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Managing Editor


Senior Editor



News Director Music Editor



Literature Editor

COLLEEN BROWN Culture Editor

ROSE FEDUK Comics Editor


GABE FERREIRA Art Director/Cover



Illustration Editor

Photo Editor/Cover Photo Web Manager


Advertising Executive


Opinions Editor



Managing Editor

Entertainment Editor

—Virginia Woolf


The Union Weekly is published using ad money and partial funding provided by the Associated Students, Inc. All Editorials are the opinions of the Union Weekly, not ASI, or CSULB. All students are welcome and encouraged to be a part of the Union Weekly staff. All letters to the editor will be considered for publication. However, CSULB students will have precedence. Please include name, major, class standing, and phone number for all submissions. They are subject to editing and will not be returned. Letters may or may not be edited for grammar, spelling, punctuation, and length. The Union Weekly will publish anonymous letters, articles, editorials and illustrations, but must have your name and information attached for our records. Letters to the editor should be no longer than 500 words. The Union Weekly assumes no responsibility, nor is it liable, for claims of its advertisers. Grievance procedures are available in the Associated Students business office.



ey juggalos, I have some good news and some bad news for you this week. Bad news is, I just stubbed my toe really bad. Good news is, our website has had a makeover and is finally ready to make its debut. And when I say finally, I mean I’ve been working closely with my art director, web manager, and the man behind many of ASI’s websites, Duong Vuong, most of summer to get this puppy ready for the public. If you’re reading this, Duong, I can’t thank you enough for all the hard work you’ve put into turning our website from mildly embarrassing to quite impressive. So thanks, man. We did it! But mostly you! But it doesn’t end there, dear reader; we also have a few goodies on the site courtesy of College Beat Productions. In the hopes of humanizing my staff of newspaper bots, College Beat and I decided to create a series of get-to-knowyou videos titled Meet the Union. The talented film jockeys over at College Beat (special shout out to Aman, Jeff, and Elliot. You guys are brilliant.) have been slaving


over our little project for a solid week. The videos should be ready by Wednesday of this week so give them a gander when you get the chance (I know how busy you are with school and work and love and feeding your fish, so I understand if you don’t get to it till Friday). All this talk about change gives me the perfect chance to clumsily segue into our feature. Those new to the campus may not have noticed our beloved Quiznos being replaced by a freshly built Domino’s, but I certainly did. It is my understanding that we already had a greasy pizza joint on this campus in the form of Sbarros, so why did we need this new one? This was the perfect opportunity to offer this campus a healthy alternative and the powers that be really blew it. Or perhaps Domino’s just offered the highest bid for the location. We may not be able to find many organic food options here at CSULB, but we are not powerless. This week’s feature centers on the cost of eating organic and whether it’s even possible to do so on a college student’s income.

Damn, I ran out of segues. Whatever, here’s another thing that’s been on my mind this past week: we’ve had quite a few looky-loos popping into the new office as of late, wondering if they can get tickets to Furby’s on Ice or some other such nonsense. It’s at this point where I realize, because our walls are covered in movie posters, that they have mistaken us for Program Council, a campus organization which offers tickets to movies and events on campus. At this juncture, I politely inform them that Program Council has moved. But sometimes these passersby are looking for the Union, so I give them our spiel (We are the Union Weekly, the independent newspaper on campus blah bleep blop, etc.) and explain the contributing process. I tend to forget that people outside the Union don’t know how it works. So I’ve dug up an old graphic from the our archive (circa 1940) to explain said process. Pay close attention and you just might end up running the show someday. But most likely you’ll be too busy feeding your various fish to ever amount to much.



1. Read the Union. You’re already doing this. So far so good.

Questions? Comments? Kumquats?! Mail: 1212 Bellflower Blvd., Suite 116, Long Beach,CA 90815 Phone: 562.985.4867 E-mail: Web:


2. Come to a Meeting.

3. Write an Article.

Every Tuesday at 7pm in the NEW Union Office. Now with fewer rats. (Next to the pool tables in the USU)

This step is pretty important, so don’t forget to do it. Seriously, write yourself a note.










hose of you living in the dorms on campus know very well how excessively expensive they are. We pay over six hundred dollars a month for our rooms and we’re forced to pay for a meal plan, which can range from three to four hundred more dollars a month. Let’s say we’re looking at a cool grand a month. And yet, kids are still paying to have their car on campus full time, too! I don’t understand how or why they do this. I’ll be the first to admit just how frugal I am, as I’m sure most of you are too. I refuse to spend that kind of money when I’ve already given the school an arm and a leg just to live here. However, I am not yet ready to spend all my extra time cooped up behind those four

cinder-block walls I am paying for. That is why I have recently turned to the public busing system, and why I urge you to do the same! First of all, you are already paying for it with your tuition. Cal State Long Beach students get to ride the bus for free. The city knows you’re a poor college student, eating ramen meal after meal, and need the handout. Gladly accept it and get your ass on the bus. For those of you unaware, all you have to do is swipe your school ID and you get on the bus for free every single time! It’s a waste of your money to not explore the local life of Long Beach. It may seem a little daunting at first. Trust me, I know. I am still in the works of mastering the art of public transportation.

I am from the suburbs, where everyone drives and pities the carless. I had no clue how to go about this. But it’s simple, I promise. At this point in my self-induced education, I can tell you that any of the 90s buses will take you to Target on Bellflower Boulevard, the D bus is now called the 121 (as in, “it is the one that will take you to In-N-Out”), and the Passport buses will take you down to the Queen Mary and The Aquarium of the Pacific. There’s a whole world out there waiting for you if you are willing to ride to it! Last week, the Long Beach Transit had a little booth on campus across from the bookstore where they had easy to read route and schedule guides. There was even a real

live person there that answered questions and told you how to get around. And he gave out free shit. So why are you still so apprehensive about the public buses? Is it because of the scary riff-raff you’ve heard about public transportation? Well, there’s some truth to that. My very first adventure greeted me with a man peeing himself and a women totally flipping out to the point of where the kickass bus driver kicked them both off. I swear, she was like a local superhero. So yeah, scary stuff happens, but I assume you can acclimate yourself to the new culture of city buses in enough time. Just man the fuck up. For the most part, it’s not bad at all. And hey— there’s air conditioning!

to heart — that’s the way I am, and will probably always be. When people (ahem, my mom) asked me to stop working out because I looked fine, I argued with her and told her to stop bothering me about it because after all, I was doing this for myself, not anyone else. That’s when it hit me. If I were doing this for my own well-being, I wouldn’t be so miserable and moody all the time. I would be content with the small progress I made in those weeks of tiresome work, and wouldn’t come down so hard on myself for indulging in a cupcake every once in a while. I wasn’t doing this for myself, but rather to impress and become more attractive to others. Luckily in the process of attempting to make myself acceptable to others, I realized I really don’t give a fuck if I was fit or good looking enough for other

people anymore. In the last few weeks of summer, I forced myself to stop freaking out over everything I ate and attempted to not dwell in depression over the fact I only worked out once a day. Most importantly, I learned that a leaner body and lower number on the scale doesn’t necessarily guarantee immediate happiness. I’m going to end this by saying I’m not trying to convince any of you (or myself) of anything. If working out like crazy and obsessing over your diet makes you happy, then go for it. Nonetheless, if you come to realize that a restricting lifestyle is not for you, it’s okay to stop. There’s no need to drive yourself mad. I may not be a size two, but at least I don’t have to pretend to be happy anymore.



People who talk about themselves and go into deep detail about their personal problems never cease to make everyone around them feel terribly uncomfortable. Fortunately for you all, I’m a part of this unfavorable cesspool of people. This summer I dedicated most of my free time to exercising. Prior to the summer, I hardly ever worked out, nor did I care about the extra few pounds I was carrying. However, countless pictures of relentless beauties and their slammin’ bodies on Instagram and the Internet made me feel like a complete failure for letting myself get so out of shape. That’s when the slight obsession began. My summer days were composed of me comparing workout plans and sharing cardio music with my coworkers. Almost every other sentence that came out of




my mouth was related to my goal to lose weight. I watched everything I ate, and felt like garbage if I didn’t workout at least twice a day. Things got so out of hand that I almost burst into tears when I noticed that my sister’s number on the scale was remarkably lower than mine. She did nothing to take care of herself and managed to lose weight and yet I, who worked endlessly to see a lower number on the scale, only ended up gaining weight. My sister explained to me the extra weight was probably just muscle, but I simply ignored her comment and added an extra thirty minutes to my workout sessions. Rest assured that by mid-summer, I hated the way I looked, as I’m sure most people do around that time. It would also be a good thing to tell you that I don’t take compliments kindly or



You always remember your firsts. From your first time on a pogo stick to your first time playing soggy waffle (and losing), memories of new experiences stick around for years to come. Before those initial episodes of Alzheimer’s disease begin to muddle your mind, you have years, nay decades, to ponder the recollections of your first kiss, your first parking ticket, and more. Some will bring you joy, others will be negligible, and the memory of others will make you cringe. This past year consisted of many personal firsts, one of the most significant being my first full time job during this past summer. When I applied for the job, it never registered that I would be waking up at 5:30 A.M. for the majority of my summer and working until the afternoon rush hour. Nor did I realize that I would be so tired after work that I would only have enough energy to carry me through a bus ride home, an early dinner, and the few steps it took to reach my bed. Being

a night owl, I considered it sacrilegious and even impossible for me to fall asleep before the sun went down, no matter the circumstances. In the immortal words of everyone’s least favorite Canadian pop star, never say never. Following the first weeks of my job, my throat began to ache. I had to wonder if it was from speaking for most of the day or from being infected by any of the multitude of people that I was being paid to assist. The repetition of giving tour after tour, giving presentation after presentation, and more, all while keeping a spring in my step and a smile on my face, was quite the task for one so accustomed to lacking in patience for others. After being in the sun nearly every day of the week, even after drowning myself in sunscreen, I began to develop tan lines that were constant physical reminders of the challenge I had decided to take on during what was supposed to be a relaxing summer. Endless hours spent online and spontaneous weekday adventures became a

thing of summers past. One question directed to me at the start of my employment stuck with me throughout the following months of work: “Did you volunteer for this?” While suppressing a laugh and kindly informing the inquisitor of the contrary, I realized that anyone who could volunteer for the job that myself and twenty-eight other students had undertaken would be no less than a saint. After many exhausting weeks of being a SOAR advisor, I wouldn’t trade the experience for the world. As far as employment experiences go, my own seems like a blessing in comparison with those who deal with money behind checkout counters, prepare double shot mocha lattes day in and day out, and other tasks that drive them to near insanity. Looking past the hard work required of you, SOAR allows you to learn invaluable information about the university, make connections within nearly every department on campus, and earn wages to

pay off your ever-amassing college debt. Besides being a unique experience for each and every new student that passes through the program, SOAR is a job that I was happy to have applied and been chosen for. Rarely have I heard about or even hoped to experience a work environment where coworkers are like family, including the teasing and debates, and where the exhaustion you experience at the end of a shift is oddly satisfying. As a coworker said multiple times over the course of the summer, you only SOAR once (hashtag YOSO, for those in the know). Although that may not ring true for SOAR employees, the one-time job experience during your college career is something to cherish before graduation hits and you’re forced to find a job outside of the university you’ve become so accustomed to. Keep in mind that if you ever apply, enjoying the taste of El Pollo Loco’s chicken and veggie bowls is basically a prerequisite.


The College of Education is your gateway towards snagging a job in the teaching realm. With the economic downturn over the past four to five years, many of us have felt that this is a relatively unsafe field to find work in. Well, my friends, that seems to be changing in the near future. The fact of the matter is that many teachers and other educators are aging and will soon retire, leaving vacant posts open to the vast job market. Probably one of the most friendly and accessible people on our campus, Dean Marquita Grenot-Scheyer was very easy to talk to regarding what is currently going on in the College of Education. She was able to inform me that there was definitely more than meets the eye regarding the realm of teaching. Dean Grenot-Scheyer introduced me to the fact that the College of Education offers undergraduate, credential, and graduate programs in the areas of teaching, counseling, educational leadership and administration, and advanced instruction and research. Every student who enters a credential program has to have a bachelor’s degree, thus maintaining a sense of professionalism. This means that people from a wide variety of majors (including Spanish and Astronomy for example) can enter these programs prepared and ready to educate the general public.

There are different options for students interested in teaching, including the popular Multiple Subject Credential, the Education Specialist Credential, and the popular Single Subject Credential Program that has been marketed to students across campus including the Romance, German, Russian Languages and Literatures (RGRLL) Department in the College of Liberal Arts. The single subject program allows students in fields as diverse as Mathematics or Industrial Science a way to specialize in what they do best, and to take the knowledge they learned and apply it to our public school system. What I am trying to show is that the College of Education is not only comprised of the undergradute Liberal Studies teaching degree, but also has a plethora of options for a variety of students with different needs and interests. Our College of Education is a vibrant learning environment, and its students will go on to change and enlighten the world and our future generations. All it takes for us to make a difference is a small walk to the college’s office which is located next to the library or a visit to the college’s website (http://www.ced.csulb. edu/prospective-students). If you are considering teaching, do it. The future has much in store for you.








his semester the University Bookstore is offering an all-new textbook price matching guarantee. That means you can no longer complain about the prices at the bookstore, arguing you can find the book cheaper on Amazon. Well, sort of. The price match guarantee does not work with websites like eBay, Craigslist,, or from any individual seller. Basically, the price match only works on products sold from an established company similar to the Bookstore. Prices



from websites like Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Chegg will be matched. “This is just one of the things that we’ve tried to do to address the cost of textbooks,” said Rosa Hernandez, director of communications for 49er Shops, who manages the bookstore. Hernandez said there has been a push over the past few years to address the cost of textbooks, like offering digital books and rental books. “We’ve got to do as much as we can for

students,” she said. “Every year we’re doing more and more. A lot of students have really responded to a lot of services that we’re providing for them.” The rules for guaranteeing your price match are pretty simple. You must bring a printout of the listing for the textbook you are purchasing, ensuring that the ISBN numbers match, and your CSULB ID card to the Customer Service Counter. Already bought the book? If it has been less than three days, you can still bring in the

receipt and the above listed materials to get cash back for the price difference. The price match works for new, used, and rental books. Used books cannot be compared to listings from an individual seller, and rental books must be reserved for an entire semester-worth of time. Although you won’t be able to match the Bookstore price with that of a used book from Nowhere, Minnesota for 5 cents, you can still find some books with notable price differences than that of the Bookstore.

and the people playing assorted trading and non-trading card games, for the Union Weekly’s Open Meeting. All are welcome. All are welcome. No need to be a journalism major or even a writer to join. If you can draw, enjoy taking pictures, soft kisses, laughing, and the awkwardness of having someone talk at you awkwardly for ten to fifteen minutes, then this is the place for you. Meetings are at 7 p.m. If you ask for Marco, I will tell you the story about how someone threw up on me or I will start sweating and stuttering nervously while learning the ability to put words together in a sentence. If you’re not too worn out from one day of classes (school takes some adjusting to after several months of not doing anything productive), you should join every organization on campus on Wednesday and Thursday at the Org fair. Here’s your chance to learn more about that one organization that you’ve always wanted to join but have been too afraid to go to the meetings. It’s

also the perfect opportunity to stock up on pens and to fill your belly with whatever free things this year’s Org Fair offers. Head to Upper Campus from 11 p.m. - 2 p.m. and ask the information desk to find out where the Org of your dreams lies. Friday is SMORGASPORT. You squeeze together a graham cracker, a piece of chocolate, and a melted marshmallow into the shape of your sport ball of choice and kick it. Confession time: As a child, I was deprived of experiencing the majesty that is the s’more. I think it affected me somehow. I blame my parents, school, and my middle school science teacher (for telling me to pursue my dreams) for how I turned out. Actually, Smorgasport is a yearly event held on campus that’s just a big party with free food, games, and other equally awesome free things like bowling and video games! It starts at 7 p.m. and the first 500 people get a free shirt. Like USU Program Council on Facebook for more information.


I spent the night prior to writing State of the Beach looking up videos of people high on “bath salts” to prepare myself for what I’m hoping will be a shorter and less stressful version of the first week of school. I would complain about the parking, but I’m tired of talking about how shitty parking was this past week. In an act of defiance and rebelliousness, I will refrain from acknowledging the act of parking, anything car related, and my plans to build a floating parking structure that requires every student to purchase a giant eagle or other flying creature to reach. I guess if everyone had a giant flying creature there would be no need for parking or parking passes, ever, and it would make the person who develops the genetically engineered load-bearing, flying creatures a billionaire. Maybe I shouldn’t print my billion dollar ideas in a free publication. Warning: IF YOU ARE AN OLD PERSON WITH LARGE AMOUNTS




OF DISPOSIBLE INCOME AND ARE SIMILAR IN DELUSION TO THE OLD MAN FROM JURASSIC PARK, PLEASE REFRAIN FROM STEALING MY IDEAS. Thank you and here are your events for the week: Monday was Labor Day and there was no school, so that makes this entry in State of the Beach completely irrelevant to everyone in labor or planning on doing laborious things on Monday. Also, all freshmen and freshwomen were supposed to show up to campus in order to receive the check for the $100 deduction from their tuition. I guess if you missed it you’re feeling pretty stupid right now as you read this, but fear not! For you will also feel stupid for believing that this campus would give free money on Labor Day. Dummy. Now that I’ve insulted you, your intelligence, your wallets, and the old man from Jurassic Park, come on down to the first floor of the USU, next to the pool tables






very trip to the grocery store is the same: when I’m presented with an organic or non-organic version of the same product, I scan the line of prices, and choose the cheapest option. As a student whose debt seems to be compounding daily, this process is almost instinctive. When saving a mere $3 on a grocery shopping trip means you can have Holé Molé the next time you’re hungover, every cent counts. But with organic food labels and hippies popping up everywhere, it’s hard to ignore the buzz over genetically modified organisms (GMOs). These organisms are ones whose DNA has been altered through genetic engineering. According to the Food and Agricultural Organization (FOA), crops are genetically engineered to decrease harvest failure and make foods more nutritious by inserting vitamins into their gene



structure. Animals are genetically modified, too, to increase their product output. It doesn’t sound all that bad; essentially, foods are modified to give everyone more food, more quickly. It sounds a little like a science fiction film, maybe, but nothing that uncomfortable. With the progression of technology, these types of advancements are expected. Unfortunately, the Food and Agricultural Organization also notes that GMOs are linked to the transfer of allergenic genes and possibly cause antibiotic resistance in humans who consume them. Part of genetic engineering is taking genes from other plants and inserting them into the plant you’re trying to modify. This causes problems when DNA from nuts is inserted into something like soybeans. If you’re allergic to nuts, but eat these genetically modified soybeans, you could find yourself with a throat swollen

shut without warning. And if your body becomes resistant to antibiotics, uh, good luck with your next bout of pneumonia. Enter organic foods. If GMOs have you grossed out or concerned for your health, organic foods are your messiah. I consulted the FOA once again to find out what makes a food organic, and it turns out that, to be considered organic, it must be “grown without the use of pesticides, synthetic fertilizers, sewage sludge, genetically modified organisms, or ionizing radiation. Animals that produce meat, poultry, eggs, and dairy products do not take antibiotics or growth hormones.” Sewage sludge? Are you fucking kidding me? That’s almost enough to convince me to buy exclusively organic foods. …Almost enough. The problem with organic foods is that they seem to be so much more expensive. To walk into a mostly organic grocery store like Whole

Foods, you actually have to be an owner of white slaves. But a few of us at the Union Weekly went around to local grocery stores to see if the extra cost of organic food is worth it for college students to join the movement against GMOs. We’ve established that some farmers think it’s okay to get fertilizer from the sewer, but in actuality, so much of the research done on genetically modified foods is inconclusive—thus far. I don’t have a doubt that someday it will get linked to cancer or mental disorders that make people enjoy cats on YouTube. But hey, maybe you’re skeptical and you don’t buy this shit. That’s totally okay. You still have a reason to check out organic foods: they support your local farms, and supporting local farms means strengthening your community. So visit a farmer’s market this weekend, or check out our breakdown of where organic prices might be worth it.

















hursday night. It was time to unwind from a long first week of school with a nice drink and a Breaking Bad marathon. I was just about to begin my pathetic descent into Dorito-stained apathy when I received a call from God. His name is Greg, and he had scored tickets to a show at The Echo. The band was HEALTH, a noise band that I had only had minimal interaction with. I’d listened to Lightning Bolt and felt like that was enough to fulfill my noise quota, but being assured that this show would not be to my regret, I decided to tag along. Now, The Echo is not my favorite venue. Sure, it does book some great talent, but its dark, muggy, disco-vomit interior has probably seen more unsavory acts committed within it’s walls than the whole




of Jennifer Aniston’s acting career. Plus, it smells literally like vomit. Yet, that is not even the worst of it. The venue itself is situated in Echo Park. Echo Park, though not as highly hipster saturated as the Fleet Foxes theme park known as Silverlake, sees its fair share of non-ironic irony and crumpled PBR cans. Such was the case when we arrived on the scene. A line had already formed outside; we parked a few blocks away. Surrounded by rows of smart cars and stewing in self-hatred, we made our way past crowds of ill-fitting jeans, terrible literary references, a guy who said his hero was Jack Kevorkian, and some fucking asshole mimes, into the venue. “This better be worth missing Doritos and Breaking Bad in my underwear,” I thought to myself. Little

did I know it would turn out to be quite an eye opening experience. Let’s begin with this cold hard concrete factoid that is completely and fantastically true: opening bands, most of the time, suck a big fat one. Such was the case here. We arrived late and missed the first opener, but if the second was any indication of the talent pool, then we missed absolutely nothing. The second band was called Tearist, and they were god awful. Composed of an instrumentalist and a banshee, they shrieked and groaned their way through a set that was defined mainly by what can only be described as poop. Trying much too hard to appeal to their artsy fartsy “I’m an asshole and I won’t bum you any cigarettes even though I have a full pack” crowd, Tearist pulled no punches in their application to the

awful department. They even, in true “fuck everyone” style, proceeded to pull out a block and hit it with a stick. Multiple times. In the crowd. Then she took off her shirt. That was Tearist in a nutshell. HEALTH, on the other hand, put on a fantastic live show. They opened with the slow burning “Courtship” and then proceeded to pummel face. Songs like “Die Slow”, “Crimewave”, and “Be Like Water” awed and deafened the crowd. John, the bassist, acted like a man possessed, swaying and gyrating as their drones washed over the crowd like waves. They even came out and played “Girl Attorney” for the encore. I left the venue a satisfied man, and then witnessed a man peeing on a smart car. It was a good night.





theism is simply a lack of belief. I do not believe in God, Zeus, or the Flying Spaghetti Monster. I just do not believe that there is a higher power in the universe controlling what we do or only I am in control of the actions that I take and the consequences that follow. My future is what I make of it and will be shaped by the relationships I form and the decisions I choose to make. I also believe that this is the one life that we have, so I will

make the best of it. There is no holy book from which I base my values. I simply will not treat others how I am not prepared to be treated. Moreover, I fear those who expect forgiveness in the face of a wrong they may commit. The way in which I live is up to me and I will have to bear the consequences throughout my life. I feel that this is the best way for anyone to live. I have no other laws except the ones society chooses to put in place, and I obey or disobey them based upon how just I believe

they are and my readiness to deal with the punishment should I choose to disobey them. I also do not “believe” in evolution. I uphold science and the facts behind evolution: It is a

not treated well, a lot married young, and were sometimes one of many wives are some of the main claims. Well, I’m a woman saying I’m treated fantastically by men of my culture. I’m 19 with no intentions to marry before I graduate college, and polygamy in Islam is now at a whopping one percent. Speaking of percentages, 19% of the world identify as Muslims, which is second only to Christianity and its various denominations. So what does being Muslim entail? According to post-September 11th America, it involves random shouting and diabolical plotting in order to maximize death and destruction. Let me just set the record straight. The second someone decides to kill innocent people, whether for Allah or some

other delusional gain, they have committed a major sin and are no longer considered Muslim. They are not revolutionaries, but rather a minority group of ruthless murderers. Muslims believe in one god and follow the

holds you on this earth - which also requires no belief to hold true. To me, Atheism is as simple as waking up in the morning. I have never seen, felt, or been convinced of a higher power or powers which may guide us, so I simply do not believe they exist as one does not believe in Santa, alternate

realities, or ghosts. I have pushed all of my own boundaries on my own, and eventually humankind will push the boundaries of our knowledge and feats not through dogma, but by knowledge and free, determined will. If you ever ask me why exactly I am an Atheist I will echo the words of Stephen Roberts: “I contend that we are both atheists. I just believe in one fewer god than you do. When you understand why you dismiss all the other possible gods, you will understand why I dismiss yours.”


In my life, I’ve said a lot of curse words, had a few drinks, and had sex zero times. Although I am a Muslim, I have a fairly typical lifestyle, minus pork. I was born into this religion, but I also explored my options For me, being a Muslim is almost another part of my culture more than a religion. My decision to stay Muslim was really a process of elimination. The religion didn’t attracted to the unedited aspect. Yes, it’s a little adapted with more current generations. When someone is in the mood to argue with me about up. Some of the main claims are that they were

“Allah” is misconstrued as a different god than that of Christianity or Judaism, but Allah is simply the Arabic word for God. So where and his predecessors Moses and Abraham, he is considered a prophet. The Qur’an, our holy book, tells of all their stories because their actions laid the path for Muhammad and Islam. Another overlapping element of these Abrahamic religions is the headscarf. In Islam, it is called a hijab and it is a choice.

For Jewish women, it is called a tichel and is worn in compliance with a concept called tzniut. Wimples were worn by Christian women in medieval Europe. There’s also nuns, such as Mother Teresa, as well as the Amish, Protestants, some Catholic and Orthodox sects, and Jehovah’s Witnesses. The reason for this head gear, regardless of religion, is the same—exhibiting modesty, privacy, and morality. Being Muslim is an inherent part of my life. It dictates how I approach relationships with my peers, elders, and parents. It makes me proud, but keeps me humble. I’m sure I won’t be keeping Ted Bundy company in the afterlife.











spent most of the summer on my back. Okay, not literally, but I didn’t do much beside sleep all day, read a couple of books, work my shitastic summer job, and most importantly WATCHED ONE OF THE GREATEST TELEVISION SHOWS OF ALL TIME. That’s right ladies and gentlemen I saw one of the greatest television shows of all time. What show is that you ask? Breaking Bad, my dear readers. Motherfucking Breaking Bad. Can I get a holy fuck? This show is fucking amazing and let me tell you why. After a couple of years of listening to raves about the series from a friend and various praise across the interwebz, I finally worked up the strength to grab my remote, press the menu button, click the Netflix icon, and upload the “watch instantly” stream of Breaking Bad. For the record, just to point out to all you naysayers, starting a new television series is a huge investment, of both time and emotions, kind of like the beginning of a new friendship. Am I right? Okay whatever. I started the first season and was a bit turned off by the opening scene of some ginger mustachio’d man wearing nothing






but an apron, a gas mask, and tighty whiteys, driving a trailer at an erratic speed through the New Mexican desert. That was until he speaks into a handheld camera, leaving a message for his wife and son, “I just want you to know that no matter how it may look, I only had you in my heart.” I was forever intrigued. As many may already know, or not know, Breaking Bad is a television series set in the U.S. meth capital, Albuquerque, New Mexico. High school teacher Walter White (played by the stupendous Bryan Cranston) is diagnosed with terminal lung cancer, and to provide for his family, teams up with an ex-high school student of his, Jesse Pinkman, to sell and manufacture crystal meth. Later in the pilot episode, Walter’s life is depicted in a downright pathetic manner. Walter is shown to be an ineffectual chemistry teacher while also working a dead-end job at a local car wash for his asshole boss, just to make ends meet for his family. He is out to be the laughing stock of his family, mostly by his arrogant DEA agent brother-in-law Hank. The pilot is great in the sense that it creates a feeling of genuine pity for a man who is continually getting



screwed over whilst just trying to provide for his family. What I found to be the most captivating aspect about Breaking Bad is the continual transformation of Walter White and the struggle to see things from his point of view as he sheds his moral being and descends into the dark and corrupt world of drug dealing. Walt’s degradation is captivating and intense. The various seasons string together Walt’s involvement with the local Albuquerque drug scene as well as the growth of Walt’s aggression as he struggles to cover up his lies from his family and cover up his tracks from the local DEA agents who are continually after him. The two lead characters are wellrounded and the bounds of their partnership/friendship are continually put to the test as we see them engage in multiple relationships during the course of the series. The onset of his cancer begins to show that his relationship becomes strained with his wife, Skyler, and his son, Walt Jr.. Even the relationship of Jesse, Walt’s partner in crime, relationships become strained with his younger brother, parents, and rehabilitating

girlfriend. These characters are continually thrown into an inferno of stress and we see these characters continually reevaluate their stance on their situation and test the limits (for that matter the viewer’s limits, too). Breaking Bad definitely serves as a television show for those of you who love a well-written television series with equally amazing acting. The story lines are concise and there are no fucking plotholes. NO MAJOR PLOT HOLES! Every question you might be pondering will be answered such as, will Jesse ever come in contact with that one guy he gave crystal meth to in that one episode? YES HE WILL! As you can tell, I am excited about this show. I’ve ranted and raved to all of my friends about it, gotten a few of them to watch it, and gotten a few of them to hate me for talking about it so damn much. Either way, there is no denying that this show is one of the most original television shows on air right now. The season is currently underway on its fifth and final season, which will be premiering in two separate parts. The second half is set to premiere next summer. Make the effort to watch this series; it’s worth your time.


HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER Currently my favorite show on TV is (wait for it) How I Met Your Mother, whose hour long season premiere starts at 8 p.m. on September 24th on CBS. For the past seven years, millions of the shows hardcore fans have tuned in to watch the comedic adventures of Ted Mosby (Josh Randor), a New York City architect who goes through several failed relationships in order to find the girl he is destined to marry. Interestingly enough, the show is narrated by Ted’s future self (never seen and voiced by Bob Saget) as he tells his son and daughter

AMERICA’S NEXT TOP MODEL A fresh crop of college girls makes up the contestant pool for cycle 19 of America’s Next Top Model. Cycle 19 is almost a completely different type of show than we have grown to know and love, or hate, or love to hate. First off, judges Nigel Barker, Jay Manuel, and Miss J. Alexander all got the axe. Yes, basically every familiar face is gone, except for Tyra and her five-head. Former boxer and model Rob Evans, public relations fashion maven Kelly Cutrone, and Katy Perry’s stylist Rob Evans replaced them. Oh, by the way, you, the viewer, are also in on this. A.N.T.M. catapulted into the digital age by including the viewers as a judge, since you can vote and comment on the Facebook page.

PARKS AND RECREATION School is back in session. Thursdays have suddenly become the new Fridays. Like the rest of my peers, I now take part in a college tradition, Thirsty Thursdays. However, before I had to commit to this lifestyle, I used to indulge in another Thursday tradition— NBC’s Must See TV lineup. As a kid, Friends and Will & Grace were my go-to television shows, but even before that, the NBC lineup included comedies like Seinfeld, Cheers, and The Cosby Show, which eventually went on to become classic sitcoms. Now every statistic you’ll find will show that television views are declining in the age of Hulu and Netflix, but the fan bases of popular comedies like The Office and 30 Rock are still thriving, and better yet, still inspiring memes all over websites such as Tumblr and other various corners of the Internet. One of NBC’s more recent Thursday gems is Parks and Recreation, which will be airing its fifth season this fall at 9:30 p.m.


the excruciatingly long yet true story of how he met their mother. The show also explores Ted’s relationships with his four best friends: Marshall (Jason Segel), his roommate from college, Marshall’s wife Lily (Alyson Hannigan), overly confident serial womanizer Barney (Neil Patrick Harris), and Robin (Cobie Smulders), Barney’s on-again, off-again girlfriend and Ted’s ex-girlfriend who provides a crucial, yet undefined role in Ted meeting his future wife. How I Met Your Mother is by far the most entertaining show on television. I have yet to

watch an episode I did not enjoy, and despite being on for so long the series has not lost the fun and spontaneous creativity that made it special in the very beginning. I also like the show because of the mystery involved. While I now know what happens at the end of Harry Potter and how Anakin Skywalker goes to the dark side, How I Met Your Mother gives me the chance to be a huge fan of something with a big unanswered question. But perhaps the biggest reason why I watch How I Met Your Mother is because I see myself as a real life Ted Mosby.

Like Ted, I feel like everyone is far ahead of me relationship wise. I am 24 years old and have never had a girlfriend. I used to think this meant that there was something wrong with me, but after watching How I Met Your Mother, I have learned that there is nothing wrong with being a late bloomer. Knowing that Ted will eventually meet his future wife gives me hope that someone special is right around the corner. And I’m keeping my fingers crossed that it’s someone who enjoys watching How I Met Your Mother as much as I do.

or need. She broke down in tears during a phone call to her beloved mother, and the other girls in the house think, rightfully I might add, that she is completely crazy. Next week’s episode should be just as exciting on Victoria’s part, since during the preview she said, “You bitch? No, I’m a bitch! No, I’m a real bitch!” Keep in mind that she’s a pasty white, skinny 18-year-old who has been homeschooled her entire life and is basically in love with her mom. It’s even funnier to watch, so if you missed the preview, watch next Friday’s episode. Other notable highlights were Yvonne Powless’ nasty leg kick that the judges loved but was actually extremely trashy, Kiara Belen’s confrontation with Destiny Strudwick, when

she accused her of looking like a hooker, and Jessie Rabideau’s elimination. Poor Jessie. She was such a cute, nerdy USC student. It was sad to see her go, but as soon as she left the room after being eliminated, she was told that she is still a part of the competition. Also new this season, those eliminated will still participate in the photo shoots and fan votes will bring back one model later in the season to continue to compete for the title of “America’s Next Top Model.” Jessie definitely has a chance of being that girl to return, since there is a lot of feedback regarding her and her generally loveable personality on the Facebook page.

lukewarm, but with the addition of two sexy men, Rob Lowe (sleazy network exec in Wayne’s World) and Adam Scott (mean guy who sings Sweet Child O’ Mine with his weird family in Step Brothers) at the end of the second season, the series strengthened the overall story line highlighting themes of community, friendship, politics, romance, and waffles. Set in the fictional town of Pawnee, Indiana, Deputy Director Leslie Knope (Amy Poehler) never fails to light up the screen with her sheer sweetness, positivity, and love for her career in local government. Knope’s work relationship and friendship with her boss Ron Swanson (Nick Offerman) balances her perky personality, as his character calmly channels his Libertarian lifestyle, reverence of his outstanding mustache, and dedication to red meat and other manly things. The main characters of the show truly shine, but

what has surprised me is how Parks and Recreation has managed to bring to light the talent and pure comedy of the minor characters, as well as the hilarity, which ensues between all the various characters. For the most part, the relationships are crazed, yet endearing whether you’re watching, “sweet, beautiful Ann,” (Rashida Jones) needing to impress cynical and cruel April (Aubrey Plaza), or the interaction between Tom (Aziz Ansari) and Donna (Retta Sirleaf) during their “Treat Yo-self ” days, the play in which the characters poke fun at the various relationships we randomly gain in life, whether it be at work or school. With the beauty of the Internet, you can still participate in Thirsty Thursdays and catch up with your favorite television shows. Better yet, throw back a shot of Snake Juice, add Parks and Recreation to your Instant Queue, and enjoy what Thursday night has to offer.


Even though the format, judging and main characters have changed this season, the ridiculous antics and drama from the girls in the house is as present as ever. In just two episodes, it is already obvious who will make for laughs and who needs to just get over themselves and leave the competition, because no one wants to see them and they can’t even produce good pictures. Victoria Henley, self-proclaimed momma’s girl from Colquitt, GA, is one of those girls that will hopefully last far into the competition. In last Friday’s episode, she told the girls that she has never had sex or a boyfriend and never plans on having one because her mother provides her with the only relationship she could ever want


What started out as a fun attempt to star SNL comedienne and improv goddess Amy Poehler in a mockumentary style television series has continued to uphold Thursday’s tradition, managing to get better with each season. Most critiques of the show have addressed the unoriginal similarities it has with The Office. After all, it is shot in a single-camera filming style, following the happenings of an overenthusiastic boss and a wide array of employees trying to survive the workday. Despite this, Parks and Recreation offers a more focused approach to each character’s personality development. In addition to that, it has the same silliness and quirky humor of 30 Rock, but viewers can watch it without having to be a complete TV/film/culture snob to understand most jokes written by various Harvard alumni. I’ll be the first to say the first two seasons of Parks and Recreation are somewhat









ertain names are always being thrown around when great authors are discussed: Mark Twain, Emily Dickinson, Charles Dickens, Jane Austen, Upton Sinclair, Kurt Vonnegut, and… Nicole “Snooki” Polizz? NOT! In all seriousness, rarely are the likes of Stephen King, Algernon Blackwood, Dean Koontz, or the almighty Howard Phillips Lovecraft mentioned in mainstream conversations of great authors. This is why the Literature page will take the month of September to honor one of the most underrated literary genres, Science-Fiction: Short stories, book reviews, author highlights and more. The genre is sometimes criticized for being

MIND COLLAPSE Now and then, conversations, or debates to be more precise, of whether Star Trek or Star Wars is better, consume his head. These can last hours. It is a miracle that he excels so much in his studies as he does, with the Enterprise and Millennium Falcon cruising throughout his mind. He is particularly proficient in geometry. Something about it draws him to the subject. He cannot pinpoint what it is. He feels as if he has a relationship with the shapes and angles. He feels as if they call him. His mind may be distracted during class, but when it comes time to study, he is all business. That is why he spends most of his time studying at the local library located in his town of Arkham. One day he wishes to attend his town’s prestigious higher learning institution, Miskatonic University. If he wishes to accomplish this, he must excel in his studies. This is hard when his father relentlessly condemns his interest in math and science. “If you study the Bible half as much as you studied Satan’s theories, there may be a chance for your soul to be saved.” His father tells him every time he tries to study at home. On this day he finds himself in the woods just outside of his school. The library was long overdue for maintenance. Finally, the town had coughed up the cash to fund the library’s needs. This odd location to study was chosen






escapist, which is far from the truth; Science-Fiction plays chicken with reality, and more often than not, wins. That is, in sci-fi literature the truth is sought out and dealt with. Authors such as Philip K. Dick have done just this. Dick has discussed topics of authoritarian government, substance abuse, and more in his literary works. Not just in a theoretical sense, as in most textbooks written by lending theorists, but more in a personal in-your-face sense, forcing the reader to relate. So, sit back, relax and enjoy a month of fantastic Science-Fiction content on behalf of the Union Weekly.


for its seclusion: it was peaceful and quiet. The woods were especially quiet on this day. The kind of stillness that can drive someone mad if exposed to long enough. Dead leaves covered the ground. Sporadic arrangements of trees filled the landscape. Cool air flowed through the woods, as if dancing in and out of the trees. He sat in what seemed to be the middle of it all. Textbooks sprawled out, pencils sharpened, mind open, he began to study. Page after page, problem after problem, working through the assignment with a slick ease he began to have the feeling; the feeling of the shapes calling him, the feeling of him belonging to them. As he reached the end of an especially demanding differential geometry problem he had the urge to sketch his work on the ground before him. Unable to manifest any logical reasoning to the urge, he let the feeling flow through him, assuming he had a choice. From an unidentifiable place within him, from beyond, a gathering of voices cloaked his mind. Slowly the voices went from incoherent gobbledygook to a rhythmic chant. B’GOR CRAEW B’GOR FAEX B’GOR DAER OV D’TH HAES. Consuming, engulfing, growing, the chant infiltrated his mind. B’GOR CRAEW B’GOR FAEX B’GOR DAER OV D’TH HAES. Louder, the chant had now permeated from out of his mind and into the woods.

B’GOR CRAEW B’GOR FAEX B’GOR DAER OV D’TH HAES. From behind the trees, three animals appeared: a crow, a fox, and a deer. Creeping up slowly they sat peacefully around the sketch upon the ground. A ghastly purple glow emanated from the sketch. Each animal seemed to take solace in the glow. He could not understand what was happening. The little space in his mind that he occupied seemed to be on the verge of collapse. Above the sketch in the glow, surrounded by the animals, a figure appeared: a woman. She looked like his mother. It couldn’t be her though; she had died. Her face welcomed him; inviting eyes silently spoke to him. Come see beyond what your eyes could never comprehend, what your mind could not fathom. Taking cautious steps toward the woman his stomach sank a throat tightened. Just as he reached out to the woman she outstretched her arms and opened her mouth. Tentacles began to ooze from her mouth; one by one they swayed back and forth, dripping indeterminate slim. The chant continued. B’GOR CRAEW B’GOR FAEX B’GOR DAER OV D’TH HAES. Upon the crown of her head antlers did protrude. They grew as the tentacles reached for him. Without touching it, they floated about his face, curious, as if studying him. The chant continued.

B’GOR CRAEW B’GOR FAEX B’GOR DAER OV D’TH HAES. Without warning, the tentacles penetrated his oral orifice. The true invasion was not of his physical skull, but the space between his mind and reality, the dormant uninhabited space untouched by humans. In that instant she filled it with insight of what man could have never imagined and dwelled in the recess referred to as space and time. The chant continued. B’GOR CRAEW B’GOR FAEX B’GOR DAER OV D’TH HAES. His mind collapsed. The animals stood and retreated back to where they came. The glow faded, so did the beastly female figure. The chant ceased. The following Sunday, the church his father attended held a service for him. As the congregation exited the church of the service, the Reverend approached his father. “Your son was something special. He could have been a great man in this world, so powerful.” His father replied, “I just wish he had spent more time with our Lord. I am not sure his soul is where it belongs.” The Reverend placed his hands on his father’s shoulder. “I assure you he rests with our father.” The Reverend shut the doors of the church. He turned and made his way the empty pews to his podium. The chant continued. B’GOR CRAEW B’GOR FAEX B’GOR DAER OV D’TH HAES.




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DISCLAIMER: It’s barely been the first week, but boy am I sa-tired. I wish I had a better joke or pun to put in this thing this week, but to hell with everything. To hell with school, to hell with this weather, and to hell with my sweaty chapped thighs! We do not represent ASI, nor do we represent the CSULB campus. Email the Duchess at

“Kool Katz, Kool Katz, Kool Katz”

Volume 71 Issue 2

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

FOSTER CHILD CREATES “PERFECT” PARENTS, FINDS HOPE There is often a point in one’s life when there seems to be only two options: succumb to hardship or rise above it and create a new destiny. Thir teen-year-old BY SCRIBBLE BIBBLE Jerry Winkle chose the latter when he decided in late May to change his living situation in order to escape the clutches of one foster family after another. the tilt-a-whirl, never to be seen again. His mother spiraled into a crippling gambling addiction and unemployment, leaving little Winkle all alone. Foster care was no better. There, between court hearing and frequent “I just wanted to go back to my mother,” Winkle said. “I really didn’t mind giving her my lunch money so she could try to hit the big one. Honest.” But as time went on, Winkle’s mother made less effort to win him back, until eventually he had no other choice but to lose hope in her. “It was a dark time,” Winkle said. “I spent a lot of time sleeping in the bushes in front of my best friend Jojo’s house It was a Jojo’s house that Winkle tried being his favorite food. “The food was good, but I was fascinated with the chopsticks used to


YOU GO, GIRL!!!!!!

eat the delicacy. I knew I could use these for something, so I tried using them for different things, claws and walrus teeth, the ends into points so I could start knitting,” Winkle said. And knit he did. He taught himself how to k1, p1 to create any type of pattern, shape and form. Once he grew bored of knitting scarves, beanies and socks, he tried to make something with more feeling, more “I saw Zooboomafoo and thought that if someone could make a puppet come to life then why can’t I knit myself a family? Then I tried and it worked,” Winkle said. It took him six years, but Winkle did knit his family. His dad was a massive, 6 feet, 4 inches tall, and his mom a petite, curvy woman with curly brown hair. Winkle even knitted that little sister and Labrador puppy he always wanted. “Life is perfect,” Winkle said. “We live together in a cottage by the river. I knit everything we need…couches, beds, even a refrigerator.” Now Winkles home is in danger. Local

A few days from now, current President Barack Obama will give a speech at the Democratic National Convention and I feel 70% sure that BY SURELY FÜNKE he won’t address anything relevant to the modern woman. For several months now I’ve felt like my interests, politically and socially, were getting swept under an avalanche of speeches, stupidity, and general pre-election idle promises. You would expect, with all the gaffes done by several members of both sides of the political spectrum, that there would be some dialogue started from the major players from both sides. But there was nothing.

area home to evict Winkle from his current location. Tim Daily, spokesperson for the California Sanitation Department, told us that the main reason is his location. The house, which isn’t actually a house, is just a stack of cardboard cereal boxes stolen from a local elementary school stacked 3 feet high held together by rat tails and several jars of urine as the river.

When Akin came out with his “legitimate rape” comments, I was hoping that something would happen from that but all I got from either Obama or Romney was just reactionary rhetoric that you would expect when something of that nature happens. You would think that after years of being ignored and pigeonholed into believing that this was the life I was destined to live, that I would be forced into choosing the lesser of two evils, but I’m not. Even as I write this I know my ideas will probably be surrounded by things that are not relevant to anything, all just to continually ignore what anyone has to say. It’s frustrating. When will the day come that I, a female of sound mind and convictions, will be able to have a say in things important to me. Honestly, it’s like I’m surrounded by idiots. Fuck it. Maybe I’ll be listened to in four years.


STUDENT WAITS IMPATIENTLY FOR CHRISTIANS TO INVITE HIM TO BIBLE STUDY Tyler Surnam, senior, continues to wait impatiently for CSULB's resident campus Christians to come invite him to bible study so he can repent from a lifetime of wickedness and evil and devote his life to Jesus. "What do I have to do to get them to notice me?" laments Tyler, who has spent every day for the last 6 months sitting and waiting for Christians, "I've tried in front of the library, the hallway by the liberal arts buildings, the quad, the bus stop…I've tried being on my cellphone or being clearly busy working on something and not wanting to be bothered—I've tried everything!" The young and open-to-new-ideas man fears that if he is not approached soon, he will have no basis on which to judge others or fear his own sexuality. Tyler was recently issued a restraining order after camping out in front of a Church of Latter Day Saints for several days demanding that they come up to his door while he was in the middle of doing something and share the Book of Mormon with him. "Yeah…I know all about Tyler," said Denise Christian, leader of the First Long Beach Bible Study of Christ, "Can't say I'm looking forward to spending an eternity with him…let's just not and say we did. God will understand."

“Shrimp’s my life, it’s now or never” —Bon Jovi on change to Prawn Jovi

Clint Eastwood Convinces Chair to be Randy Jackson on American Idol

Organic Worth  

Purchasing Meals From the Ground Up