feel being back in front of a big body of water. Overall, it was a really lovely and restorative day.

Contact Arts & Culture Editor Casey Redcay at credcay@oberlin.edu.

CYBORG RESEARCH FOR MY POLITICS PAPER

CHATROOM EPISODES: PART 1

BY CASPIAN ALAVI-FLINT CONTRIBUTING WRITER Two Weeks Ago, Julianne And I Began An Unconventional Project. We Registered Under My Name On A Cam Girl Website. Based On Texts Like The Cyborg Manifesto And ____ We Created A World Class Cyborg Dominatrix Profile Whose Principal Characteristics Were Middle Eastern, Femme, Goddess With Executive Control. “The computer is my tool for fabrication. My cyborg body is omnipotent.

I take a constructed approach to seduction, thus I am intangibly real.” Control Became The Fundamental Part Of Our Project. Anybody Who Chatted Us In Attempts To Make Us Submissive To Their Desires Was Ultimately Destroyed In A Wave Of Theoretical Jargon And Slander. At This Point In Time We Have Made Over $400 Dollars Sharing Videos Of Us Reading Our Selected Manifestos On Self Care, Cyborg Manifestations, And Technoscience. The Persona We Created Was In My Image, The Photos Are Mostly Of Me, But We Take Equal Credit For The Content We Generate. The Result Is Thus A Creature Who Blends Ideas Of Critical Feminist And Gender Studies Theorists, Personal Anecdotes From Myself And Julianne, And Attributes Of Learned Formulaic Linguistics Of The Dominatrix, Generating Thus the Ultimate Cyborg. The Following Piece Is A Documentation Of A Night Of Insomnia That Marked The Turning Point In My Investment In This Project.

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THE GRAPE

Episode 1: Four in the morning on a Monday. Room is flashing blue and yellow. Cop car has pulled someone over outside of our house. I can hear them quietly discussing the dilemma through the open window.

The cop’s silhouette is round and I think: he looks like a funny pages cartoon version of a cop. It’s A Wonder That Someone With Such A Shape Could Exist Off The Page.

At this late hour I am fashioning a digital outfit.

My laptop is on my stomach and I am scrolling through chatrooms and forums looking for information on IP address hacking. I am trying to use the internet to be intelligent tonight without having to do anything. The little pile of orange peels on my dresser look like a curled up body.

Tonight on the chat website I made $50 schooling the blackmailer fiend, OWNME778, on the importance of authenticity. I explained that blackmail content is post-authentic these days, A Term I’ve Heard Julianne Use To Describe Her Interests.

He says he listens to a lot of NPR and I wonder if he listens to the same podcasts I do. It makes me feel weird to think of him as an actual person. I like the podcasts that make me feel like an economist.

All The Numbers And Rationales For Economic Behavioral Patterns Make Me Feel Foolishly Smart.

I wear my glasses when listening to those, even when I listen to Ponzi Supernova in the shower.

I can’t locate the soap when they fog over. I initiate the blue tile excavation process.

I am trying to convince this guy online that I have control over his meta-data and so I keep copy and pasting random sequences of number I find in the IP address hacking chatrooms. I have narrowed down his location to California, Long beach perhaps, San Clemente. My research is totally and completely unfounded but I have just typed a long list of numbers and symbols arbitrarily and he is feeling nervous. I think I am being convincing. The porch light randomly turns on (the sensor is broken) and my room looks sickly. Last week I installed a lime green porch light to ward off bugs. They still come in though. I am covered in bites all the time. I walk around with one hand stuck down my sock.

Continued from page 7.

OWNME778: You SERIOUSLY hav my IP address?

CYBORG: You’re in a state of delusion if you think you can tell me how to conduct my research. ever heard of net-stat? p.p1 {margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; color: #454545} I will use DOS in lieu of online software to locate chat room IP address directly from my terminal. this means I can tell you are on the west coast OWNME778: like what wold u REALLY need to find the info? what would be like the nail in my coffin?

CYBORG: I Have Constructed A Manifesto For Our Situation OWNME778 is typing.

A man outside the window stoops down to pick up a small metal disk. He observes it for a moment, and then puts it back. He continues forward, disappointed. I can’t imagine what he thought it might have been. Our eyes are bad at this hour. In the dark, all shiny materials and substances have a luster.

New Message request Tommy99999XD: hey baby CYBORG: Hello.

Tommy99999XD: wat r u up to???

CYBORG: Doing My Ritualistic Reading On Disorientation Tommy99999XD: You’re mind turns me on. I want 2 worship it CYBORG: Worship of a false image, created by a concuss body, or group of conciseness bodies by constructing qualities of separate systems to make a whole, is worship of the fable. It is intangible yet it is there and it has rules of engagement and directive that are synonymous with reality. Cyborg worship requires that you believe wholeheartedly that the image you see is real, even though you know it is only a product of fabrication.

Tommy99999XD: ur so hot ;) J

The men are mining the internet for goods trying to locate some reality in a mess of fabulation and for some reason they are turned on by CYBORG. They are the immobile observer in the “City of Cairo Panorama.” “The Visitor standing on the circular platform is in the very center of the locality represented, as real to the eye as if he were on the spot itself,” (Barak, 32). However, the panorama removes the viewer’s’ ability to look around them, or the need to even move. The information streams in from all angles and one only need stare at a fixed point, a flat screen or surface, to experience the falsified real, “enabling ‘incorporation of an immobile observer into a mechanical apparatus and a subjection to a redesigned temporal unfolding of optical experience” (33). The viewer, as kindly put by Barak, can “enjoy an imaginary tour without stirring out of his chair,” (33).

The Cyborg acts as the agent and for the construction of the Panorama show. The Cyborg’s components — the carefully curated and constructed photos, the tasteful responses that are perfectly aligned with the desires of the immobile

observer but hold within them the mechanics of fabulations, the formulas by which she goes about her communication — are all constructed components that mimic reality, but create by way of their association with each other, the image in the mind of the immobile observer, of the perfect woman for their tastes. They begin to confuse reality with the constructed fable. I can’t believe this is real.

They become so enmeshed in the Panorama that even when the Cyborg says, “Does this type of communication not seem weird to you? It is all made up, I am a fiction” They cannot see the distinction; they think it is all part of the act. They say things like “I see now how much SMARTER you are than me” and “You’re intellect intrigues me.” But I am just speaking in recitation! I think as I trip over a shoe on my way the kitchen to refill my cup with water. I try and squeeze an old and dried lemon slice into my water. How long has it been in there? I hear blips and bloops of new messages from the other room.

The Cyborg becomes smarter over time. She starts to realize that the illusion is all that matters, not the outcome. The outcome is a consequence of the Illusion.

I fall asleep holding a tiny orange and wake up with it smoothed under my pillow like a gift from the tooth fairy. She’ll be coming soon because I forgot to brush my teeth last night. I feel like I have been sucking on a penny. I take a long, silent shower. I clean up the orange remnants. I put my sheets in the washing machine and stand by the rumbling metal box. I look into the kitchen and think, this kitchen is like a hallway. My housemate was right, we need more hallways in this house. We only have one, besides the kitchen if you want to count that.

I check my computer,

CHRIS1542: Can I kiss your feet?

CYBORG: What if life was defined by agency, and agency is defined by ability to enact change, regardless of consciousness. To be alive is then to be potentially active, to be embedded with the facets of production.

CHRIS1542: Tell me more, my goddess.

Ben walks in and asks if I want soup for dinner.

It’s too early in the day to tell if I will want soup for dinner but I say yes anyway. A moth speeds past his ear and b-lines straight for the lamp. What are you doing? The moth lands on my bedside reading book. It inches its behind onto a pen I received for my birthday. It’s taking a rest from a long night’s work of seeking the brightest lights.

I close my laptop and reaffirm myself that I have put my investigations to good use. I validate myself.

I have made great headway in my life. For hours I devoted myself to the creation of my own fiction, ate nothing but oranges and wrote out dark manifestos about knowledge production and dissemination.

I feel wildly out of control, like that rogue tire after an accident, the one that detaches from the car and goes sailing down the highway without the rest of its frame. I put CYBORG to sleep and put on white socks and sneakers and pull my hair into a low bun. I eat more oatmeal because that’s all we have here and I write a note in my phone to reference later: 1.

Good research for your politics paper.

Tommy99999XD: good morning, CYBORG: Yes, It Is A Good Morning, Slave.

Tommy99999XD: may I give you money mistressss?

CYBORG: Yes. But Only If You Listen To My Manifesto.

CYGORG: And Work On Your Grammar Plz. New Message Request New Message Request New Message Request

I started these chats only a week ago and yet they have already started to bridge my realities. I sit around with a bowl of oatmeal and copy and paste parts of my essays into chats while I watch Planet Earth with Davis and Ben. Strange to think someone is aroused by actor network theory and copy and paste self care rituals. Strange to think that I am being paid to just type up a thesis.

CHRIS1542: I want to bow down to you

CHATS PROVIDED BY JULIANNE HUSSMAN AND CASPIAN ALAVI-FLINT

CYBORG:Let me finish my breakfast first.

OCTOBER 13, 2017

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PHOTO PROVIDED BY PJ MCCORMICK

FRANKIE COSMOS

LIVE REVIEW!

BY PJ MCCORMICK CONTRIBUTING WRITER

Mamma Mia is so sad,” said Greta Kline, a.k.a. frontwoman of NYC-based indie group Frankie Cosmos, in front of a live audience at Mahall’s in Cleveland last Monday. “The thing that I really love about it, and the reason it’s so sad, is that if you listen you can tell that the speaker doesn’t really know how terrible her relationship is.”

It was hard to know how to react in the moment (the crowd either awwing or tittering awkwardly), but she’s actually 100% right. When’s the last time you looked at the first verse to Mamma Mia? It’s so sad: I been cheated by you since you know when So I made up my mind, it must come to an end Look at me now, will I ever learn?

I don’t know how but I suddenly lose control There’s a fire within my soul

COMIC BY ALEX SCHEITINGER

This tangent came courtesy of an impromptu cover of the 1975 ABBA classic in the middle of Frankie’s own song “What If,” off of her most recent project, 2016’s Next Thing. The riff spoke largely to the tone of the night, however, as a seemingly sad Kline tore through 15 songs in 45 minutes.

The band’s mood notwithstanding, they sounded really great. Emerging from behind the merch table, they began their set with a buoyant “On The Lips,” and followed it with a bunch of cuts from Next Thing, closing later with “My I Love You” from 2014’s Zentropy. Following rumors of Kline’s separation from longtime boyfriend Aaron Maine of Porches, Frankie’s countless songs about their relationship take on a new emotional resonance.

It’s conjecture, of course, to say that Greta’s disconnect stemmed solely from her split, but it’s hard not to let one’s mind wander that way amidst the countless melancholy songs of inconsiderate

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partners and lost love. “Is It Possible/Sleep Song” hit particularly hard with its scathing closing lines “I guess I just make myself the victim like you said / That’s why when you treat me shitty you get mad.”

[A brief aside: Like plenty of Oberlin students, I am active on Tinder. If you are familiar with Tinder, you know that the point of the app is to put you in contact with people you don’t know. Probably my least favorite part of the Frankie Cosmos show on Monday was running into a stranger who recognized me from Tinder and proceeded to stand next to me and my friend Charlie the whole time.]

Having now attended Frankie Cosmos shows with SO’s, friends, and a person who recognized me from Tinder and asked if my

“FRANKIE’S SOUND IS SO STEEPED IN TEENAGEHOOD, IT WAS STRANGE TO CONSIDER HOW SHE’S PAST IT.” name was PJ in front of their friends, I can state firmly that the first two are far preferable to the latter. No harm, no foul though. I wasn’t mad or anything. I’m just no good at small talk and didn’t want to make out at a concert. Love just wasn’t in the air that night.

Frontwoman of Frankie Cosmos, Greta Kline, during their performance at Mahall’s Lanes.

Frankie seemed sad, and it seemed pretty hard to make small talk under those circumstances.

On stage on Monday, Kline reminisced about the first time she’d played at Mahall’s, when she was 18 years old. Suprising! That made me realize the median age of me and my companion (Grape contributor Charlie Rienhart-Jones) was (and is!)

18.5 years old. Kline went on to say that she’d played there every year since, counting up to her current age, 23. “I’m so old, sooo old.” She seemed really bummed out.

Frankie’s sound is so steeped in teenagehood, it was strange to consider how she’s past it. Not that 23 is all that old in the grand scheme of things — Drake is 30! Weird right? Ultimately though, it was sort of sweet to feel like the audience was growing older with Frankie.

Kline took a moment to welcome her tourmates (Ian Sweet and Nice Try!) up to sing rounds in the breakdown of an old Bandcamp song of hers, “Being Alive.” Oscillating between raucous punk and slow, simple guitar balladry, Frankie Cosmos reminded herself, her contemporaries, and her audience: “being alive matters quite a bit, even when you feel like shit. Being alive!”

DRINK DRANK DRUNK THE BOUGIE-ASS BASIL MOJITO

BY SYD GARVIS COLUMNIST

INGREDIENTS: • 1 tbsp white sugar • 2 sprigs of mint • 2 sprigs of basil • 3 oz soda water/club soda STEPS: Mix your sugar, lime juice, mint and basil leaves in a glass. Muddle (the bougie word for smoosh down with the handle end of a wooden spoon) these ingredients together. As you pour in your shot of rum, stir muddled ingredients to make sure sugar is dissolved completely. Add your club soda and place a quartered lime on the rim.

For increased bougie-ness: muddle in another fruit like blackberries or cucumber!

My friend Suze and I had this idea that to get to know Buenos Aires, we would use the “Bars & Clubs” pages in our Lonely Planet guide as a checklist for when we went out. It took us to some really cool places, from a café-by-day, speakeasy-by-night,

• 1 shot (1.5 oz) of white rum • ½ (0.5 oz) shot of lime juice • Lime, quartered

to a shots bar with a drink called the Pamela Anderson, and finally to an old mansion-turned-bar-andrestaurant that served this bougie ass basil mojito.

The place was pretty empty when we arrived, which was during that awkward time between late Argentinian dinner and even later Argentinian nightlife.

We ordered the basil mojito — apparently the drink that the mansion bar was known for — and stuck out like sore thumbs as we stubbornly continued to speak English to each other. Basically, as we drank we talked about how cool the bar was from one vantage point, then get another drink and move to a different table for a new perspective. Our conversation was a list of hypotheticals as we took in everything about the place.

“If we were bar owners, we would live on the top floor of the mansion and simply walk downstairs whenever we wanted a mojito and some company in a lowly lit corner.” “If we worked here, we would make all sorts of mojitos, not just basil ones.” “If we ran this place, live classical music with a beat behind it would be playing as we walked down the massive concrete steps into the garden.”

I wouldn’t describe it as a crazy night by any means. By the end, we had had a nice tipsy conversation with the cute bartender, who probably only started talking to us so he could ask us to leave. Nevertheless, the day I can afford to get really drunk on basil mojitos from a mansion bar is the day my Oberlin degree will have officially been worth it.

Contact mixologist Syd Garvis at sgarvis@oberlin.edu.

ART BY SYD GARVIS

OCTOBER 13, 2017

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LETTER OF RECOMMENDATION WILDER BOWL ON AN UNUSUALLY SUNNY DAY

BY ANNA POLACEK COLUMNIST I don’t know what it is about Mudd, but being in there for too long just makes me sad. For that reason, during study hours, you can almost always find me in Wilder Bowl. Just look for a small blonde between 11 a.m. and 5 p.m., doing homework or hanging out. People always ask me how I spend so much time there, and I don’t know, I guess I need some D in my life and that’s the only way I’m willing to get it. Shoutout to my fellow Seasonal Affective Disorder kids.

But this is not a recommendation for Wilder Bowl in general. No, this is a recommendation for Wilder Bowl on an unusually sunny day. I’m talking about a day that is preceded by cloudy days, just when everyone thinks the cold is finally setting in, and — bam! We’re saved by a day of sunlight and warmth.

It’s usually on these days that everyone emerges and basks in the sun on Wilder Bowl together. If that day happens to fall on a Friday, or maybe on April 20th, then wow.

A truly blessed day. You can really feel how much happier and care-free everyone is, as if the Oberlin depression cloud had magically been lifted. It’s exactly how 10th grade me pictured college to be: people throwing frisbees, smoking weed, drinking beer, chilling on the grass. All that classic college shit.

With fall break already upon us, winter is fast-approaching. Make sure to get the F out there, because these moments on Wilder Bowl are limited.

WOBC SPOTLIGHT

ART BY ANNA POLACEK

OC UNDERGROUND

BY ELIANA CARTER CONTRIBUTING WRITER Second-years Miyah Byers and Jaris Owens’ new radio show explores Blackness in all its forms: music, culture, love and beyond.

Their show, which serves as a space and source of healing for Black people on campus and the wider Oberlin community, features interviews of both college members and community affiliates.

Past guests include poet, activist, Africana liaison, and Office of Religious and Spiritual Life affiliate Meeko Israel, as well as fourth and fifth year

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THE GRAPE

Oberlin students. Their song choices, which broach multiple genres such as hip-hop, jazz, R&B, funk and blues, are then tailored to themes brought up in those interviews. Israel’s interview, for example, brought up themes of being a Black creative working under the white gaze, self-affirmation, the power of the work song and more.

“We are taking back our narratives,” says Miyah. “We don’t define Blackness, but rather let it define itself, as the diaspora is deep, vast, and can-

not be encapsulated by one kind of Black person.

OC Underground is about revealing truth, finding healing, and fostering Black love and joy.”

Their show “OC Underground” airs Saturdays at 11 a.m. on WOBC. Tune in.

Email Miyah and Jaris at ocunderground17@gmail.com with questions, comments or suggestions.

LOCAL WOMAN TOUTS NEW PARTY ON WOODLAND METHOD OF CURING CELIAC EVACUATED AFTER WHITE DISEASE, CLAIMS PATIENTS BOY FINDS AUX CORD MUST SIMPLY “ACCEPT BREAD INTO YOUR MIND,”

BY THE FOOL BAD HABITS WRITER

BY SAM SCHUMAN BAD HABITS WRITER DYE LECTURE HALL—Oberlin resident Alice Norberg has recently been seen around town promoting her new seminar “You Can Beat Gluten! 5 Easy Steps to Overcoming Your Celiac Disease”.

“I have a lot of friends who say they can’t eat gluten because of their medical condition, but I think a lot of the problem is all in their heads.” said Norberg, who obtained a bachelor’s degree in sports management from Phoenix University.

She reached her radical conclusion after over 2 hours of exhaustive Google searches.

Norberg’s seminar, which is 9 hours long, teaches attendees that Celiac Disease is a condition of the mind, rather than of the body. If victims just learn to mentally acclimate themselves to gluten products, they should have no problem digesting them, says Norbert. Her patented tactics include intensely visualizing the consumption of pasta as well as sleeping on a mattress of whole-grain bread for extended periods of time. Additionally, her experimental techniques include injecting wheat germ directly into the brains of seminar

Continued on next page.

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116 WOODLAND STREET—An otherwise typical Friday night of Oberlin parties was interrupted when a white freshman with poor taste in music found the aux cord. The incident quickly escalated with protests from partygoers, before police were summoned to intervene. Police, unsuccessful in pausing the “Turn-Up Party Playlist,” decided to shut down the event to prevent further harm from the poorly-curated list.

The following day, Oberlin Police Department Lieutenant Michael D. McCloskey issued a statement regarding the incident, calling the playlist “a danger to public safety” and “disturbingly wack.” A police report also noted that many songs on queue displayed unsafe levels of whiteness and entitlement, with traces of meme rap in between.

First-year class dean Monique Burgdorf also became involved, after a group of the party saboteur’s friends appealed to the dean for help. “After hours of review and deliberation,” Dean Burgdorf wrote in an email, sent Sunday morning, “the playlist was indeed toxic.” He elaborated: “More so, it demonstrated plebeian taste.” Dean of Community Life Shozo Kawaguchi supported these remarks. “Even a Juicy J pandora station would have been a less harmful choice than this,” he said. Dean Kawaguchi also announced a temporary campus-wide ban on listening of “frat rap” inside college buildings, including artists such as Lil Dicky and Hoodie Allen.

Other campus bodies and organizations weighed in. “Many lives were clearly endangered,” said John Harshbarger, director of the Counseling Center, “when Ignition (Remix) was followed up with a Hoodie Allen song. Most partygoers are not mentally prepared for the sudden drop in quality.” The Counseling Center recommended any students suffering mental distress from the chain of events were welcome to schedule an appointment.

The student organization O-Hop issued a statement of condemnation upon the events that transpired. “O-Hop in no way endorses, supports, or acknowledges the music played after the transfer in aux cord ownership as hip hop. We only support the enjoyment of Riff Raff’s discography in a purely ironic manner,” the statement read. O-Hop has also declared plans to host a series of training sessions on appropriate, “no weak shit” party hip-hop. “Actual bangers only,” said an O-Hop member, “Plus it’ll count as an OSCA privilege and oppression training.”

OCTOBER 13, 2017

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Continued from page 12.

Word of the Day: Dankrupt (adjective)

The state of being completely bereft of marijuana (see: kushed out) “Shit man we just smoked my last doink, now I’m totally dankrupt!”

PROPAGANDA BY ISABEL KLEIN

participants. In addition to its $600 fee, the seminar requires attendees to sign a contract promising not to disclose to the FDA any part of the program.

Although various local organizations, including Oberlin’s own Student Health Services, have denounced the seminar as “dangerously unscientific” and “fucking wack,” Norberg’s program is not without its acolytes.

“I know my doctor told me Celiac Disease is a hereditary autoimmune condition or whatever, but I don’t understand what any of those words mean, so I guess it makes sense that I can beat this with just my mind,” said resident Joseph Mendelson. “I mean, I was sad once but then I just took a hike and felt better, so it’s kind of the same thing, right?”

Mendelson professed to having resumed his consumption of gluten, and conceded that, although his bowels are on fire like never before, he was informed that this too, is simply in his head.

At press time, Norberg was overheard in her physician’s office explaining to a woman with 3 degrees and 20 years of medical experience that vaccines were a weapon used by Big Pharma to control the minds of unsuspecting children, and she would prefer to inoculate her children by injecting them directly with the Black Plague.

10 SIGNS THAT YOUR ROOMMATE MIGHT BE A COMMUNIST

BY SAM SCHUMAN BAD HABITS WRITER

1. They smugly say “to each according to his need” as they 6. They’ve wondered aloud if it’s possible to do an individual take the last beer from the fridge. major in “destroying the bourgeois.”

2. They refuse to use pronouns and call everyone “comrade” 7. They’re constantly scared of being hurt by invisible hands. instead.

8. Because religion is the opiate of the masses, they’ve 3. Their favorite proverb is “When all you have is a hammer switched to using actual opium. and sickle, every problem starts to look like an oppressed proletariat.”

9. For the same reason, they refuse to attend concerts at Finney Chapel.

4. Last Halloween they draped themselves in a red sheet and called themselves “the spectre haunting Europe.”

10. Nothing turns them on more than hearing “collectivize my capital, daddy.”

5. In an attempt to abolish private property, they’ve taken over your side of the room.

Sam still isn’t over the fact that his admission to Reed was rescinded after it was revealed that he had completed their application completely sober.

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BAD HABITS TRYS: 14-DAY PBR CLEANSE

BY THE FOOL BAD HABITS WRITER 10 days. A crashed 1995 Honda Del Sol. $3574 made from buying and selling ProMedica stocks. A bloody glove and a dented rototiller left inside the Hark compost bin. Last issue’s cocaine cleanse was by all accounts a smashing success.

This time, we take on the studentdesigned, never-completed, two-week Pabst Blue Ribbon cleanse. Expect your aunt to tell you about this in 7 months after she sees it on Dr. Oz. The Essentials: +Two 30-packs of PBR +Seven cans of alphabet soup +20 square feet of soundproof foam +Three 160 mL bottles of WWI-era German shell-shock syrup +One copy of the King James Bible The Recipe (Scientifically Unverifiable): Week 1, Breakfast: 1 can of PBR, poured through the pages of a King James Bible to filter out the toxins and get that subtle, shitty flavor PBR is known for. Forego any breakfast items aside from fried noodles and citrus fruits.

The Regiment: Week 1, Lunch: After each breakfast, pour another can of PBR through a homemade foam filter. Lay out foam in warm, sunlit location. Squeeze PBR remnants out during lunchtime. Normal foodstuffs allowed.

Week 1, Dinner: Cook alphabet soup with PBR as broth. This step is critical to unlocking the creative potential of the beer.

Week 2, Lunch: Two cans of PBR, filtered King James-style.

Week 2, Dinner: Two cans of PBR and two teaspoons of shell-shock syrup. This allows the human body to stay energized the entire day so the beer can directly interface with the mind.

The Findings: Day 1: Increased feelings of self-loathing, gastric tension.

Day 3: Low blood pressure and high desire to play devil’s advocate in class.

Advocated for the reformation of a central Yugoslavian state.

Nights 5 and 6: Recurring nightmares of 3-foot-tall beer cans beating me with pipes. I woke up covered in bruises.

Day 7: Feve brunch cheat day wasted.

Ability to taste and differentiate between trace pesticides gained.

Day 8: Color-receptors began undergoing significant change - primarily, the inability to see green.

Night 9: Able to master complex martial arts techniques through purely visual means. Case in point, I roundhouse kicked my RA with perfect precision. On a different note, my room inspection was postponed.

Day 10: Spit can dissolve through most ferrous metals at a rate of 2 inches per 5 seconds. Grip strength has increased to some number between 2200 and 2300 PSI. Unable to see the color red.

Day 11: The Police visited my room. Not the Oberlin police, but the 80s reggaeinspired new wave band. Sting said I was their collective son and thus, none of them would ever have me for two Christmases in a row. This may have been a hallucination.

Night 12: Sleeping horizontally now hurts my brain. I have begun to curl up vertically inside the community fridge.

My circulatory system has accepted the temperature change.

Day 13: Unplanned trip to Milwaukee to see the holy burial site of legendary brewer Frederick Pabst. Arrested for exhuming his corpse.

Day 14: I can feel emotion and memory through direct contact with inanimate objects. I cannot bring myself to consume the final cans. I know an eternal sadness will overwhelm me if I do.

The Verdict: There are better ways to fail a sociology midterm.

Born in 1996, The Fool might just be the oldest member of the Bad Habits Writing Team. He resides in the catacombs under Mudd and only emerges to steal pastries from Azariah’s.

OCTOBER 13, 2017

23

HOROSCOPES

FOR THE WEEK OF OCTOBER. 13-27, 2017

BY LAUREL KIRTZ LOCAL ASTROLOGIST ARIES: I know. Shit’s been weird. Like it seems good, but then, like, its not, and then it is again, and then it isn’t.

Don’t worry, after May of next year it will totally stop being that way. But until this December, life and all types of relationships could be semi-torture (and a little bit until May). But the wheel of fortune always turns and think of this current torture as investment in a future that’ll be opposite of torture.

TAURUS: Not too much of a rocky road lately! And admit it, you like it. Yeah, ups and downs can help ya “feel alive,” but you end up hating it. And since things are going more smoothly, how ‘bout

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you climb up that Maslow Hierarchy of Needs!? What else is building a strong foundation for?

GEMINI: Good work. Very good work.

Nothing is a problem right now. Except for some slight boredom, which surprisingly isn’t as much of a problem as it normally is for you. But in case it is, I have a solution: why not do that Halloween costume idea you’ve been wanting to do FOR YEARS? You’re welcome.

CANCER: The full moon on the 5th was some deep shit. Maybe it even took several days for the depth to come to

consciousness, but overall this past full moon should feel empowering. So roll with that. Cause then you can keep on rolling with the fact that Jupiter is going really make your life nicer over the next year. You deserve it, you hugger you.

decade + is moving onto Capricorn.

Don’t feel bad! Cause it won’t even be crappy for them. But actually, who do you feel bad for? Cause now, and over the next year, you’re gonna wanna ease some of that tension, and helping others is a great way to do it.

LEO: Life is like a garden. Sometimes things grow well, and sometimes they kick it. Plants can just up and kick it cause of WHO KNOWS WHY. Growing just fine for years and then NO, DEAD. Remember this. It’s beyond your control; all you can do Leo, is nurture what you can, when you can, and let go of expectations.

CAPRICORN: Let’s talk about it. I know! For real. Relationships have been a little wonky but really I’m just scratching the surface. Cause WHO CARES about a little wonkiness, for you are on the brink of an entirely new life. It might take years to manifest, but a social overhaul is happening now, so I expect to see you at the upcoming holiday gatherings. Buy some new shoes.

VIRGO: How’s that love life going?

Better? I know it is. Not perfect, but just think back to a year ago. Hell, it’s better than just a few months ago.

But sadly, some self-sacrificing is still called for until mid-April 2018, and its weird that you have to keep humbling yourself, but I swear you are learning something from all this damn shit.

Just remember YOU ARE HOT and stop worrying.

AQUARIUS: You got some goals?

Goals? I bet you do. KEEP GOING. People won’t always understand what your aim is, but when do people ever understand you? So just keep doing you. On the 15th and 19th it’ll be challenging, so focus a little on those negotiation skills while you keep doing you.

LIBRA: Hap B. October’s prob been a little rough the same way its been for Aries, but not quite as bad. A few surprises here and there, so expect the unexpected, and when surprises occur you can be like “I was ready for that,” and feel good even if the surprise kinda sucks. Besides, yer on fire after the 22nd, so Yeah!

PISCES: Like Cancer and Scorpio, you are in for a good 2018. Isn’t that nice?

Cause of this, you can think about new shit! Like new anything? Just pick a desired pursuit and start pursuing.

Yer kinda hot right now too. 24th will be weird, but in the context of it all, this weirdness will only have a positive impact.

SCORPIO: Get ready to have more luck than your sign has had since Grandmaster Flash wrote a song about you. Jupiter’s back in your lair, and the Sun and Mercury are popping by for a threesome. Just please, don’t abuse your luck, cause YOU KNOW it backfires. The 24th is gonna be weird, but in a good way.

Astrologer, creative life-coach, and user of popular oracle tools such as tarot cards and the i-ching. You may have seen the Loracle around town dressed as Lucy from Charlie Brown providing advice for a mere 5 cents.

She is now at The Grape, translating the whispers of angels into typed copy for your benefit.

SAGITTARIUS: Ah, reprieve shall come, don’t worry. Just a few more months... but seriously, all the crap you’ve been handed over the last

Email questions for which you seek advice to The Grape at thegrape@oberlin.edu with subject line “LORACLE.”

POTTY MOUTHS: THE THRONES OF MUDD

BACK TO THE BASICS

BY PLUSHTOY666 BAD HABITS WRITER Last week on Potty Mouths, we explored the newest additions to Oberlin’s public fecal repositories.

(You could think of them collectively as the shithub.) To contextualize this brave new world, we’ve decided to go back to the basics—to the landed aristocracy of bathrooms, porcelain sagging beneath the historical memory of decades—the seats of the first children, monument to all of our successes and failures: the thones of mudd.

All characters and events in this piece are entirely fictional, and any perceived resemblances to real individuals are coincidental.

PHOTO BY ISABEL KLEIN

Oberlin, OH - 9:30 AM, alarm. 9:45, Science Cart coffee. 10 A.M. class, 10:50 escape. 10:55, walk into Mudd: 10:58, shit your brains out.

We’ve all been there, on one timeline or another. Something about deep concentration and coffee really makes people poop. There’s no sweeter distraction than the parting of the bowels, especially after a long day of confusion and stress.

“AT 10:58, SHIT YOUR BRAINS OUT.” Each bathroom in Mudd has a particular social environment and physical characteristics that inform the unique experience of shitting therewithin’st’ve. We’ve dispatched investigators to the bathrooms on all five floors to give you the most comprehensive, in-depth analysis of shitting in Mudd to date.

FIRST FLOOR

The bustling downtown. Perhaps the most-trafficked bathrooms on campus. As a result, if you get there too late, things can get messy — last week, I went and the place looked clean as new. But this morning, the floor was covered in tomato sauce, and there was a pile of hair underneath the sink. Don’t touch any surfaces if you can help it.

Hygiene notwithstanding, there’s a major perk of privacy.

Some people like to get completely naked and stand up while they wipe their ass, and the whole locked-door single-use thing makes that a lot more comfortable. You could even fuck in there if you really, really hated yourself.

SECOND FLOOR These appear to be recently renovated.

Someone took a dookie in the urinal of the men’s bathroom three years ago, and the stain has persisted. This year, for the first time, the stain’s been expunged, complemented by a general shining of surfaces and removal of some bad graffiti. Kudos to the janitors.

Though much less busy than the first, the second floor gets some serious traffic, especially during exams. It’s not unlikely that someone will come in and pee or wash their hands while you spread your fragrance. Say hi!

if you’ve seen them — they both go by Jack and wear long hair in ponytails.

A-LEVEL “The Hidden Gem.” If you talk to anyone who really knows what they’re doing, they’ll tell you they go downstairs to poop at Mudd. No one thinks to go down there, so in theory, they should be much cleaner and more private.

Some swords are double-edged, however, and the blessed isolation of A-Level can become a curse. Sasper Jims, a Professor of Economics, recounts a time he was dropping loaf without a care only to discover that there was no toilet paper!

“My phone was dead so I couldn’t call anybody. I screamed for help for what felt like hours, but no one was listening. I had to sneak out of the bathroom with my pants around my legs… shit dripping from my funtunnel… and use the women’s room.”

So if you go down to A-Level, make sure to check for TP before you commit.

Plushtoy666 is a blogger, poet, and freelance journalist. They can be contacted at at plushtoy666@gmail.com.

As always, we’re interested in your feedback!

Please contact The Grape’s Defeca-tective team with any comments, questions, or bathrooms you’d like to see reviewed.

THIRD FLOOR What the 2nd floor looked like ten years ago. A little less busy.

FOURTH FLOOR Do these even exist? We sent some reporters up there, but they never came back. Please contact the Grape

OCTOBER 13, 2017

25

ART BY JUAN-MANUEL PINZON

PEN15 CLUB FOND REDMEMBERANCES: RED CRAYOLA CRAYON

BY JUAN-MANUEL PINZON BAD HABITS WRITER I have recently caught myself thinking about some of my past pens. Maybe it’s because I had an old friend visit recently and I’m still reveling in the sweet dose of nostalgia that came with him, or maybe it’s the realization of commitment that came upon receiving the bulk box of Jetstreams. Of course it was an exciting decision, and while I am certainly not second guessing the purchase, the bulk box of Jetstreams is definitely a commitment. I’m not saying that I feel stuck with the Jetstream, I’ve just been fondly reliving some moments in the past with other writing implements.

Back when things were simpler, I had little need for the precision and detail the Jetstream provides me so well with today. I could write with whatever I liked, jumping freely from one writing tool to the next without thinking much of it. There were, of course, particular pens that became go-tos. My first in particular has been turning around a lot in my mind. Those were truly simpler times. There was none of this notes business to deal with. All I had to do in a day was write my name as best I could and doodle some silly imaginary scene to give to my parents when they came to pick me up. It was just me and my red Crayola.

We were inseparable. My teachers would often suggest I try to add a few different colors to my strangely monochrome drawings of my house and parents, but I refused.

I think I was drawn to the crayon because of its vibrancy and ability to accomplish different drawing and writing tasks. The red crayon was just the right size for my tiny 3 year old hands, it was perfect for writing the quintessential backwards ‘J’ in Juan, and even better for drawing the lopsided eyes that were characteristic of depictions of my father. Over time and with much practice, I figured out

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how to do much more than simple scribbles with the red Crayola.

I particularly enjoyed pressing the crayon deep into the paper and watching small red flakes crumble onto the page before I smudged them into an ominous red cloud or identically red grass. It must have been that the red one was a little more brittle than the other colors because they just didn’t cut it when it came to this. Purple was close, but it wasn’t quite the same. I used the red so exclusively that we had to get sharpeners to lengthen the lives of the overworked crayons.

I don’t quite remember what it was that drew me away from the red Crayola. Perhaps it was the introduction of a full set of Prismacolor colored pencils for my 4th birthday, maybe it was just that I grew out of it. But for whatever reason, I stopped using my beloved red Crayola and moved on to scribble with other things. This must have been the beginning of my pen addiction. I definitely see the role the Crayola has played in influencing my writing utensil selection over the years—always versatile and adaptable, comfortable and fun. It has been interesting to reflect on and see how my pen choices have changed and to see glimpses of the past in the writing utensil I choose today. I don’t think I’d ever trade my Jetstream for a red Crayola, but it’s been nice to reflect and reminisce on those oh-so happy and worry free days.

With this issue, Juan retires the PEN15 Club column. To those who have been with me and the column for the last two years he bids a fond farewell. To the rest, he’s amazed he made it this far, too.

Email columnist Juan-Manuel Pinzon at jpinzon@oberlin.edu. Pinzon

OFFICE OF DISABILITY SERVICES A HOLOGRAM THIS ENTIRE TIME

BY ISABELLE KENET BAD HABITS WRITER After years of deceit and complex visual illusions, it turns out the Office of Disability Services was just an elaborate hologram image that looked like a physical location with humans working inside of it this whole time. “It actually never existed as a tactile, material thing,” said Dean Meredith Raimondo, “but was always just a three-dimensional image formed by the interference of light beams from a laser that only seemed like an actual campus resource. I’m shocked it took everyone this long to notice.”

Students who have attempted to access rooms 116 and 118 of Peters Hall in the past have noticed that it actually had no physical structure and was simply a photograph of an interference pattern that, when suitably illuminated, produced a three-dimensional image of an Office of Disability Services. Rather than providing adequate accommodations to students with learning and emotional difficulties, this office simply existed as little more than an ethereal concept manifested as several thousand beams of light. “I noticed that when I tried to go in to get evaluated for Attention Deficit Disorder, my hand went right through the doorknob of the office as if it were…well, as if it were made purely of light,” stated one sophomore. “I didn’t think much of it at the time, but now that I know the entire Office of Disabilities is a hologram, it makes a lot more sense to me,” said one sophomore.

“What the actual fuck?” asked new president Carmen Ambar in a phone interview. “No offense, but this school much more wack than I had originally thought.” The rest of the administration declined to comment.

Isabelle is a ghostwriter for the office of disabilities email server. she also contributes to the grape and instagram

IT’S TRUE

I HAVE A SPECIAL LINGERIE SET

RESERVED EXCLUSIVELY FOR FIRE DRILLS

BY ISABELLE KENET BAD HABITS WRITER

INSTA-NAME GENERATOR

BY CLARE CURRY CONTRIBUTOR

First Letter of First Name

Middle Initial

First Letter of Last Name

lonely yung lil baby dumpster sleepy normal sloppy trap slutty elderly glutenfree official human woke average awkward agressive st0ner sexii athletic needy goth vegetarian thicc fancy

A-M: period (.)

O-Z: underscore (_)

A. B. C. D. E. F. G. H. I. J. K. L. M. N. O. P. Q. R. S. T. U. V. W. X. Y. Z.

A. B. C. D. E. F. G. H. I. J. K. L. M. N. O. P. Q. R. S. T. U. V. W. X. Y. Z.

toddler bitchhh ho toast bean trash lentil mom teen dad sloot daddy queen vegan saltine librarian loaf candy potato pube troll babe kiddo gurl boi police

We’ve all been there: in bed, chomping on a fistful of Frosted Flakes, 12 minutes into a 27-minute “cringe compilation,” hoodie drawstrings tied in a neat underchin double knot for maximum warmth and denial-ofown-existence.

Then, the unimaginable happens, and it happens loudly: the FUCKING fire alarm goes off, because the universe hates it when you are in your element. And you simply can’t go outside in the state you’re in, lifethreatening disaster or no life-threatening disaster.

But, dear reader, I have discovered a way to COMPLETELY avoid going out for a fire alarm dressed in the homeless-troll-chic attire I normally wear at home alone in bed. Do you know the popular Disney film Beauty and the Beast? In it, there is a magical rose that floats delicately under a glass orb. Or—have you seen those fire extinguishers, kept pristine behind a plate of glass marked: BREAK IN CASE OF FIRE? I keep my Fire Drill Lingerie Set in a similar glass enclosure, only to be removed in the circumstance that I must appear before my peers and local firemen looking effortlessly glamorous, as a means of tricking them into thinking that I take my mid-morning nap in a Swarovski-crystal encrusted thong and padded bra.

Reader: it works every time.

I strut confidently out onto North Quad, dazzling each person I pass with my rabbit fur-fringed floorlength silk robe and 6-inch gold-plated platform high **if any of these names are taken just add a some random numbers to the end heels. Wow, they are all thinking, now she’s got her shit and you’ll be all good! together! My platinum-and-sapphire tiara twinkles in the light of the flames that are lapping up the entire 2nd floor of Burton. The fire fighters arrive, and immediately forget that there are massive black plumes of smoke barreling out of the dorm room windows. They can’t take their eyes off me.

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COMPARITIVE SPLITCHERATURE

BY DANIEL CRAMER CONTRIBUTOR Is The Splitchers a factory or a corporation?

This is a question people ask me all the time. They just…come up to me and ask me. So, in this week’s Comparative Splitchers, I will use The Splitchers to discuss anatomies of power.

Specifically, there are two models that The Splitchers can embody. To begin, we must go, like any sly, slick, icky motherfucker, to the DJ booth. This process of “going” involves “rising.” Such imagery of ascension is consistent with notions of getting “high.” But the altitude is significant. It represents the elevation of the DJ and posse as authoritarian “other”. These “others” work within genre and judgement, much like the authority in Foucault’s Panopticon. In this capacity, dancers and chillers

alike act out the theatre of the powerless, infinitely isolated, infinitely monitored. If this categorization corresponded to Foucault’s “plagued,” then let us now turn to Foucault’s “leper” (his idea of a leper, not his literal leper, who is a real piece of work can I just say!).

Jumping out of the frying Panopticon and into the fire, I would like to address The Ramp, home of the leper. If the dance floor is a Society of Discipline, a Panopticon, a factory (and it is, ok?), then The Ramp is a Society of Control. In Deleuze’s Societies of Control, the authoritarian “other” is embodied by individuals who compete with one another instead of oblige an alternative entity. This is the corporation.

Such competition, though, is truly just a deeper

embodiment of commitment to the other. We kid ourselves if we believe that by stepping outside, we are in any way defying our DJ. In fact, we do the opposite. By chillin, keepin the night goin, and potentially seshin, all we are doing on The Ramp is further obeying the DJ’s vision for the night: to kick it.

When these two modes of power distribution are put in dialogue with each other, they talk all night and really just catch up. But when they are compared academically, we see that The Panoptical reigns supreme in The Splitchers. The Splitchers, therefore, is a factory, and not a corporation. But what does this factory produce?

Memories :)

CLEVELAND VIBRATOR COMPANY: A DELIGHT

BY ZOE JASPER BAD HABITS WRITER As a single gal, sometimes I need a little more than a visit to Ginko’s to get through my day. I need to watch some female-friendly Tumblr porn and flick the “lentil” as we say around here. So when I heard about Cleveland Vibrator Company, also known as Cleveland’s best Industrial Equipment Supplier, I knew I needed to get my hands on their supposedly high tech, heavy duty equipment.

For all of you thinking about adding some industrial strength to your self love routines, I’ve reviewed Cleveland Vibrator Company’s best products.

VM- Miniature Air Piston Vibrators OMFG, this vibrator is too cute! A steampunk cosplaying cousin to the classic bullet vibrator, you can shove it right up your vagina. The metal parts that jut out provide fun clit stimulation, as they scrape it clean off.

Can you say masochism? Plus, this vibrator’s portability makes it perfect to bring anywhere from Tallahassee to Tappan. Overall, I’d give it 3.5 stars.

DC Large Load Truck & Trailer Vibrators This vibrator has some awesome perks: it comes “permanently lubricated”, it “can handle the toughest environments”, and has “lower noise levels”. But can such a powerful vibe really be quiet enough not to wake up your whole hall? I put it to the ultimate test with a quick session on the 4th floor of Mudd. Was I asked to

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leave because of my exposed genitals or the vibrator’s disruptive noise? We may never know for sure, but I would nonetheless recommend this vibrator to confident masturbators. 4.5 stars.

FWT Flat Deck Vibratory Weigh Table As I hoisted myself onto this big mama of a vibrator, I expected full body waves of pleasure. Instead, I was immediately bucked off and fell flat on my vag.

However, with some kinky straps or a block of lead to weigh you down, this vibrator could provide the sexy mechanical bull ride of a lifetime. Since it doesn’t come with the necessary straps, I would only give this vibe 2 stars, but good try!

Electromagnetic (CM) CM-5 110V I can honestly say that this is my new favorite vibrator on the market! Kiss your magic wand goodbye, cause this baby delivers the high voltage electrical current your pussy has been missing. I’d like to see a man do that! My one complaint about this vibrator is that using it in the bath cost me a quick trip to Mercy, but any coma you go into is nothing compared to the earth shattering orgams you’re about to have. 5 stars!

Zoe would love to make a blood oath with you.

Send your blood to OCMR 1182.

SEX AND THE OC A new column that dissects questions about hookup culture for each issue. Email the writer with your questions, stories, or “what the fuck, dude?” moments and we’ll talk about it together, very publicly.

BY ISABEL KLEIN BAD HABITS EDITOR If you’re not getting laid, and especially if you’re a wee lil freshman virgin, there is nothing more painful than sitting through a 3 hour safer sex consent workshop about how to handle a hot senior boy approaching you at a party and dragging you upstairs to try to deep dick you.

I was a virgin my freshman year and the most annoying part for me was the fact that I simply could not participate in so many of the both important and frivolous conversations that occurred around me, since they overwhelmingly revolved around sex. I sat through these workshops more excited by the idea of a senior boy even wanting to feel me up than actually taking it as a cautionary tale. I was, as they say: what not to do.

Not that I need to justify my freshman year virgin status, but I never had sex because, well, high school boys were out of the question and I simply never hooked up with someone enough times that I felt like I could face the possibility of bleeding on their sheets. Plus, I had so much reading to do for Psych 100!

My freshman year roommate turned best friend Zoe* and I have been talking about this stage of my life a lot recently, because this is our last semester at Oberlin together. Zoe has quite literally slept with every hot person on this campus, 3 times. Throughout my virginal freshman year and her dramatic drunk-sex fueled sophomore year, she was a mentor of sorts. Yes, she would tell me about some her fave sex moves, and they would fly right over my baby brain, but I would for sure try to adapt them for those blue-ball-engorging make out sessions I frequently enjoyed. During this time of my freshman year, I had lost all my friends and was so fine spending every Friday night watching Downton Abbey and waiting for Zoe to walk in at 6 a.m. eating peanut m&ms from the East vending machine, already having developed some kind of sex injury, and ready with a good ass story.

I always loved talking about sex with Zoe. Although I had little to contribute to the conversations, our talks were long and rich and vivid and interspersed with references to Simone de Beauvoir. We didn’t have these conversations to brag or because we particularly cared about

these boys so much. It’s hard to realize it in the moment, but even the most crude conversations were helping us learn who we really were. I mean really, there is nothing like bonding with a friend about cum on the face to make you really fall in love with each other and learn about yourself in the process.

The thing is, that part of me was always so jealous of Zoe during these conversations, not even because of the actual sex she was having (since that was so not on my radar), but because she had all of these funny stories and could relate to other Oberlin students also talking about their sexual escapades so freely and in good humor.

I’m sure we’ve all been surrounded by these conversation too – perhaps your co-workers have made off-handed comments about a condom brand they enjoy, or maybe you’ve caught up with an acquaintance on the mailroom line and can’t help but notice a tasteful hickey atop their collarbone. For such a politically charged campus, one that prioritizes social justice and encourages challenging discourse, we all sure do talk about sex all the time, and try to encourage each other to feel comfortable doing so. But, for a long time, I was automatically completely excluded from almost every conversation I came across on this campus, except those with Zoe, since we were always able to take a conversation about sweaty dicks and turn it into something more philosophical.

With this being said, there’s no way anyone on this campus is having as much sex as they suggest. In fact, many of the people you talk to are probably virgins. Having both educated, factual conversations about sex as well as those late night dirty gossip seshes in a Burton dorm room are probably useful, and attending college at such a sex-positive institution is truly a privilege. All I’m saying is that it’s really hard to be completely engrossed in sex positivity when you’re a virgin.

Well-intentioned conversations during consent workshops can make someone who isn’t having sex for whatever reason feel like they are really behind or, in other words, a total schmuck.

Zoe and I have grown a lot in these past 2 years.

Somehow I grew from a virgin to The Grape’s source for sexual musings (lol), and Zoe… well, Zoe has run out of people to fuck (she’s making it work though, don’t worry). Although I have yet to make

Continued on next page..

OCTOBER 13, 2017

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Continued from page 29. is still pervasive enough that if I have a two week long dry spell I feel like I’m letting down the acquaintances, the co-workers, and even my best friends who now expect good Oberlin sex content from me. This is not to say that I hook up with people just to talk about it, but I’m not going to lie –as a seasoned and professional journalist, I am always looking for a good story.

COMIC BY TOM MORRISON

WWOOFING AT OBERLIN WORLD-WIDE OPPORTUNITIES FOR OBERLIN FUCK-UPS

*names have been changed to protect the guilty Isabel is a Carrie/ Miranda fusion with an occasional Charlotte outburst. She is simply not a Samantha. Write her an Oberlin Crush or email her at iklein@oberlin.edu.

BY LIAM RUSSO BAD HABITS WRITER Mmm, don’t you miss that smothering, cigarette fume-clouded runway after splitchers? The quickies in the back pews of Finney? Or even the sweet feeling of Stevie broccoli getting caught in your cleft chin? Well, instead of squatting with the boys on Union, now you can stick it to your mom because you’ve got a job here in Oberlin, baby!

Take a look at a quick sample of the open farms this season: FIRELANDS FOCACCIA FARM Farmer Profile: Ok listen. My name is Liz. I was born and raised on the Scarsdale, New York, but now I live on the 6th floor of Firelands.

I do need someone to vacuum my oriental rug and cook me tempeh. I’m tired of drinking Soylent and this town sucks literal ass. I need someone who can make my Savory Thai Watermelon Goat Cheese sweetgreen salad and read aloud my sex column in The Grape like an audiobook. I’m assuming most of you are pedestrian and banal, so you’ll also have to fill out an application. Make sure to include your social security number, birthstone,

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THE GRAPE

and what type of investment bank your dad works in. XO Amenities: 2nd shelf of mini fridge, Sorry not the big one I also have Blow up mattress I have clementines you can eat Brookstone acupuncture kit If you make a good Cosmopolitan, you can use my rock tumbler Also my beautiful dog is named Tyco.

He needs to be fed dairy free macaroon tofu nips 3 times a day Reviews: Berta (Assistant at TV Guide) ** 2 stars Liz treated me like a squashed bug and it was the most thrilling experience I’ve ever had. There were two other wwoofers there so I slept under the bed. Every time we’d do something wrong she’d spray up with an Evian water bottle and say “what are you a glacier? Move!” This is gonna be perfect for my ethnography.

Harry (Working at Pro Snowboarding) ****** 6 stars Liz is mad hot. She sprayed me with water and then we made out. Better than shower sex. The dog is a complete menace. It has sunspots and barks until it gets leftover margarita shaved ice.

BARNARD SUBSTANCE FREE FARMS Farmer Profile: Hey gin soaked hags, the name’s Kyle.

I need someone to sit around my place and wait for my customers to come in.

The business is going well, but I don’t trust any of these Barnard bitches, so I’m amping up security. The ice pops are up for grabs, just don’t take my weed.

Amenities: Views of North Quad EZ Bake Oven (for the br0wnies) You can use the closet or you can use the couch, but not both A few half-opened PBRs Don’t use the mortar and pestle Log into my Webkinz once a day and feed Reggie (He’s the green frog). Also

head to the Curio Shop. I hope you find what you’re lookin’ for.

I started making some kombucha on my desk this week, just monitor it.

Reviews: Hannah, Comparative Literature Alumna, Unemployed *1 star Ok every time I logged onto his Webkinz account, the daily Wheel of Wow spin was already used?? Bullshit.

He didn’t leave the room all day and kept asking me if I was a friend of his roommate Tom? Also, he doesn’t have kombucha? It’s just syrup with an orange slice in it???

Anonymous ******7 stars I HEaR KylE’’s DIck IS 8---> NINE INCHES looooonG Lil Li is Giada’s penne penne preggo mozzarella grandson. For amore, email him @lrusso@oberlin.edu .

LETTERS TO THE EDITORS To the editors, I recently attended “Athletics 101” a discussion involving students and faculty about Oberlin College athletics.

The faculty and staff empaneled for this discussion were ostensibly meeting to address the pervasive issue that many athletes feel attacked simply for being an athlete on this campus. I was disappointed, however, when the discussion failed to recognize the reason most students dislike athletes: we are all deeply psychologically traumatized by Troy Bolton’s webcast betrayal of Gabriella Montes in 2006.

It was baffling to me that this topic would go undiscussed at a discussion of Oberlin athletics. While most athletes on this campus were not a part of the 2006 East High Wildcats basketball team, we all still feel the effects of Troy’s ruthless denunciation of Gabriella as “just a girl.”

We live in a world where saying that musical theater is just a “distraction” is merely brushed off as locker room talk. These kinds of words have real life consequences-- hearing statements like that without challenging them can lead to women being forced to abandon their musical theater dreams and focus solely on the scholastic decathlon. I have been on this campus for 3 years now and I have never once heard an athlete denounce Troy’s words, or even refer to him as “lunkhead basketball man.” How can non-athlete college students be expected to blindly trust that athletes won’t betray them if put under pressure from their sport team?

Where is the institutional support for a conversation about the pressure Troy was under to reject Gabriella, to impress his basketball buddies?

I know that most athletes on this campus would never betray Gabriella to impress their sports buddies, it’s still true that athletics contribute to a

toxic environment where it’s demanded that people stick to the status quo and sneak around their school’s campus in order to practice their callback song with Kelsey in secret, lest their dad find out that they want to pursue their dream of singing and not basketball. I don’t want to blame individual athletes for the decisions of a few, namely Troy, Chad, Zeke, Jason, and the rest of the Wildcats — but I hope that moving forward we can have a productive conversation about the ways in which Oberlin Athletics isn’t immune to our culture of toxic masculinity. We can’t all be in this together until there is an institutional acknowledgement of the ways our community is harmed by Troy’s violent words and actions.

Sincerely, Claudia Baker To the editors, Fuck you guys. Your article on Dave’s Subs sex positions ruined my relationship. At first, it was great. Me and my girlfriend were Hammer Dave-ing all night long and the sex had never been better. But then she wanted more.

Next thing I knew, she left me for that crusty fucker Dave! I guess my chiseled college student bod couldn’t stack up to a man who promised to “show her how to make love like it’s 1969.” Next issue, I’d appreciate a disclaimer that having sex inspired by sandwiches might result in losing the love of my life to a man well into middle age.

Sincerely, Dickinson Putin

Dinckinson Putin’s referenced “Dave’s Cosmic Subs sex positions” from the most recent issue of The Grape.

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OCTOBER 13, 2017

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