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Managing Editor

GABE FERREIRA Managing Editor






Senior Editor

Opinions Editor News Director

Entertainment Editor Literature Editor

COLLEEN BROWN Culture Editor

ROSE FEDUK Comics Editor



Grunion Editor

Art Director/Cover



Illustration Editor Photo Editor


On-Campus Distribution


Advertising Executive



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, ASI, or of 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.

Questions? Comments? Mail: 1212 Bellflower Blvd., Suite 116, Long Beach,CA 90815 Phone: 562.985.4867 Fax: 562.985.8161 E-mail: Web:



ey there ladies and gents, welcome to the first official installment of Vin’s Two ‘Cents. This space is reserved for my musings for the week, as well as complaints and/ or praise you might have for the paper. There’s even room for jokes, but not in this first issue. There will be no jokes from here on out, so proceed with cunt troll. Now, our newest readers may not be familiar with the Union, so let me take a moment tell you what we’re all about. The Union Weekly strives for that sweet spot of thought provoking and charmingly hilarious. We like to amuse our readers just as much as we like to provoke them. Think of us as a friendly throttling, a familiar set of hands that exist to shake some well-intentioned funny and knowledge into you. The Union is also all about looking out for our own. That’s why this week’s feature (pgs. 7-9) offers our readers a slew



of creative yet completely illegal methods for paying their ever-increasing tuition. We also have another money saving opportunity in the form of ASI president and vice president John Haberstroh and Jon Bolin’s (affectionately known as the Johns) textbook scholarship. You can read Bolin’s informative yet witty column on page six. He’s going to be a fixture in our paper, so get used to him. And my advice to any reader who has a spark of interest in writing, illustration, photography, or humor is to come to our first open meeting this Tuesday at 7pm. I’m not supposed to tell you this, but I feel like I can trust you. Truth is, we are criminally understaffed here at the Union. If you look closely at our Contributors list, you will see a measly number of writers and artists, which means a majority of our content was created by our editorial staff. Besides putting an ulcer-inducing amount of stress on our editors, illustrators, and

sole photographer, it means our pool of talent is considerably limited. Hence our intense desire to have you come down to the office and give us a try. We want you. That may scare you, but again, it’s the truth. We want you, that is, if you’re willing to take the time to create something you’re proud of. So come on down to our weekly open meetings, meet the editors, awkwardly shake our clammy hands, and talk at our strange faces. If you like what you see, stick around. Because that is the secret to the Union: stick around. Embed yourself deep into the fabric of the office carpet like a tick and we won’t be able to shake you. Ask Away!

I like you, and you really seem to like me. So drop me a line at vincha.union@ and let me know what you think of out first issue. Or don’t. But you should, so do it.

SHITTY JOBS THAT SUCK REJECTED JOBS TO PAY TUITION Shine Shiner Shoe Cobbler Egg Donor Carton of Eggs Donor Robert Goulet Impersonator Food Taster Pencil Sharpener Hype Girl Gimp Gas Station Bathroom Attendant Pin-up Boy Organ Donor Organ Grinder Fluffer Seal Clubber (the animal) Seal Clubber (the singer) Writer of Precious: Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire: The Musical!

Crypt Keeper Honey Badger Wrangler Hamburgler Selena Gomez Fan Club President Mommy Blogger Goop Founder Card Captor Yu-gi-oh Trading Card Champion Magician’s Assistant Kissing Booth Operator Jynx Impersonator Toll Troll Cunt Troll Over Analyzer Pet Party Planner Kielbasa Farmer Gym Buddy Gay Hobo

“Legitimate” Rapist Waffle Maker Goulash Goblin Chatroom Wingman Editor-in-Queef Garbage Queen Headphone Detangler Browsing History Deleter Mongoose Shampoo Boy Funeral Entertainer Romney’s Money Concealer Lamenter Adult Clown Ass Haver Holocaust Pun Creator Sock Pairer Sad Sack Human Shoe Horn UNION WEEKLY

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ony Scott, Phyllis Diller, Neil Armstrong: all celebrities in their own right and all dead within days of each others demise. Pop culture legend says that when celebrities die, they die in groups of three, and the evidence from the obituaries of recent years merely serves to support the seemingly ridiculous lore that has been around since Hollywood’s golden age. Many examples are easily recalled or searchable, but a recent example is the trio of deaths in 2009 that included the passing of Farrah Fawcett, Ed McMahon, and most notably because of the media circus that followed, Michael Jackson. The Hollywood folktale of the rule of three is similar to the 27 club that is wellknown in the music industry. This group is no S Club 7, but rather a group of talented musicians who have died at the young age

of 27 due to issues with drugs and alcohol. Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison, Kurt Cobain, and Amy Winehouse are all prominent members of this morbid union of music stars. My mentions of two of the more melancholic attributes of Hollywood lead me to ask why we feel the need to explain any phenomena with stories, legends, or anything that seems worthy of headline material for The National Enquirer. No one likes to be left in the dark, and as humans it is natural for us to seek out answers where there seemingly are none. Society has a tendency to try to connect dots that do not even need to be connected in the first place. It’s a fallacy and a farce to assume that because similar events occur within days of each other that they are related. Because the death of a well-known and beloved


This goes out to the ladies out there who are having a tough time being away from their boyfriend as we speak. Oh, and not to mention the boys who spend their time simpering over their “princesses” and “babies.” We all break up to get back together. It’s commonly known as the cycle of life, something we’ve all experienced at one point or another. Besides, this petty annoyance that seems so natural is the not-so-natural desire to breathe your counterpart’s air, to know where they are at all times, and to be glued to your phone day in and day out waiting for a single text message even if you see them every minute, of every hour, of every day. We get it, you’re “in love.” Love, in all its glory, can be quite gruesome. There is a fine line between being in love and being obsessed. Yes, ladies and gentleman, if you haven’t gotten the clue, I am referring to infamous clingy couples. We’ve all seen them, heard them, dealt with them, and I doubt any of these encounters were anything less than annoying. I understand it as far as being in communication throughout the day with your boyfriend or girlfriend and/or wanting to see them after class or on the weekends. Although to some degree this is completely normal, there are those who



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can’t seem to function if they are deprived of contact with their “loved” one for more than a minute. I myself am completely puzzled. I cannot seem to wrap my head around what it is that causes these individuals to latch onto their counterpart like leeches, sucking the life out of the relationship and of those around them. If this is pertaining to some type of insecurity, I am at a loss for words. Most of these clingy couples have been dating for two plus years. After being with the same person for two years or more, I would think there would be a sense of trust in the relationship. If this is not the case, then you should really fuckin’ reevaluate your whole relationship and consider your many other options. First off, if your boyfriend or girlfriend wanted to cheat on you and go off gallivanting into the night having sex with whoever it may be, you’d think they’d have done it already. Second off, if you can’t trust the person you spend most of your time with and claim to be in love with, then who can you trust? Ladies, get a grip! These actions are far less than attractive, if not the opposite. Guys, please give her some breathing room. She’ll be fine with or without you. Let’s hope, for your sake, it’s with you.

director, comedienne, and astronaut occur within the same time period, it should not have to imply that a rule of whatever number you pull out of your ass applies or that the club of young talent tragically gone to waste due to substance abuse has come to claim another member. Call me a spoilsport or whatever else comes to mind, but an explanation is due before any name-calling begins. Truthfully, the idea of supernatural and otherworldly forces controlling and hanging over the perfectly groomed heads of the divas and douchebags of Hollywood is appealing. I’m a sucker for fairy tales, mythical creatures, Harry Potter, urban legends, paranormal activity, and all the rest of that geeky jazz. If I could have the opportunity to find the Loch Ness monster and keep her as a pet, or could go on a paranormal investigation

with a crew of ghostbusters, I would jump at the chance. It was only as of late that I began not to question my unsteady belief in the bizarre but rather why these explanations are applied to certain phenomena in the first place. People die every day, so why does the rule of three apply? Why didn’t we include Jerry Nelson, the voice of the vampire who taught us how to count, in the rule of three and make it a quartet? Plenty of 27-year-olds with talents worthy of mainstream fame die before they reach their peak, so why don’t we include them in the 27 club as well? My point is that shit happens. Overanalyzing and overthinking never lead to any good, but rather paranoia, psychosis, depression, and a number of other unnecessary things. Things go unexplained all the time and sometimes, it’s just fine to leave things as they are.



My iPhone is my best friend. I take it out to check my latest Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram notifications. Being obsessed with Apple, I even take out my iPhone to check out the latest products being introduced. I could be seen twiddling my thumbs over my iPhone screen in class while Steve Jobs was presenting the next iPhone in one of his mesmerizing keynotes before his death. Let’s get this straight: I love technology. I also have come to the realization that the more gadgets Apple or any other electronic company releases, the more society tends to lean on large corporations to gain simplicity in life. One of the benchmark gadgets that almost all of Silicon Valley and other phone manufacturers have produced is the smartphone. The smartphone revolutionized the telephone and cellular phones as we know them to be. A smartphone has more distinct features that are designed to make it “smarter” than

its predecessors. A user can now access the internet, listen to music, and even talk to their phone all by controlling the simple touchscreen user interface that most smartphones were born with. It is easy to say that we can put our smartphones down but it is actually harder to do with how realiant today’s society is technology. The more I find students on campus, or ordinary people on the street with their smartphones out, the more I feel too insecure about living in this kind of society. Don’t get me wrong; I would die without my iPhone but I feel like I am sometimes too attached to my lover. I rely on it most of the time, looking up words in the app instead of looking in an actual dictionary to search for a word’s meaning. I sometimes even text my friends to tell them I am waiting outside in my car instead of going to knock on their door. The point is that I rely on my smartphone too much and I feel like most

smartphone users do too. Civility is also a key issue in this topic. We are slowly losing our manners and our politeness. Sometimes my friends are on their smartphones checking for texts or Facebook notifications while I am trying to have an important conversation with them. All I want to do is to tell them to put their fucking phone down. Even at the dining table people still text and chat with other people online instead of focusing on the presence of others. Another uncivil memento I have come to find is that some students on campus don’t always show a patch of kindness either. You can find many students on their smartphones and/or laptops “taking notes” while an educator is speaking. I find it especially rude because professors commute to school thinking that their students are listening to what they have to say. Don’t get me wrong, I can be uncivil sometimes due to my excessive use

of technology. I am just revealing the ramifications of the situations we place ourselves in by relying heavily on technology. Smartphones are truly the gateway drug of society. It is scary that maybe one day we will find ourselves solely communicating over text instead of communicating vocally. We will probably also rely on technology to do other things for us. I also say that some day we may even be doomed just because our excessive technology use will make our society uncivil. If this ever happened, it would happen in a slow manner as we progress into the future. Today, we have cars taking us places instead of using our own two feet, we have TVs to keep us entertained instead of getting entertained by the presence of others, and we have smartphones to keep us updated on the latest 411. Technology is a good and bad thing. It just depends on how much you want it to control your life.


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aked Juice, the manufacturer of delicious, natural, vegan fruit juices that prides itself on not using artificial flavors, added sugars, or preservatives, has been found to be in support of a Monsanto-led campaign to beat Proposition 37, a ballot initiative in California to label genetically modified organisms (GNOs). Reports that PepsiCo, owner of Naked Juice, has donated approximately $1.7 million to Monsanto’s campaign efforts have surfaced in recent weeks. Coca-Cola, who owns Honest Tea, Odwalla and Simply Orange have donated another $1 million. Naked Juice’s purpose is to “obtain to sustainability and good health,” so it is contradictory to support Monsanto. The hypocrisy surrounding the greed of Naked Juice and other similar corporations is that they are donating major money to oppose GMO labeling in California.



Anyone familiar with the documentary Food Inc. (I’m assuming most are, because I have seen it in about three classes at our fine institution) knows that Monsanto is evil. Monsanto is the company that is in control of the corporate takeover of a patented seed supply. When farmers buy Monsanto’s seeds, they have to sign a contract stating they are no longer able to save any of the seeds from their crops to plant for the next harvest season. Saving seeds has been a common practice for thousands of years, but Monsanto forbids farmers to do it, forcing them to buy new seeds from the company every year. Naturally (no pun intended), as a vegetarian/vegan consumer, I found Naked Juice to be a nutritiously satisfying energy boost when I’m too busy to make my own food. Seriously, a large bottle of that stuff can nearly suffice as a meal. It’s horrible to know that the one healthy drink I can buy

at my local liquor store is now in bed with the enemy (pun intended). If Prop 37 is approved by voters, it will require labeling on raw or processed food offered for sale to consumers if the product has been made from plants or animals with genetic material that was altered in any way and also prohibit labeling or advertising of food as “natural.” I, for one, stand behind Prop 37 because the consumer deserves to know what is inside the food they consume. GMO pesticides have been linked to birth defects, disruption of male hormones and even cancer. I mean, it’s only your body and potential offspring’s well-being at stake. Of course there will be the misinformed people who could care less and will eat GMO products knowing the side effects, but no amount of clothing can cover the damage Naked Juice will spread if Prop 37 does not get passed.


Aida’s University Bookstore, after an identity crisis and sudden disappearance, ceases to exist on the corner of Clark Avenue and Los Coyotes Diagonal. The beloved bookstore where CSULB students trying to save a buck or two frequented did change its name to Dana K a while back, but I still, and forevermore will, refer to it as “Aida’s.” Maybe this is old news, but every store deserves to have a nice little article written about it for posterity to read and remember it by. Or, rather, it could be used to imagine the life they could’ve lived shopping for used textbooks. In that spirit, the general ambiance of Aida’s was inviting, and the aisles upon aisles of affordably priced books made



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you want to splurge and buy books off the “recommended” list with the money you saved. Okay, you may not have saved that much money, but it’s nice to have a couple extra bucks tucked in your back pocket. Although the building that used to house Aida’s is now harboring some sort of medical practice, her spirit is said to currently reside near LBCC. This is a flagrant disregard to the needs of broke, carless CSULB students that would rather not make such a commute. But this is supposed to be a positive account of the life of Aida’s. So back to that. I tried to like this new location. I tried to visit it. But I failed. I’ve never actually seen this new shop, but there are numerous websites that tell tales of its existence. And

if it’s on the Internet, it must be true. The main flaw I’ve found with these sites is the phone number posted. The number (562-425-1100, for those of you brave enough to give it a try) never works! The Facebook and Twitter accounts for the store, which has fully adopted it’s new name, Dana K, haven’t been updated in months. There are even a few comments from other disgruntled potential shoppers about the faulty phone number. If Aida’s is, in fact, open near LBCC, it is decidedly too far to make the savings worthwhile. In that spirit, I will consider the store dead and buried. Flowers may be sent to 4162 Norse Way, Long Beach, CA 90808, the address of the new location, again, if it exists.

Welcome back to The Beach, 49ers! The Union Weekly has been kind enough to give us a biweekly spot in their wonderful newspaper. The Union Weekly is written by the students, for the students. For those of you who are new to CSULB, we are your radical, socialist, left-minded Associated Students, Inc. President John Haberstroh and Vice President Jonathon Bolin. You may be asking yourself, “What the hell is ASI and why should I read this shitty column twice a month?” That’s a great question! ASI is our student government on campus and has a $15 million budget. We are responsible for putting on events, advocating for student rights, and supporting students’ needs. There are five executives in ASI Government: ourselves, Jose Espeleta (Treasurer), Jorge Soriano (Chief of Staff), and Irving Barcenas (Chief Programming Officer). We are here to serve you in any way you wish. It’s sort of like we are your fairy godparents (our wands even sparkle). Come to our offices and bother us. Bother us anytime. Seriously. We like to be hot and bothered. We want your suggestions, questions, comments, criticism, ideas, etc. Our offices are in the USU, third floor, room 311. Come visit. John & I have created a scholarship fund and we want all to apply! Our first scholarship is a $200 textbook scholarship. Eight scholarships are available. Apply at The last day to apply is Sept. 19. You apply online and you can do it during your break from classes. We are also hosting biweekly townhall meetings at The Nugget throughout the year. This event will be named ‘#Real_Talk w/ John & Jon.’ We even put a hashtag in front of it to make it hip. Hip. Hipstagram. Twihipper. Hipmlr ... Anyway, this month of September, #Real_Talk w/ John & Jon will be hosted on Sept. 19 at 2 p.m. Be there. This will be a chance for students to TELL us what they WANT. We cannot wait to serve you up a hot plate of awesome this year. We have a great ASI government team and we are extremely excited. Please feel free to contact me anytime with ideas, questions, etc. Have a great first two weeks! GO BEACH! The opinions expressed here are the authors’ opinions alone and do not reflect the opinions of ASI, ASI government, or CSULB in any way.



I’ve always been told that necessity is the mother of invention, and it took me two years in college to understand the truth and practicality of this saying. Being broke has to be one of the worst feelings I’ve ever experienced, but that’s what it took for me to re-evaluate the importance of my pride and dignity and search for alternative sources of income. The solution I found not only pleases tree-huggers, municipal waste collectors, and fraternity douchebags alike; it also guarantees a weekly income and a passport to any social event your loser self ever wanted to attend.



If you’re looking to make money, I’ll tell you exactly what the scary man who lives under a tarp by Del Taco told me: “Rickshaws are the future.” Indeed, after pulling around people on a little wooden cart for hours, your pockets will be so full of quarters that you’ll be able to buy approximately seventy million sticky-hands (trust me, I did the math on that one.) What’s the secret, you ask? Making other people do it for you. It’s a little of that “Tom Sawyer tricking you into whitewashing a fence” school of thought where you get complete morons to think

Start out by finding a party. Then, ignore the fact that you’re supposed to socialize with those clowns; grab a heavy-duty black trash bag and start collecting the recyclables. Load your car with the trash bags as you fill them with precious loot. By the end of the night, you’re likely to have $30 worth of backwash-infested alcohol containers, but who cares? That’s lunch money for a week! If that weren’t enough, your name will spread like wildfire, and within weeks you will know about more parties than the entire campus combined. For bonus points (and cash), photograph the wasted attendees and use it as blackmailing material.

that a certain task is more fun than those spinny propeller hats, when in reality it’s more unpleasant than realizing you find Alec Baldwin attractive (circa 30 Rock, NOT Beetlejuice Alec Baldwin). Simply tell your employees that after every mile that they travel, the tinfoil hats they’ll be wearing (mandatory company attire) will shoot microwave signals into space that’ll bounce off the rings of Neptune and ricochet right into the mainframe of their bank’s computers, thereby causing a critical error that will generate tens of thousands of real, actual dollars. At least, that’s what I told the guy who lives under a tarp, and he’s still working for me.


Lady Gaga didn’t write a song about the paparazzi for nothing. She did it to breathe life into the dying celebrity tabloid business. So why not take advantage of her hard work? If you’re looking for a simple way to make money, then there’s nothing easier than chasing celebrities for the coveted crotch shot or nip slip. Now you may be thinking that no celebrities ever visit our humble campus. On the contrary, CSULB has had quite the repertoire of celebrity guests. There’s been Ke$ha, the Dalai Lama, Justin Bieber. Okay, I

may have made up that last one after realizing that many people don’t know who Lou Reed is, one of the most influential pioneers of 1960’s rock music. But back to Ke$ha. All it takes is one great shot of this pop star/garbage monster crawling out of a trashcan with a bottle of Jack and boom! No more worrying about next semester’s tuition. Whether it was an ex, a crush, a distant cousin, or all three, everybody has experience with stalking people. Draw upon those experiences of hiding around corners and following a safe distance behind their car and you’ll be rolling in dough in no time. And remember, anyone can become paparazzi, just promise you’ll be kind.




Have you ever wished for an easy and lucrative career? Have you ever wished to be in a position of power, one that allowed you the privilege of fancy hats? Have you ever encountered this many questions? Ever? Well good, because I got a proposition for you. If you need the big bills to pay for class, but all your toils and struggles and hard work

actually amount to nothing, why not take up the extremely rewarding yet also deadly but mostly satisfying activity of hashing hash? Pushing pills? Dishing the doobies? Hocking the heroin? What is he spewing, you may ask? I’m talking about drugs people! It’s the easiest and least consequential choice for those who need class texts and are also poor decision makers. You can easily make up to five billion dollars in a single sitting! It is that easy! Seriously!!!




n quintessentially queer style, the Scissor Sister’s approach to promoting their fourth studio album Magic Hour, has offered their fans a buffet of comedy gems. For one, they’ve shot a

1. Let’s have a kiki

5. I’m gonna let you have it



charmingly cheesy infomercial starring Josh Homme (lead singer of Queens of the Stone Age) that begins playing when you visit their website. They’ve also dished out a delicious music video

for their unofficial single “Let’s Have a Kiki.” In their words, a kiki, “is a party for calming all your nerves,” and not to be confused with the drag term kai kai, which we all know describes the act of

two drag queens engaging in a sexual act. We’ve broken down the dance featured in the music video so you can practice at home, in a dentist’s office, or a subway platform.

2. I want to have a kiki

3. Lock the doors tight

4. Let’s have a kiki motherfucker

6. Let’s have a kiki

7. Dive, turn, work

8. We’re gonna serve and work and turn, honey

her style and music ultimately comes off as a blithe endeavor that’s embodied by her carefree mermaid persona. Because of an inescapable presence that can’t help but draw more and more attention to her music, the former Miss Bank$ has snagged some enviable gigs in what can only be described as a domino effect. From performing on day two of each weekend of this year’s sold out Coachella festival in the sweltering hellhole of Indio to being one of the most praised acts during last weekend’s Reading Festival in the UK, Banks has gained an ever-amassing group of followers. Earlier

this year, she joined forces with the Scissor Sisters and was featured on “Shady Love”, a track from the band’s fourth album that the rising Harlem rapper was uncredited for. More recently, confirmation surfaced that she will be collaborating with Lady Gaga as well as with Kanye West on projects that are yet to be announced. On the title track of her mixtape, Fantasea, she states, “Ever since I was an embryo, I had magic flow.” With the way that fans are being drawn to her music like flies are to honey, Banks is sure to entrance listeners with her fantasea months to come.


Twenty-one, hailing from Harlem, and with more sass than most of her musical predecessors, Azealia Banks is just as she proclaims herself to be: “I’m the one today, I’m the new shit, boo.” With a rapid-fire style and a sharp flow that weaves between electronic beats and ethereal rhythms, the listener becomes enveloped in the underwater mermaid fantasealand that Banks has crafted not just for her fans but also for herself. Her unapologetic rap music oozes with a swagger that seems so natural in comparison to much of the overdone weed and gangster rap that’s in



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the mainstream nowadays. She gives her modern male counterparts some sizable competition by crafting an aural style that is embodied by her fashion sense and in-your-face, in-vogue music videos. The bad bitch mantra of her music is reflected by a fashion sense that can only be defined as Barbie gone bad; her hemlines and cut-outs are reminiscent of the sexier fashions of the Spice Girls during their heyday, while the outlandishness of her style brings to mind the androgynous glam rock flair of David Bowie’s alter ego, Ziggy Stardust. Despite all of the embellishments,






he constantly increasing price of movie tickets, new digital services such as Netflix, and other cable/ satellite providers that make it easier to watch recently released films from the comfort of your own home, not many people make the choice to commute to the movie theater. Even when you make the choice to go, there are desperate “support your movie theater” commercials that run before most film trailers at major movie theater chains. These commercials are basically corporate propaganda that blatantly say you must go to their movie theater, pay their ever-increasing

movie ticket prices, and buy a bunch of overpriced candy and popcorn. Early this summer, the devastating tragedy that occurred in Aurora, Colorado discouraged some movie-goers from making that commute to the one place many of us look to as a space to let our guard down, let our imaginations flow, and escape from the realities of the day. There is also a debate about many movie chains switching over to digital formats. This decision outdates the classic 35mm film, which has been the medium that films have been shot, edited and viewed for more than 100 years. While the digital format is

now used as a cheaper and more democratic option for filmmakers and audiences alike, the 35mm option is a much more soughtafter option for cinephiles because of its tangible, transient quality. Local independent movie theater chains in Los Angeles, such as the ArcLight, the Landmark, and Laemmle, have made it more accessible to stay true to the art of filmmaking. Here, there is no hidden agenda, no tacky commercials; just three film trailers and the film itself. As an avid fan of cinema, I usually make the commute to these theaters because most of what is playing at the huge mega-plex theater

down the street from me is just some massproduced Hollywood byproduct. I know the commute to these can get costly. Being a broke college student myself, I cannot always make the pilgrimage to my favorite independent film chain. However, the Art Theater in Long Beach is a great alternative that screens one recently released (usually independent, sometimes not) film on a weekly basis and it is only a short (free) bus or bike ride away from campus. With all that being said, I did go to the movies this summer and I saw some excellent and not-so-excellent work:

for the past year. Together the two flee their small town, which prompts a local search party to seek them out. The two kids are outcasts from society, Sam is an orphan and Suzy, whose parents think she’s emotionally disturbed, is the child of emotionally unavailable parents. The two kids see each other for who they are. At its core, Moonrise Kingdom is a story of innocence and the innate ability humans have to love and be loved. The two kids found solace in one another.

Their urging need to escape made them all the more relatable. The incredible attention to detail and atmosphere is the signature of Wes Anderson, allowing his films to contain both substance and style. Headlined by newcomers Jared Gilman and Kara Hayward, the film is backed with an allstar cast including Bruce Willis, Edward Norton, Bill Murray, Frances McDormand, Tilda Swinton and Jason Schwartzman.

MOONRISE KINGDOM Moonrise Kingdom is Wes Anderson’s latest and best work to date. Of course it features several now cliché Wes Anderson moments such as wide-angle tracking shots, French influences, the unlikely protagnonist, deadpan humor, and overall quirkiness, but what captured me was the innocent story of two children on the brink of adolescence who experience love for the first time. Sam is a Khaki Scout at a summer camp in a small New England town. One night he escapes to meet Suzy, the girl he has sought

PROMETHEUS Last spring I spent a lot of time watching the evasive viral videos that were spread online as a publicity campaign for Ridley Scott’s latest film, Prometheus. At the time, the film looked very promising and equally so because it had large shoes to fill. Although I do not want to take a total shit on this film, because the sci-fi element and cinematography were amazing, I do feel that Ridley Scott took things over the edge with this one. As the original Alien film felt small and claustrophobic with narrow dark

hallways, Prometheus felt large and inviting with more light and widespread landscapes. The fatal flaw of this film was that too many themes were tossed around; the film got lost within itself trying to tackle ideas of creation, evolution, gender roles, free will, religion and then ultimately the point of life itself. It should have eliminated a few of these and picked one or two ideas to dive deeper into. Another flaw was the lack of characterization of major characters for the sake of the plot.

Like I previously mentioned, it was aesthetically beautiful and the little baby alien squirm worthy moments made me smile. Alone, this film might have stood a chance, but when you market yourself with the Alien franchise there is no choice but to be overly critical, especially with the director who helped create this genre in the first place. Even with a strong cast of Michael Fassbender, Noomi Repace, Charlize Theron, Guy Pearce, Logan Marshall-Green, and Idris Elba, it was a bummer.

COSMOPOLIS David Cronenburg’s latest thriller is a real return to form for the director. Cosmopolis really shows what Robert Pattison has to offer as an actor other than sparkling in the sun. The film also stars Juliette Binoche, Sarah Gadon, Samantha Morton, Mathieu Amalric, Jay Baruchel and Paul Giamitti. The film incorporates a captivating tone of darkness and absurdity. Adapted from the 2003 novel by Don Delillo, set in the not too distant future, Robert Pattison

plays Eric Packer, a billionaire who made his money by manipulating the markets. As he is chauffeured around town to get a haircut, he anxiously sets the Chinese yuan exchange rate, killing his bets against it. As an outsider looking at life through his limousine, Packer is a man trying to control the ever-falling world around him, but unlike Edward the vampire, Packer is human and everything falls apart. The film taps into our dark and troubled financial

times, not by necessarily criticizing the rich, but by showing the privileged as highly sheltered humans who, like the rest of us, have ideas, sweat, get hungry, get tired, crave sex and feel pain. In a distorted, fucked up way, of course. Not necessarily the easiest film to digest, but it will leave your mind perplexed at the end, that is, if you’re into that sort of film. You will leave the theater remembering this: “My prostate is asymmetrical. What does that mean?” UNION WEEKLY

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my parents what “fuck” meant, and they promptly answered, “The F-word can be used as a verb, meaning ‘to have sex.’ Sex is when a man sticks his penis in a woman’s vagina. They do this sometimes only because it feels good.” I immediately responded with disgust and gross facial expressions, proclaiming that I would never, ever be doing that. They


For some reason still unbeknownst to me, as a kid, my mother enforced a nosock policy whenever I went to sleep. Her reason was, if I fell asleep with my socks on, all of my energy would be stuck inside my body like a vacuum with too much dirt and hair clogging its sucking tubes. If I took my socks off, my energy would escape out my toes. I never considered the thin piece of cloth’s magical ability to entrap energy, it just was. Now, socks induce a sort of suffocating straitjacket feeling inside me, which is okay in the eyes of the current sockless loafer fad.


It wasn’t my fault that when I was growing up I loved the taste of toothpaste. Its ability to make my mouth feel fresh and clean. I couldn’t help but suck down copious amounts of the mintyfresh delicacy every night when I was supposed to be brushing my teeth. Then, one terrible day, my mother caught me in the act. She snatched the tube from my hand and barked, “If you keep eating toothpaste it’s going to eat a hole through your stomach and you’ll die!” Tears streamed down my face as I imagined how it must feel to die as your innards drip out of a hole in your stomach.



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laughed and suggested that later on, I might change my mind. This was pretty typical of my childhood. My parents took a fairly honest approach to raising me, believing that it was better to answer my questions with straightforward responses. They preferred that I get factual information from them on serious or awkward topics regardless of my age, lest I pick up false information elsewhere

from friend circles or internet pages. I had a basic understanding of sex, drugs, pornography, alcohol, and a myriad of other “inappropriate” topics by the time I was done with elementary school thanks to my folks, and I feel all the better for that. To this day, there is really no such thing as a taboo in our household. But the older I got, the more I realized how atypical this was. Most parents make up wacky shit to tell their

kids when it’s a heavy topic, or complicated subject matter. I really can’t understand why any parent would intentionally confuse the hell out of their children by giving them false information, but it does lead to some hilarious stories later when you realize how silly you were to believe the crazy stuff your parents told you. Compiled below are some of the ridiculous lies the adults in our lives told us growing up.





When I was 6, I thought sticking my arm, or my head, out of the window was the coolest thing to do in a car. I would imagine I was a dog, and I would try to make my

According to my beloved aunt, tobacco is not the most harmful substance your lungs can come in contact with. Instead, one should be careful of swallowing bubble gum. Yes, bubble gum will get stuck to the outer walls of your lungs as it goes down your throat! Never mind the fact that the digestive system isn’t physically connected with the lungs. Over time, swallowed gum will accumulate in your respiratory organs, obstruct your trachea, and keep your lungs from contracting and expanding properly. Don’t be a fool and follow her advice; after all, retired marketing representatives are notorious for their knowledge of the human body.

or imagine I was in a giant centrifuge, testing my tolerance to g-forces before taking a trip to space. My mom, being the fountain of random wisdom she is, warned me not to do that because someone in another car would come by and rip my the more I thought about it, the more I would imagine someone driving around the city tearing the arms off children who tried to be dogs or astronauts.


Halloween: What other holiday lets you dress up as your favorite characters and receive free treats? Of course, my parents had to go and ruin my childhood by instilling fear into what is otherwise a completely harmless holiday. I could do all of the normal stuff, dress up and go around asking for candy. The only thing I couldn’t do was eat the candy. Why? Razorblades. It seemed that every house on our block consisted of sadists, who targeted solely our household with the intent of shredding the insides of the Villanueva children. No candy was safe, not even the common store brand.


My mother used to take advantage of my convince me that she’d already fed me dinner, when in truth, she hadn’t given me a damn thing. I’d go to her in the evening and whimper over my grumbling stomach, “Mommy, I’m starving, when are we going to eat?” She would reply, “Chelsea, we ate dinner an hour ago. I made you spaghetti and broccoli. You really don’t remember? What is wrong with you?” She would feed me eventually, but not before thoroughly convincing me that I’d completely lost my mind. What a bitch.






Despite growing up in an essentially crime-free part of Anaheim, my dad was

Like many a good Catholic boy, I attended “CCD” for many years which supposedly taught me about the Church and prepared me for future sacraments. One event that still sticks out in my mind was the day we had a theological scientist come and talk to us about the Shroud of Turin. For some reason this mostly consisted of explaining that radiocarbon dating is the least accurate

us that lawless thugs could break into our home at any time. We had bars on the windows, weren’t allowed to open the blinds in our bedrooms and my dad would double-padlock the back door when we would go on overnight trips. One of the most excessive things that we had to do was keep wooden baseball bats next to our beds. Even though the bat was bigger than my own body, I was instructed to use it to smack the shit out of anyone that would just happen to pop into my house in the dead of the night.


Some people have bigger noses than others, but when I was younger I didn’t think the difference was genetic. Instead, I thought that some people had large noses because they picked them. Yes, their noses were abnormally large because they were heavily picked at a young age. to my nose before my mom would notice, my nose would grow big if I kept picking it. Since physical attractiveness is such a huge part of my life, yes, I’m vain, I wouldn’t dare try to do anything that might have made my nose look big.


I was told about the birds and the bees to endlessly question the world around you but not yet old enough to decipher I went on weekly play dates with had dished the dirt on doing the nasty. When my parents found out, they had a remedy for my impressionable mind: They asserted that I came from the moon. For months, I believed that I had popped out of a lunar crater and had been sent to earth like an intergalactic mail-order baby. Who knew planets were asexual?

reason that the Shroud only dated back to about the 13th century. It wasn’t until many years later that I realized this man had blatantly propagandized at me. I have since become a godless heathen.



I lived in a small, no bedroom apartment there weren’t many kids to play with and my parents were good friends with the manager of the apartments, they let me draw on the front door. I would draw cats with funny hats or monsters, sometimes play tic-tac-toe with my dad when he wasn’t too tired from work. When there was no more room on the door, I ventured to other canvases. Mainly, my hands. Drawing claws, eyes, the best four-letter word to write on my knuckles. When my mom noticed, she forced me to wash off the marker because according to her, the ink would give me cancer.




I couldn’t poop comfortably for many years because my mom told me a story about one of her neighbors in El Salvador that pushed too hard, causing his intestines to spill out of his anus. Then his mom was forced to shove all his intestines back into his body using a stick. “Unless you want me to push guts back in with a stick, you better start drinking water,” she would tell me if I took too long in the bathroom. Little did she know that I would spend most of my time pacing around the toilet because I was scared of pooping my guts out.

I was told a lot of ridiculous things in my impressionable childhood. Don’t watch too much TV because the government uses mind control waves to control us through it. Eating carrots can give us 20/20 vision. Working hard always pays off. But, by far the most ridiculous thing that ever graced my ears was said, in all places, in my Catholic kindergarten class. I remember being told that during mass, I was eating the literal body and blood of Christ. What? How big was the dude? What about the AIDS epidemic? It was all too much for me to handle. Now I’m an atheist. Thanks creepy Jesus.


It’s not an ancient belief, custom, or even popular myth. It’s nonsense that my grandma told me to keep me from dirtying my feet when I played outside. She would insist I wear shoes outside, because if I didn’t, I would undoubtedly catch a cold. I’m not one who fancies being ill. I rather dread the days I wake However, I do fancy the feeling of the warm, noonday concrete beneath my bare feet. It was a gamble I was willing to take. I took it, I won, and yet I still can’t shake the feeling that I might catch cold by going barefoot.


My parents were the worst, man. Not only did they sustain my belief in Santa Claus until I was 17, they told me that rapists only come out after midnight. I am in my twenties and I still have a midnight curfew because I am too poor to move out of my parents’ house. They spent most of our money raising cats, and continue to perpetuate the belief that cats are better than dogs. What is so ridiculous about all the lies that they’ve told me, is that I don’t think they think they’re lying at all. They actually believe this stuff. But by far, the worst lie my parents have ever told me was that if I work really hard and go to


27 AUGUST 2012






ong before activists took to the Internet to inject their thoughts into blogs (as had happen with the Arab Spring movement) pamphlets had been used as a means to share philosophical, political, and other provocative thoughts. One of the foremost theorists of anarchism, Peter Kropotkin, used pamphlets to spread his radical views. Born into Russian aristocracy Kropotkin abandoned his societal status at the tender age of twelve. In the 1870s he found himself to be an enemy of the state. His revolutionary pamphlets had upset the Czarist government to the extent that he sought exile for a number of years. Around the same time in another region of the world Voltairine de Cleyre was spreading her views through pamphlets, and lectures, in land that was far from: freethinking: The United States of America. She had spent the most significant years of her life in Philadelphia. She had been fond of the ideas of anarchism as well. But, throughout her works her focus was mainly on more feministic topics. She had strong views on marriage, as evident in her work They Who Marry Do Ill. de Cleyre got her foot in the door of anarchist pamphlets with the help of Moses Harman, publisher of Lucifer, the Light Bearer. Harman was a champion of free language, free thought, and free love. A year or so before de Cleyre and Harman had started to collaborate Lucifer was under fire. The publication had included a piece by physician W.G. Markland on the topic of marital rape. For a decade Harman had



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been in and out of court, and prison, for this and other works. The works in question had been in violation of the Comstock Act of 1873 (allotting up to ten years for those who knowingly mailed or received “obscene,

publisher of radical materials of its time. One of the publisher’s most prolific contributors was Joseph McCabe. He possessed a strong educational background: fluent in Latin (as well as other languages),

lewd, or lascivious” material). In spite of this monumental setback the spread of forward thought continued. The early 1900s saw the birth of HaldemanJulius publishing, the most renowned

a professor of history and philosophy, and a former Catholic priest. Given his resume one would not guess that as a writer his major focus was that of Atheism. McCabe would go on to be one of the most learned

proponents of Atheism: his pamphlet works include titles such as Christianity & Slavery, Atheism The Logic of Disbelief, Horrors of the Inquisition, and much more. McCabe died in 1956. After a couple decades of post WWII tension, the thoughts of pamphlets had grown to address more specific, and complex issues (in a sense more practical and less philosophical). An example of this evolution of thought can be found in the piece You Can’t Blow Up a Social Relationship: The Anarchist Case Against Terrorism. The work specifically addresses a bombing of an Australian Hotel in March of 1978. The short-lived group Anarchist Communist Federation had published the work. Although, the world today is undeniably on life support via the Internet, the publishing of pamphlets is alive within many communities. Anarchists still turn to pamphlets to spread the word. Publishers have, in addition to new material, gone back to the basics and have reprinted the works of the early anarchist theorists. On the other side of the ideological spectrum are Christian organizations, of all denominations. The Jehovah witness publication Watchtower is in heavy circulation. Another group eager to share material with anyone receptive to the Christian agenda is the American Center for Law and Justice, headed by the ever-so-charming Jay Sekulow. However, regardless of the views being presented, it is clear that pamphlets are alive and well in the age of ebooks, PDFs, blogs, vlogs, and television.








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DISCLAIMER: This page is the satire. Many of the things written are probably false. It may look really pretty and have a lot of words that sounds like stuff that might be a thing if you think real hard, but it’s not. We do not represent ASI, nor do we represent the CSULB campus. Email the Duchess at

“KooOOOooky Crisps”

Volume 71 Issue 1

Monday, August 27, 2012


ROMNEY JOKE LEADS ARMSTRONG DIES STRONG (WITH DOPE) TO LAUGHTER? Mitt Romney rocked the political scene last week when he jokingly referred to the supposed conspiracy surrounding President Obama’s BY MARILL’S CREEPS place of birth. The comment was made while Romney was speaking to a crowd in Commerce, Michigan, about how he and his wife were born at nearby hospitals, typical ho-hum Romney banter, then proceeded slip in the following punch line, “No one’s ever know that this is the place that we were born and raised.” The crowd, in utter shock at this stark display of what many would refer to as “humor” and “personality,” sat silently as Romney moved his hands in a jazzlike movement. After a several awkward seconds, the comment was met with slow building claps followed by cheering. Romney stared out into the crowd blankly and attempted a smile. “Excuse me,” he stated, as he reached into the holster slot located in his calf, “I have to go. Somewhere there is a crime happening,” and began walking towards the stairs. “It was like watchin’ those nature shows and then seein’ that one about the eagle carryin’ the goat off the mountain or that lizard that walks over the water,” said one spectator. Many Romney detractors speculate that this is all a ploy, that

Romney is attempting to pander to the birther community, people that believe that there is a conspiracy surrounding the true location of Barack Obama’s birth. Some have even gone as far as to say that it’s almost as if Romney is giving a nod to every crazy belief centered around birth, life, abortion, sex, drugs, and/ or the existence of biology. Even that he’s trying to show his support for Todd Akin’s comments last week on a women’s ability to reject the sperm of a rapist using a vestigial bone located inside a woman’s vagina that catapults any semen the body considers to be “rapist” back into the rapist’s penis. Local analyst Walter Walkerson thinks otherwise. “Obviously,

At 2:45 p.m. on Saturday, Neil Armstrong, the first man to jump over the pacific ocean and touch the moon, died due to complications BY TOM ANATOR following his recent cardiac bypass surgery in which they attempted to give him the heart of a horse in order to make him a fiercer competitor during the races to the moon. This is no surprise to many as Armstrong has working for the past several years to stay out of the public’s eye due to allegations of doping during his several tours of France and his many trips to the moon. In a statement made a few days before his death, Neil Armstrong voiced his displeasure with the current investigation by the United States Anti-Doping Agency by calling the whole proceeding

“an unconstitutional witch hunt.” In his statement he went on to stay, “There comes a point in every man’s life when he has to say, ‘Enough is enough.’ For me, that time is now.” This could be referring to the rumors that began to circulate moments after his death about him giving up one of his testicles in order to go into space, the bicycle that gave him cancer, and his involvement with the rock and roll, Sheryl Crow. The USADA plans on continuing the investigation Monday morning after the body is buried. They plan on exhuming the body—this process seems to be a little counter productive to this reporter since they could have checked his body before they buried it—and checking his bones for the dope through a process called NASA, which calls for sending his body into space and seeing what happens. Armstrong, who was just a few days removed from his 82nd birthday, will be buried with his favorite trumpet, Pasqual.

he is attempting to show people that he can be a regular Joe Jokes-a-lot. I thought it was kind of funny.” We could not reach Romney for a comment, but his publicist did tell us that Romney plans on imputting more “jokes” into his humor matrix to futher advance his Human A.I.


The fun is in the challenge, Psy-man

“If you ain’t livin’, you’re Ryan.” —Romney on impending Apocalypse

Channel 5 News Anchor, Jan Skylar, cuts a rug with Jay Baruchel

Debt on Arrival  

Alternative Ways to Pay Through College

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