The Wake Issue 1 Spring 2007

Gay Sheep/12 The Weekly Student Magazine of the University of Minnesota

Walker Scavenger Hunt /04 PLUS

Female Circumcision / Spirits / more 11-17 April 2007

Editorial/ Editor-in-Chief Jenny Odegard

Managing Editor Eric Price

Athletics Editor Nick Gerhardt

Campus Editor Brad Tucker

Literary Editor Jacob Duellman

Sound & Vision Editor Alice Vislova

Voices Editor Nathaniel Olson

Editorial Assistants Dan Olmschenk, Tammy Quan

Staff Writer Carl Carpenter, Becky Lang

PRODUCTION/ Production Manager Jeremy Sengly

Art Director Sam Soule

Photography Editor Ethan Stark

Web Editor Luke Preiner

Copy Editors Brent Campbell, Erin Lavigne

Graphic Designers Dave Hagen, Eric Price, Becki Schwartz, Jeremy Sengly, Krista Spinti

Distributors Preston Jones, Luke Preiner

BUSINESS/ Advertising Executive Tyler Jones

Office Manager Elizabeth Keely Shaller

Public Relations Director Allie Dinnocenzo

Advertising Interns Ben Anderson, Autumn Brothers, Eric McPherson

Advisory Board James DeLong, Kevin Dunn, Courtney Lewis, Gary Schwitzer, Kay Steiger, Mark Wisser

THIS ISSUE/ Cover Artist Jeremy Sengly Illustrators Ben Alpert, Dave Hagen, Eric Price, Jeremy Sengly

Contributing Writers Amy Fink, Nick Gerhardt, Andy Irland, That Bird Outside the Window, Cecilia JohnsonUlrich, Becky Lang, Brad Tucker, Shannon Walter, Tammy Quan

Photographers Justin Heideman, Nick Heille, Christopher Roberts, Rahima Schwenkbeck, Seungjae Seo

/5:25 Š2007 The Wake Student Magazine. All rights reserved.

Established in 2002, The Wake is a weekly independent magazine and registered student organization produced by and for the students of the University of Minnesota.

The Wake Student Magazine 1313 5th St. SE #331 Minneapolis, MN 55414 (612) 379-5952 • www.wakemag.org The Wake was founded by Chris Ruen and James DeLong.

Dear campus,

Gay Sheep/12

We’d like to invite you to Downtime Bar in Dinkytown this Friday night (the 13th), where The Wake will be throwing a small party for… well, we couldn’t decide.

“Friday the 13th” is just too clichéd, and really, how can one choose between the likes of the anniversary of Apollo 13’s oxygen tank exploding and the anniversary of the Amritsar Massacre, in which British troops slaughtered hundreds of innocent Indians? We thought we had it nailed with our Terri Schiavo theme a few weeks ago, but the date changed, so there goes that dream.

Regardless, come celebrate whatever terrible cause we come up with by drinking cheap drink specials. It’s technically ladies’ night, but since this upset our staff feminists, we may be changing it up a bit.

ERIC PRICE

Managing Editor

Sound & Vision/04 LITERARY/10 CAMPUS/14 VOICES/17 PHOTOGRAPHY/18 ATHLETICS/20 BASTARD/23

P.S. Attn. writers, artists, and disgruntled Carlson students who are good at doing taxes: we’re hiring for fall semester. Being that this is, after all, a student organization, our turnover is ridiculous and open positions are practically a free-for-all, so have at it.

Sound & Vision/

The Local Music Odyssey It’s not everyday that fifteen dollars lets a person see eight different bands in concert. Even less often is a clue-driven chase across the city included in the

price of the ticket. On Saturday, March 24th, participants in March of Madness: Bands on the Run! went on a citywide search for eight local bands that were to perform at four undisclosed locations. Organized by local artist Michael Gaughan. Bands on the Run! was the sixth event of its kind. > > >

By Sage Dahlen 04/11-17 April 2007

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“I like using the imagination to think of something fun and have it actually come to life,” said Gaughan.

Gaughan, with the help of 12 teenagers on the Walker Art Center Teen Arts Council (WACTAC), designed a musical tour of Minneapolis that lasted for nearly nine hours.

The group of eager participants was instructed to meet in the Skyline Room of the Walker Art Center, one of the event’s sponsors. A curtain was drawn and a massive body of people rushed towards it, looking for their first clue. Shouts went up of a marching band moving down below, and suddenly the group was running for the door. The hunt had begun.

The marching band led participants to Parade Ice Garden where an ultimate team was practicing.

After learning about ultimate and receiving free Frisbee discs, the group was treated to a performance by Paper Tiger, Mike Mictlan and Sims of local hip-hop group Doomtree. Color-coded Frisbees led the group to the Walker’s sculpture gardens for the next clue.

After solving a code using message adorned benches in the sculpture gardens, the group was directed to two women in full white gowns, holding

brightly colored parasols who were picnicking in Loring Park. The women directed participants to the nearby Women’s Club, where the group saw performances from local groups Mouthful of Bees and I Self Divine. In addition the group had the opportunity to put together a talent show and compete for a prize. Some of the acts featured in the talent show were a sensual massage, a water train, a group of girls “being double jointed and then they dance,” and a freestyle rap battle.

The dance party came to an end when two “cops” began to hand out tickets for noise violations.

After these performances, a cryptic video screen clue led the group to the new Guthrie Theater, where in turn, the group was directed through two different clues to Mulberry Park near the Stone Arch Bridge. At the park, participants let loose, dancing wildly to the next band, Skoal Kodiak, whose lead singer played a musically engineered bottle of Clorox. Those not involved in the dance party put their free Frisbees to use, sending them soaring over the grooving crowd.

The dance party came to an end when two “cops” began to hand out tickets for noise violations. The group was then sent downtown to the courthouse, where a very small protest was being staged.

“Cheney is a dumb-bell” and other various bellrelated signs sent the group to follow their ears to Gethsemane church. This location was where the remainder of the event occurred.

After refreshments, organ music, and a spirited spoken word “sermon,” four more bands performed

in the church. Synchrocyclotron and Michael Gaughan’s two groups, Brother and Sister and NOW, all performed in the main area of the church.

Brother and Sister’s performance began when Gaughan was wheeled into the room inside a coffin from where he played the majority of the set. Once outside he proceeded to draw a picture on the stage backdrop using the neck of his guitar, all the while playing a shredding guitar solo.

A conga line then led all participants upstairs for the finale, a performance by hip-hop group The Chosen Few. By this time, participants had been biking, dancing and clue-hunting for a good eight hours, but no one would be able to tell from the way they jumped and danced to this final band.

Though he refers to the events as “community building pieces,” meeting people and making new friends are just two aspects of the adventure.

Gaughan’s goal is to allow people to get out and see the city in a new way, while having the audience get involved with a concert just as much as the band that is performing.

If all this seems like too much to believe, imagine a party at the downtown YMCA with a poolside performance by Gaughan’s band Brother and Sister. Or bussing to a Shakopee prison in order to see local group Faggot perform live from inside a prison cell. These things have all been part of Gaughan’s scavenger hunts and he doesn’t seem to be out of ideas yet. For those who enjoy local music and exploring the city, keep your eyes pealed for the next event, because as Gaughan assures, it is already in the works.

Justin Heideman

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Sound & Vision/

With the Roots As My Testimony, I Say Hip Hop is Alive.

by Carl CarpenteR We’re a spoiled bunch here in Minneapolis. American culture all too often confuses genuine hip-hop with the generic “Rap” we are spoon-fed on TV and the radio.

However, we continue to sit pretty with one of the most legitimate (as in, actually music) hip-hop scenes in the states. At its origin, hip-hop is a progressive genre. It has taken the potential of music as a forum for social commentary to new and exciting heights. Although it has always enjoyed a close connection to parties and dancing, entertainment has recently turned into hip-hop’s sole purpose. Lyrically gifted MC’s are a scarce commodity in the mainstream, and the production of original beats has fallen victim to thievery and replication. As soon as one interesting song hits the charts, five similar follow, capitalizing on its success.

In these dark and depressing days of Chingys and Fat Joes, Rich Boys and T-Pains, Chamillionaires and Bow Wows, it’s easy to feel that all hope is lost. It seems that never again will the proud and respectable genre of hiphop stand for anything, nor truly inspire anyone (aside from drunk teens to dance, but how hard is that?) On Tuesday, March 20th, The Roots came to First Avenue and proved to a roomful of Minnesotans that hip-hop, in the right hands, can still hit you like a bag of bricks. It can be both a political awakening and a dance party. It can be a musical experience second to none.

Finally, in a sort of visual oasis, they broke into an all out dance session.

My thirsty eyes were in disbelief.

Opening act, Muja Messiah, kicked things off with a short set of four or five songs. His abilities as an MC were evident, but his posse of unconvincing hype men and dapperly dressed standers-by added little to the performance.

A lyric in his first song touched on a reoccurring theme throughout the evening. “The third World War was in Iraq for oil, the fourth World War will be on American soil,” he assured with great timing and delivery. I was quite struck by the power and validity of this statement. Next up was the far superior Zion 1. This group was composed of two grungy lookin’ MC’s from Oakland, California, and a DJ who created beats live with his drum machines much in the vein of Nu-Mark from Jurassic 5. They took the stage and went right to work, rolling through an hour set and leaving the stage covered in sweat. They rapped quickly and aggressively without ever losing control, mov-

06/11-17 April 2007

courtesy google images

ing about and dominating the stage. Finally, in a sort of visual oasis, they broke into an all out dance session. My thirsty eyes were in disbelief. For so long we have been deprived of an MC willing to dance onstage worry free - to do some unrehearsed full body movin’, without checking every few seconds to make sure the hat is still on right or the pants haven’t fallen down. Refreshingly, Muja Messiah busted out some moves requiring more energy and risk than, say, a shoulder dust or pretending you’re driving a car.

After half an hour of waiting, the stage lights for The Roots finally came on. An upbeat jazz number sounded and all eyes were forward in full anticipation of their arrival. As the minutes passed, people began to wonder aloud what could be holding them up. To the delight and surprise of all, they appeared from the VIP room on the 2nd level. Though the excited fans lining the railing obstructed the view of those below, you could follow their progress as the dancing bodies turned. They went across to the opposite stairs, came down, and made their way through the crowd onto the stage. Each Roots member held a Cowbell, two in front and two behind the four members of Brass Heaven, the four piece from The Roots’ hometown of Philadelphia. A tuba, a trumpet, a trombone and a sax were their weapons of choice. Once on stage,

they played out this jazz loop for 10 more minutes before the crowd could even applaud their arrival. The Roots weren’t here to impress; they were here to have a good time and appreciate some music like the rest.

After four extended versions from their newest album, Game Theory, bassist Leon “Hub” Hubbard blew minds for 15 minutes while the rest of the crew took a break off stage. With their return commenced a half hour cover session hitting most if not all of your old favorites: “Get By”

by Talib Kweli, “Just A Friend” by Biz Markie, “Apache” by the Sugar Hill Gang, “187” by Snoop Dogg, “Goin Down” by Yung Joc, “This Is Why I’m Hot” by someone whom I’m sure has a similarly ridiculously stupid name, “Killer Bees” by Wu-Tang Clan, and “Push It” by Salt N’ Pepa, to name just a few. They covered three other songs at greater length later on in the show: “Immigrant Song”

by Led Zeppelin, “Roxanne” by the Police, and finally a 25 minute, incomprehensibly sweet version of Bob Dylan’s “Masters of War.” Everyone had left the stage except drummer Ahmir “?uestlove” Thompson, guitarist Captian Kirk Douglas, and Brass Heaven’s Saxaphonist. ?uestlove then made a See “Roots,” p.09

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“Matthew [Bourne] is Edward’s perfect conduit,” Thompson says in a press release, “His is a brilliant wit. He thrives on whimsy -- one gets to laugh while watching a Matthew ballet. And not just a little, but to laugh a lot (imagine: laughing at the ballet)! We are always with the dancers, alert to their feelings, aware of what’s happening in the tale. Matthew loves narrative. Story drives his dances. At the same time, he can suddenly capture the deepest emotion with the tiniest gesture. He gets giddy messing with rhythm. He has fun. He also knows how to wound. And when.”

Bourne exalts the story as a dreamy fit for the stage. “[Ed-

“[Edward Scissorhands] is a hugely original gothic fairy story that is simple and universal enough to be told through music and movement alone.”

Edward Scissorhands to Shear through Curtains at the Ordway courtesy bill cooper

by Alice VislovA Who, having seen Tim Burton’s film, Edward Scissorhands, can honestly say they remained untouched?

Now, the bittersweet, haunting beauty of the film has swirled its way onto the stage in a sellout UK tour and a 23-week visit to America. Directed by Matthew Bourne, Edward Scissorhands will be performed at the Ordway Theater in Minneapolis April 10-15, with tickets ranging between $38 and $60 dollars. A steep price for many Wake readers, this occasion may be worth whipping out the big bucks.

Burton and Edward Scissorhand’s writer, Caroline Thompson passed Edward to Bourne confident that the Tony winning director and his brilliant team could successfully transfer the story to the medium of dance while preserving its haunting, delicate simplicity.

ward Scissorhands] is a hugely original gothic fairy story that is simple and universal enough to be told through music and movement alone,” Bourne says. Bourne describes the movie’s original score by Danny Elfman as the “backbone” for Terry Davies’ music arrangements. Being silent throughout the film, Johnny Depp expressed Edward’s character through movement, which is something that, obviously, lends itself well to dance. In Bourne’s words, “The characters and the visual landscape are … a gift for both myself and our designer Lez Brotherston.”

The result is a deeply moving conglomerate of emotion, humor and wit, wrapped in dynamic music, set and costume design. More modern dance than ballet, critics have applauded the grandiosity of Bourne’s choreography. Contrasting a heavily ornamented graveyard scene from the bright pastel suburban houses and big-haired ladies in fruity dresses, set and costume design has also been applauded. In addition to an all-around quality production, Bourne has packed in several surprises to keep the audience on the edge of their seat.

If there has ever been a production truly for children and adults alike – this is it. The story of Edward Scissorhands uses a simple fairy tale to dig deeply into its audience, exposing loose, sensitive clumps of nerves. “The story occupied realms Tim and I both hold dear. It spun cunningly on the Frankenstein story. It examined the shiny surfaces of suburbia and the ugly underneath. It conjured childhood, the nostalgia and the resentments,” describes Thomson. Although the staged presentation of the story has been criticized at times for drifting too far from the bittersweet into the comedic, critics agree that at its culmination the production is beautiful both inside and out.

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Sound & Vision/

Remaining “Modest.”

by Becky Lang When Jewel crawled out of her minivan and onto MTV, warbling the song “Intuition,” her fans probably felt that something was off. Gone were the screams of “ugly girl—you want to kill her,” reminiscent of John Lennon is his primal therapy days. In their place was a crappy, pseudo-Middle Eastern beat and an album full of tracks inspired by text messages, like “U and Me = Love.” She had self-admittedly sold out, betraying her fan base of vegan fourteen-year-olds.

Many people seem to fear that their indie “pet” band will follow Jewel’s path. As one after the other appear on the O.C. soundtrack, we lament the days when we could enjoy The Shins without being asked whether we had seen Garden State. With the release of their newest album, We Were Dead Before the Ship Even Sank, Modest Mouse fans have become especially fearful of the looming presence of Modest Mouse on the iPod of the undeserving.

It started with some animated cut-out lambs bouncing along on VH1, narrating the band’s first break-out hit, “Float On.” The song was a clanging, banging anthem of ironic, “who are we kidding” optimism, fueled by its central image of the masses, light as bubbles, continuing on by the inertia of their own emptiness. The album, Good News For People Who Love Bad News, was, ironically, propelled into Target by the reliability of the single, and perhaps in part by the appeal of its minimalist cover art: a bleeding green wall shot with pink arrows.

Throughout the album, mentions of carbon and flies are repeated, like reading a grown up’s version of Book of Virtues.

However, the album for the most part showed no sings of selling out. Instead, it was a cabaret show of all the different sides of singer Isaac Brock. The song “Bukowski,” full of spotlight rants and plucky guitars, is an angry examination of his relationship with the beatnik himself, asking, “Who would want to be such an asshole?” As unlikely as it seemed that this rhetorical question would solicit anything but a few blinks from the crowd on MTV’s Total Request Live, fans remained weary.

The new album, with a title seemingly designed to single out the most tragic of listeners, is a slightly different chronicle of Isaac Brock’s misery. He’s recruited Smiths

guitarist Johnny Marr, who helps ensure the presence of some chaos in every song.

The first single on the album, “Dashboard”, feels far away from the usual intimacy of a Modest Mouse song, as if recorded while Brock is strangling a microphone in a karaoke roller rink. The guitars are scuzzy and panicked, finally erupting into cinematic Bollywood strings, as the chorus ruminates, “It could have been, should have been worse than you would ever know.” It’s missing a certain sincerity, but it makes for good treadmill music.

“Spitting Venom” is an epic track reaching almost nine minutes. It begins with a skippy introduction, but quickly tunnels into a flurry of urgent chord. After putting the listener through this storm, the song provides a complete tone change. Horns and whispers sparkle subtly around one another until it becomes a fanfare fit for sending a President to the moon. The song continues on for three minutes in a luxurious progression clearly meant to reminisce to.

Fans of “Gravity Rides Everything,” will be pleased by the track “People as Places as People,” which claims, “We’re the people that we wanted to know, and we’re the places that we wanted to go.” The lyric is an interesting idea, considering our culture so centered on “reality” based entertainment, exposing the positive side to our obsession with strangers. Unfortunately, in the end the track fails to truly conjure the tenderness of the former Modest Mouse, instead submitting to a repetitive, radiofriendly fade out.

Brock still expertly hollows out the darkest moments into organic audio landscapes. In “Parting of the Sensory,” hand claps and swirling fiddles create a ghostly feeling, reminding us incessantly, “Someday you will die and something’s going to steal your carbon.” One of the best tracks, “Fly Trapped In A Jar,” essentially consists of buzzing, horns, and Brock asking with a broken, sloppy shout, “One wing: is it even enough to live?” Throughout the album, mentions of carbon and flies are repeated, like reading a grown up’s version of Book of Virtues.

Ultimately, it seems that Brock has become a bit more comfortable recording with Epic Records, straining less to prove himself as inventive to the extremes of Good News. Do yourself a favor and enjoy this album away from the politics, appreciating the natural maturation of a band with a decade of experience.

08/11-17 April 2007

Upcoming EVENTS

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The Lost Boys of Sudan Low (CD-Release) Sat Apr 14 With Loney, Dear; Charlie Parr. 18+. $12/$14. 6:30 pm. - Music: Nightclubs, Music: Concerts First Avenue 701 1st Ave N, Mpls.; 612.332.1775 Blonde Redhead Sun Apr 15 With Midnight Movies. 18+. $13/$15. 8:00 pm. - Music: Concerts, Music: Nightclubs First Avenue 701 1st Ave N, Mpls.; 612.332.1775 MN Orchestra: Brahms’ Piano Concerto No. 2 Apr 12-13 $20.25-$82.25. 11:00 am Thu; 8:00 pm Fri Music: Classical, etc.

Orchestra Hall 1111 Nicollet Mall, Mpls.; 612.371.5656

Through Apr 22 Full Article Three boys travel from a Sudan refugee camp to Fargo. $18-$28. 8:00 pm Thu-Sat; 4:00 pm Sat-Sun. - Children’s Theatre Company

Art Reincarnated Apr 5-26

2400 3rd Ave S, Mpls.; 612.874.0400

Recycled materials art by 70 artists. Opening reception 7:00 pm to 9:00 pm Fri Apr 6. - Art Galleries

National Geographic Live!: Chasing Tornadoes

Altered Esthetics

Thu Apr 12 Severe storm researcher Tim Samaras discusses. $27.50-$37.50. 7:30 pm. -Pantages Theatre710 Hennepin Ave, Mpls.; 612.339.7007 Global Warming Day of Action Sat Apr 14 With speakers; live music; displays; activities. Free. Noon to 4:00 pm.

1224 Quincy St. NE (Q.arma Building), Mpls.; 612.378.8888 AntiGravity Fri Apr 13 Gymnastic and dance performance. $35. 8:00 pm. Dance & Performance State Theatre 805 Hennepin Ave, Mpls.; 612.339.7007

For more info visit www.globalwarmingdayofaction.org or call 612.659.9124. Minnesota State Capitol 75 Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd, St. Paul; 651.296.2881

“Roots,” continued from 6

few comments in the same mindset as the before-mentioned lyrics by Muja Messiah. “This next song is about government’s sending their citizens to their deaths over bullshit ass wars like the one we’re in now,” he quipped from behind his blue, fluorescently lit throne of a trap set.

Douglas sang the first verse of the song to the tune of the “Star Spangled Banner” while strumming it circa Jimmy Hendrix. It worked to an effect far surpassing any I could have expected. They then threw a tribal spin on it for five minutes or so, followed by the next verse in the mode of full-fledged rock. It was during this segment, after relaying the line “You put a gun in my hand / And you hide from my eyes / And you turn and run farther / When the

fast bullets fly,” that Douglas propped his guitar up like a gun and roamed the stage, aiming down all those in the front row. It was a theatrical and captivating moment. ?uestlove took over with a 6 or 7 minute drum solo, during which each drum lit up when struck. Next was Douglas with a 5-minute guitar solo fringing on perfection. The final verse tied it all together. It was a fitting and deserved testament to a song from our proudest son with words which have never rung truer than today.

The band played on, the concert eventually reaching nearly three hours in length. A rousing rendition of “Jungle Boogie” swerved in and out as they played some of their

biggest hits, “Don’t Feel Right,” “Next Movement,” and “Don’t Say Nothing.” Brass Heaven then took the stage for themselves, filling the room with some soul-stirring and head bobbing jazz. ?uestlove would eventually move over to a smaller kit at the front of the stage, orchestrating the four brassmen like a seasoned conductor. The genuine sense of fun on stage was contagious: smiles, exaggerated guitar strokes and symbol crashes, choreographed moves and show closing dance lines. As ?uestlove “Prince” shuffled his way across the stage, I was at a loss for desires. I couldn’t have asked for anything more.

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Literary/

It’s Vacation Time, Baby!

Vacation! Vacation. It’s Vacation Time, Baby…

Literary Events Who: E.L. Doctorow What: The author discusses ‘The March’ When: Wednesday, April 11th, 7:30 pm.

Where: Ted Mann Concert Hall (U of M), FREE

by Cecilia Johnson-Ulrich At last on their way to sunny, cocktail decorated, ‘Some Spanish Island’ bliss, Ruby, Alice, and Veronica had only been on the plane for one hour (out of a twelve hour flight) when Alice got ‘airsick’ and threw up so much that the vomit-bag filled, and she had to ask for another one. Immediately following the ‘unsavory incident,’ the flight attendant had said with tight politeness, Alice had an irritatingly long stint in the bathroom.

Ruby and Veronica were pissed, needless to say. Although Alice insisted that it was just the turbulence making her sick, Veronica knew it was the small rainbow of pills she’d taken before they’d got on the flight, and then again after the fight had taken off. Fear of flights my ass, she thought with disdain, purposefully ignoring her vodka and sprite (the second one) sitting on the little fold down tray next to her little bag of pretzels. There was probably a hydrocodone in Alice’s mix too, because, Veronica remembered, benzodiazepines had never really upset Alice’s stomach, like they did hers. Thankfully Alice had soon retreated into a coma-like sleep, with Ruby dozing like a tired kitten between them. Ruby had an annoyingly remarkable ability to sleep on planes, no matter the circumstances. As soon as the girl sat down and fasted her seat belt she was out like a candle that caught a breeze, while beside her Veronica was ordering drinks and Alice was digging through her ‘medley’ pill bottle.

Veronica sighed and rubbed her eyes and wished for a cigarette. It was obviously very fucking necessary from them to always announce, “This is a non-smoking flight, so please refrain from smoking until you have left the aircraft.” As if there were ‘smoking flights’. Veronica declined to care that she was tip-tapping her fingers on the armrest. Then she paused. Are there smoking flights? Rich people planes, or something… Veronica chewed on her lower lip and wished fervently that (a) soon she would fall asleep for several blissful hours, (b) soon the waitress would bring her another drink or two, after which she would pass out, or (c) soon the plane would crash and she would be able to enjoy a crisp cigarette amongst the smoldering wreckage.

Who: Where One Voice Ends Another Begins What: 50 Years of Minnesota Poetry When: Wednesday, April 11th, 7 pm.

Where: Mill City Museum (704 S 2nd St, Mpls.), FREE

Who: Galway Kinnell; Josephine Dickinson What: Talking Volumes: Poetry, with host Kerri Miller When: Thursday, April 12th, 7 pm.

Where: Fitzgerald Theater (10 E Exchange St, St. Paul), $15

Who: Talk of the Stacks What: Laurel Poetry Collective, twenty local poets read When: Thursday, April 12th, 7 pm.

Where: Minneapolis Central Library, FREE

Who: 10th Anniversary of the MFA in Creative Writing What: Readings by student and poet Michael Dennis Browne; raffle; giveaways When: Friday, April 13th, 7 pm.

Where: Coffman Memorial Union (U of M), FREE

Who: In Conversation: Joe Dowling and Dean Steven Rosenstone What: The director and professor discuss controversies surrounding ‘The Merchant of Venice’ When: Monday, April 16th, 7:30 pm.

Where: Guthrie Theater (818 2nd street south, Mpls), $15

Who: Margaret Hasse; Patricia Kirkpatrick What: The McKnight Award winners read from their work When: Tuesday, April 17th, 7 pm.

Where: The Loft Literary Center (1011 Washington Ave S), FREE

Who: Dave Crady; Evelyn Klein; David Kopf; Tom Reed What: Poetry Celebration, with host Carol Connolly When: Tuesday, April 17th, 7:30 pm.

Where: University Club (420 Summit Ave, St. Paul), FREE

10/11-17 April 2007

Ben Alpert

\Literary

Nocturnal Stomping Act

By That Bird Outside of the Window We walk down streets that bear mounds of ash and wonder why we can’t see our feet, or the black hole at the center of the town of ash.

It’s not as though we are strangers to the mound of ash

spread in its ways, though at times I wonder why so many distance themselves from these mounds of ash.

These days are nothing but the same feet walking between beams coasting by houses and buildings standing stripped of their walls—to ash, with no question or qualm, and a precipitant [Bird] between the floorboards and the ivy.

Creative Writing Students: Give your portfolios some fresh air and send them to me. jduellman@wakemag.org

HOW TO submit to the Literary section: Submitting is easy! Send your poems, short stories or suggestions to jduellman@wakemag.org Attach your work using Microsoft Word and also include your piece in the body of the e-mail. Any accompanying illustrations must be sent at 300 DPI. Still have concerns? We are also available to meet in person to workshop your creative work.

Just send an e-mail to set an appointment. We don’t bite... hard.

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Feature/

Baaaaad Science?

Gay sheep in the science realm

by Amy Fink Five years ago Charles Roselli began a study with a team of researchers and a small flock of sheep to determine why about 8 percent of rams seem to be gay. In the past year, he’s been criticized from both ends of the political spectrum and accused that his studies are unethical and ba-a-a-d science.

While most major news outlets left the story alone, some had a field day, poking fun at the idea of the experiment with headlines like “Ewe Turn for Gay Rams on Hormones” and “He’s Just Not That Into Ewe.” Roselli is a professor of physiology and pharmacology at Oregon Health and Science University and is working in conjunction with Oregon State University. OHSU, which has been criticized in the past for experimenting on monkeys, received about 20,000 letters protesting the experiment. This may have been the result of a PETA campaign — one chockfull of lies. Some religious conservatives, including right-wing group Focus on the Family, which strongly advocates that homosexuality is a choice, was also outraged. Strangely, most of the commotion, not to mention libel, came from the left-wing.

But PETA wasn’t the only one who got the facts wrong. Controversy elevated as the media and bloggers got word of the experiment. On New Year’s Eve, the London Times ran a story called “Experiments that claim to ‘cure’ homosexual rams spark anger.”

Jim Newman, a press officer at the university told ABC News, “This is not true. This has never been suggested, and in fact the researchers have proactively explained for years that this is a basic science study aimed at gaining understanding of the biology of sexual attraction.”

Shalin Gala of PETA wrote in an open letter response to the study that Roselli’s work is “troubling.” She inaccurately ac-

dave hagen

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“

”

Sexual behavior is in many ways a hard-wired behavior, especially in animals like sheep.

cuses Roselli of spending millions of taxpayer’s dollars “to kill homosexual rams and cut open their brains in an attempt to find the hormone behind homosexual tendencies so that these tendencies can be changed.” She went on to say these experiments carry the insidious implication that homosexuality in humans can be ‘cured.’ ” The first part she got right — that the experiment is costing millions of dollars, about 2.8 actually. But she severely distorts the facts when she says that Roselli and his team of researchers intend to “cure” homosexuality. In fact they never said anything about finding a cure. They never said or implied that it is a condition that needs curing as if it were a disease.

Along with other bloggers, writer for Time Magazine’s website, Andrew Sullivan, jumped on board to set the record straight, as did anonymous blogger, “emptypockets.”

“Emptypockets” who reveals only that he is a biologist who does not study vertebrates anymore, says in a blog that “you would have to be appallingly incurious about the world around you not to think it is fascinating to understand how biology drives sexual behavior in other animals and perhaps influences humans.” He also explains that if it’s the killing of animals that PETA is worried about, which is necessary to dissect their brains after behavioral observations, then they are targeting the wrong people. Roselli says that on average he kills eighteen sheep a year for the experiments. By contrast, “Emptypockets” says that meat-packing companies kill almost 4 million sheep each year.

It is stated in the study that the “research was conducted in accordance with the principles and procedures outlined by the National Institutes of Health’s Guide for the Care and Use of Laboratory Animals” and was approved by the Institutional

Animal Care and Use Committees of Oregon Health and Science University and Oregon State University.

But some of the methods do seem a bit cruel and very unusual. According to the study, a series of sexual behavior and partner performance tests were conducted. The latter tests, in brief, consisted of numerous thirty-minute trials of isolation of a set number of ewes with rams during which “courtship behaviors, mounts, and ejaculations were recorded.”

In the partner preference tests, the rams were “given the opportunity to mate with two estrous ewes and two randomly selected males that were restrained simultaneously in stanchions,” which Gala asserts is “essentially a ‘rape rack.’ ” That’s pretty extreme, Gala.

But the really peculiar part comes next. The rams that appear to be male-oriented in the previous tests were subjected to much longer trials — overnight tests that lasted 16 to 20 hours. After the tests were completed, rams of mixed sexual preference were housed together and were not permitted physical contact with females.

I’m not a scientist. I can’t explain exactly why the tests were done in this way, but while I believe some if it is perfectly fine for the sake of research, parts of it just seem a little odd.

The motives also do seem a bit fishy as well, not on Roselli’s part, but the government’s. There’s always the possibility that the government approved the grant for economic reasons.

Farmers had apparently been pushing for research of this kind so they could possibly understand better why some of the studs they just bought won’t mate with their ewes.

PETA also accuses the researchers of wording the grant proposal to NIH to make it seem relevant to humans, though it

may not be. Good luck getting such a grant from NIH without doing so, but there’s a very good possibility that it really will be useful for brain research.

Some may also argue that we run into similar ethical concerns as those with the Human Genome Project. In short, that with enough knowledge of how these things work, the “undesirables” could be eliminated or fixed. But the genome has been mapped for over a half a decade, and it’s been furthering research more than it could ever harm society. This isn’t much different.

As Roselli said in a response to emptypockets, “Like all basic research there are potential benefits from this research at several levels. Sexual behavior is in many ways a hard-wired behavior, especially in animals like sheep.” He says that these findings can give us a better understanding of how the brain works and “may give us insights into other sexually differentiated behaviors and neuroendocrine functions.”

“You can make cells do a lot of things in a dish,” says emptypockets in his blog. “What matters is what they do in real life, in real animals. Unfortunately, stopping animal research means stopping biology flat.”

In an email to emptypockets, Roselli said of the London Times article, “what is so frustrating is that articles like this pit the scientist against the activist and then pretend to present a “balanced” account. They don’t understand the science and perpetrate a lot of misinformation and outright lies.”

If it’s a better understanding of the brain and the implications it has on our social behaviors that they’re after, fine. Though this might not be the motive of everybody supporting it, it still does not give PETA, other activists and the media the right to spread lies. That is never acceptable.

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courtesy Nick Heille

BY BRAD tucker Religion has always been a provider of inspiration to Western art. During the last week of March, Twin Cities artists were given the opportunity to showcase those inspired words.

The 2007 Spiritual Art Festival and Juried Art Show was hosted by St. Boniface.

Every night between March 25-29 people came from around the Twin Cities area to the northeast Minneapolis church to view the artwork.

58 pieces from local Minneapolis artists cover the walls of the St. Boniface chapel.

Every medium imaginable was represented, from conventional canvas paintings to stained glass and photography.

The works came from amateur and professional artists alike. “All Night, Every Night,” a painting by Erick Pearson, was a boldly colored and outlined representation of the Day of the Dead, a celebration of the soul’s passing into another life. Alice Kogeais’s “Last Supper” was a paper cutout of Jesus and his apostles, with the detailed white paper image of the thirteen men jumping off of the black background.

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Nick and Rosie Heille organized the show.

Nick stressed that this show was non-denominational and non-sectarian and completely open to the public.

“There are a couple of pieces here that have been rejected by other churches in the past,” Heille said. “One of the pieces was actually about rejection. The artists are very thankful that we included their works here.”

“One of the pieces was actually about rejection.

The artists are very thankful that we included their works here.”

The show awarded 11 works with special honors. Top prizes included cash rewards of $125 for first place and $100 for second. The Northeast Minneapolis Artists Association (NEMAA) and the Northeast Minneapolis Ministerial Association (NEMMA) sponsored the entire festival.

Four jurors were selected to judge the pieces submitted to the Spiritual Art

Festival. Carl and Margaret Halker are the curators of Bishop’s Hall Gallery, which displays a new gallery each month at St. Mark’s Episcopal Cathedral.

Foster Willey Jr. whose work has been in exhibition since the early 1980s, also helped judge the show. The last juror, Loren Niemi, is a storyteller who works with St. Paul’s Children’s Home Society & Family Services.

Second place was awarded to Barbara Nelson for her work “PSALM 91.” Her black and white watercolor measured out to only four square inches. The painting depicted an eagle “on whose wings you will be lifted up,” as described by Psalm 91.

First place features a tie between two sculptures. Sandra Brick, whose work can be viewed at the Minneapolis Institute of Art, contributed a large paper maché bowl under the name “Exodus Seder Vessel.” The entire bowl is covered in 40 strands of beads.

T ying with Br ick was Minneapo lis ar tist Rabi Sanfo. Sanfo, bor n in Sub-Saharan A fr ica, mostly works on A fr ican ar t, but when he found out

about the Spir itual A r t festival three weeks pr ior to the show, he decided to make “You of Little Faith.” The welded steel sculpture shows Jesus holding his hand out to Peter, who is sinking below the sur face of the water. The fig ures in the piece feature wildly dispropor tionate bodies, with long, thin ar ms, legs and necks. Sanfo’s work was being simultaneously displayed at the F rank Stone Galler y, also in nor theast Minneapolis.

On Thursday, Mar. 29, the festival was accompanied by music. Starting at 7 p.m.

Carl Schroeder, a composer and pianist, contributed three pieces to the Spiritual Art Festival Concert. The last piece, “Birmingham,” included excerpts of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s “Letter from Birmingham Jail,” spoken by Carolyn Albert.

The show’s only funding comes from an entrance fee from each artist. That money is used for prizes and juror honorarium. Information about the Spiritual Art Festival and Juried Art Show can obtained from Nick and Rosie Heille at 612-789-6527 or by e-mail at nrheille@mcg.net.

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White Bicycles: Making Music in the 1960s BY becky lang I imagine modern pop music producers as a group of cynical 25–year-olds at a round table, scribbling on napkins and picking at a six-foot sub. Of course, I have no proof that this is what goes on down at Virgin Records, it’s merely an image I conjured from the zeitgeist of modern music: cynical marketing majors, Hollywood starlets and their washed-up dads.

Music production had to be different in the sixties, when artists like Jim Morrison were too busy living fast and dying young to worry about the millions accumulating in their bank accounts. On Monday, Mar. 26, producer and memoirist Joe Boyd visited The Cedar Cultural Center to talk about his new book, White Bicycles, and to chat about his experience creating music with the likes of Pink Floyd and The Incredible String Band.

Opening the night was a guitarist named Steve Tibbetts, who played a 12-string guitar and had the audience participate by asking them to bat whistle on cue, shuffle their feet, and cough softly. He called the piece “Sounds Crowds Make.”

Even in the sixties rights to songs were traded between producers like fifth graders with Pokemon cards.

In the unique pacing of The Cedar Cultural Center, the opening act blurred into the feature, giving plenty of time for Tibbetts to interview Boyd until there was a long intermission, in which the crowd could buy beers and cappuccinos to fuel them through the second half.

Boyd, speaking in the eerily precise English of an American who has spent years lurking at folk shows in England, spoke at length of the differences between music now and music in the sixties. According to Boyd, the artists that succeed the most now (which he interprets as selling the most records) use a retrograde method of production, with low-maintenance recording to preserve the sound of the room they’re made in, leaving a warmth and a third dimension to the music. Norah Jones is his example, although he claims he prefers to unshelf one of his 5,000 old LPs when he’s in the mood for music.

The contrast between then and now sometimes leaves Boyd without precedent, like when deciding whether or not to sell a

Nick Drake song to a Volkswagen commercial. The song, “Pink Moon,” is representative of the kind of music the sixties produced for those who laid in bed with insomnia while everyone else was tripping out at laser light shows. Nick Drake sang gently, as if not wanting to interrupt his own autumnal acoustic guitar, and died by an overdose of antidepressants. Boyd initially rejected the idea of superimposing Drake over a Volkswagen, but upon seeing the story board, which focused on the sound of tires on gravel and doors shutting in the wilderness, felt the mood was appropriate.

Nonetheless, even in the sixties rights to songs were traded between producers like fifth graders with Pokemon cards. One of Boyd’s biggest regrets was not getting the rights to ABBA songs, followed closely by losing a tape of songs that Syd Barrett had decided not to record.

But the spirit of production was entirely different. Rather than surveying focus groups or creating MTV reality shows, Boyd produced music in a style of trainhopping beatniks. From the sound of his experiences, it seems like a person networked best by driving cross-country to parties, fueled by diet pills, and working “you dig?” into heavy rotation. The whole process was more intimate, requiring Boyd to sleep on the sofas of prospective artists and take their kids to the park.

According to Boyd, the whole business was filled with a pervading optimism.

Back then there was what he calls “an economic innocence,” with a cost of daily living much lower than today, so that people could live in Paris on the income made from waiting tables. Now, the average twenty-something is in debt and worried that his grandkids won’t know what a rainforest is.

The motif of the memoir, white bicycles, is a reference to a song by 60s band Tomorrow, who he claims played a set right before the event that crumbled the 60s: the Vietnam War. The war brought the end of a leisurely lifestyle, raising the cost of living, and even leading the actual white bicycles in Amsterdam to rust. He acknowledged that this metaphor was “heavy handed,” but insisted that it did have literal significance. Thus, working a 50-hour week, it is natural that the current engineers of the music business would rather sit down with a club sandwich than tour blues shows and live off of donuts and milk stolen from a neighbor’s doorstep— Joe Boyd style.

Fearless Filmmakers Screening BY shannon walter Fearless Filmmakers, a screening featuring an array of Minneapolis artists and independent filmmakers, was held near campus last week at The Oak Street Cinema. This single-screen movie theater was packed to the walls with an illustrious array of amateur filmmakers and freelance artists including Justin Pierre, the lead singer of the band Motion City Soundtrack, who contributed to the event with his first short film Karen. Ranging anywhere from mockumentary to animation, from the satirical to the dramatic, this event showcased a collection of upand-coming filmmakers.

Ranging anywhere from mockumentary to animation, from the satirical to the dramatic, this event showcased a collection of up-and-coming filmmakers.

Benjamin Martin, a 24-year-old graduate of Minneapolis College of Art and Design, submitted the only animated short to be featured in this event. Pulling dialogue from previously unedited phone conversations with telemarketers, Martin transposes our perception of the relentless telemarketer experience into a comedic art form.

Let loose, have a five-minute heated debate with a fast talkin’ telemarketer and tell him what’s on your mind and why you’ve been losing sleep for the past year. Mar-

tin’s film $$$ (In: Love) was a combination of animated character sketches paired with impromptu dialogue which was well received. When asked what motivates him to continue making film, Martin responded, “Watching the crowd’s reaction to your own work is addictive, pure and simple.”

MVP, the winner of the 2006 Grain Belt “Make Your Own Commercial Contest” was another featured film at this event.

Ryan Taylor, a videographer and photographer, worked to bring comedy to a scene staged in a Minneapolis bar by incorporating cheesy pick-up lines and some ice-cold Grain Belts into the picture.

Playing off the classic horror clichés of Scream, The Grudge and, well, most of Sarah Michelle Gellar’s films, Girl Next Door by Joe Johnson is about a girl running around in her panties killing ghosts and zombies. With blood and butcher knives every other second there is still a strong underlying sense of humor in all of the gory details much like that seen in the 2004 British film Shaun of the Dead.

Local artists are among those that set the standard for what independent film should represent. Watching this process gives new insight into the commercial aspect of widespread media culture and the influences that it has on film.

For more independent film opportunities on campus, mark your calendars for the 25th annual Minneapolis-St. Paul International Film Festival beginning Apr. 19–29, which will be screening films at The Oak Street Cinema and the Bell Auditorium.

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The Deadly Diarrhea Dilemma Avoiding the shit storm that is food poisoning

BY ANDY IRLAND We’re all busy people. When juggling school, work and a social life, most of our attention is diverted away from trivial matters such as safe food preparation and storage.

Although cooking raw meat, poultry and fish at temperatures well above 135 degrees Fahrenheit should be standard practice, few want to think about whether or not their “reasonably” aged leftovers could make them sick.

But by forgetting the fact that a slice of day-old pizza left out at room temperature is also a tasty morsel for millions of hungry microbes, most college students continuously put themselves at risk of food poisoning.

Nourished by food at an everyday indoor temperature, a single bacterium can multiply to four million in only eight hours. Anywhere from an hour to several days after eating contaminated cuisine, a person will suddenly become stricken with nausea, abdominal pain, vomiting, diarrhea, headaches and fatigue. Most victims experience these flulike symptoms for 24-48 hours before a swift recovery.

But they’ll be sick as a dog during this period of acute illness while the body expels all harmful toxins, usually a byproduct of the bacteria multiplying. How do people expel toxins from their bodies you ask? Why, through vomiting and diarrhea, of course!

This writer experienced a rude awakening to the terror of food-borne illnesses during his recent family vacation in the U.S. Virgin Islands. During an afternoon snorkeling trip, the salty sailboat captain fed lunch to the eight members of my family, his crew and the other vacationers. I climbed back aboard the vessel after a considerable amount of swimming, and a plate of fruit, bread, ham and turkey was placed before me. Five of the eight of us ate the turkey.

I recall a sense of uncertainty as I witnessed my aunt hurling over the boat’s port side a few hours later. My sister complained of fatigue and stomach pain almost immediately. Later that night, when my dad fell ill, our group knew we were amidst the unlucky few trapped in a potential outbreak of food poisoning. By the following morning, both my cousin and I were also sick. With my energy sapped, the tropical paradise that is Mayo Bay Resort became a living hell of musty tents and long trudges to and from the bathhouse. Luckily my aunt happened to be a physician with an ample knowledge of how to treat such ailments. The most important thing to remember while sick is to stay hydrated. My only regret besides ignorantly stuffing my face with lukewarm poultry was jumping at the possibility of taking anti-diarrhea medicine to stop my constant “purging” of toxic impurities. I would later learn that if the illness hasn’t yet run its course, these kinds of unpleasantries are central to the recovery process. My relief turned out to be temporary before certain symptoms returned with a vengeance later on.

If you’re still reading, I won’t gross you out with the specifics. The real point of this story is to illustrate the serious threat of food-borne illness at home and abroad. After all, with about 76 million cases in the United States. each year, one in three people are likely to fall victim.

That means these bugs are even more common than the

common cold. What’s more, stuffy noses and sore throats hardly compare to a type of illness that leads to 325,000 hospitalizations and 5,200 deaths annually in the U.S. A bacterial infection usually starts with the little bastards latching themselves onto a person’s intestinal wall, where they will multiply exponentially and sometimes shit toxins into the bloodstream or dig deeper into bodily tissues.

Fewer than twenty culprits cause 90 percent of identifiable bacterial infections. Some of which can produce a toxin within foods that can’t be destroyed by cooking.

Those among the most prevalent of these incomprehensible creatures have crazy names like Salmonella, Staphylococcus aureus, Bacillus cereus and Campylobacter.

Considering what we do know, collective knowledge concerning food-born illnesses is still full of gaps. About 60 percent of reported outbreaks are attributed to unknown pathogens. Besides cases stemming from bacteria, sickness can also result from viral infections or natural toxins already present in certain foods.

My only regret besides ignorantly stuffing my face with lukewarm poultry was jumping at the possibility of taking anti-diarrhea medicine to stop my constant “purging” of toxic impurities.

It is estimated that 98 percent of outbreaks in the United States go undetected by health jurisdictions. The reasoning is simple: the majority of them originate from commercial food vendors whose patrons won’t know one another and therefore can’t organize and document the incident. Despite this, epidemics make news all the time.

Already this year, there’s been a scare of Salmonella-infested peanut butter being distributed through Peter Pan and Great Value. In 2006, 18 people were hospitalized for food poisoning after eating at a Taco John’s in Albert Lea, Minnesota. The source was determined to be either the produce or vegetables being served at the restaurant.

Also in 2006, Escherichia coli was spreading through Taco Bell’s green onions and a good portion of our nation’s bagged spinach. Since 2000, we’ve experienced plenty of other outbreaks, including Listeria, Salmonella and Hepatitis type A from goods such as green onions, ground beef, processed chicken, unpasteurized orange juice and bean sprouts.

Companies will commonly sanitize their foods by bombarding them with gamma rays, electron beams and Xrays before they hit shelves or restaurants. This doesn’t provide a lasting solution. When cooking at home, keeping provisions separated and at controlled temperatures are key methods of preventing contamination. Don’t leave meals sitting out for more than two hours and don’t refrigerate leftovers for more than seven days. Cold eats must be stored below 41 degrees Fahrenheit. Check expiration dates, wash hands, keep surfaces clean and dry.

When in doubt, throw it out. I’m sure I sound like high school health class all over again, but this stuff is actually important.

Returning to my own unfortunate encounter, we never paid the skipper who got us sick. Very few of the other tourists on the boat touched the turkey — a wise decision indeed. Two or three days later, our resort was hit

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by a plague of viral stomach flu, virtually shutting down the entire place. The skipper tried to capitalize on this coincidence by shifting the blame from his poison poultry to this apparent outbreak. My aunt shot back, saying we didn’t exhibit the fever, chills and aches that accompany viral gastroenteritis. Clearly, we all could all stand to learn a little from the physicians in our lives.

Photo Poll

by Rahima Schwenkbeck

How do you think global warming will affect us in the next 20 years?

I’m really fearful, truth be told. It’s already affecting habitats for animals like polar bears, and we would be quite naive if we think it won’t affect us in similarly drastic ways in the near future. If we wait 20 years to do something, we’re screwed.

BETH HARTMAN Musicology Grad Student

I think global warming is a huge issue and that we should shape policy and lifestyles around the protection of nature.

ALLISON LAUBE MLS program Grad Student

If Gore had been president as he was rightfully elected, we would have already taken great strides in resolving this issue and restoring the environment.

KEISHA GREENE Art Junior

Global warming will result in changes in the fur industry...PETA will be happy because there will be less demand for fur coats!

AMANDA ADAMS 2nd Masters

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SeungJae Seo

By Nick Gerhardt The University Juggling Club has experienced times of great popularity and spells of waning interested, but through it all they remain one of the most unique groups on campus with a visible presence.

On a sunny day while walking to class, students can spot the club performing different tricks. It’s enough to convince any student that they ought to be doing something besides going to class on a beautiful day. Dazzling maneuvers entice onlookers and evoke admiration.

The group reached a critical mass in the early ‘90s when they performed at various university functions and garnered appreciation for their skill level. The members of the group during that time parlayed that acclaim into an annual festival.

The Mondo festival is now one of the largest in the country with participants coming from all over to take in the sights and display their skills. Some of the events

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include an endurance competition where a group of jugglers perform together until the last person finally drops a pin. The festival is often held in conjunction with the Minnesota Unicycle Club, another big organization that performs across the state.

Jonathan Gill, president of the club, says he knew how to juggle before joining the group and saw it as an opportunity to improve and meet people on campus. He has been involved with the club since 2000, when many of the experienced members graduated and he took on the leadership of the group.

The Juggling Club now consists of around 15-20 members, he says. They vary in skill level from beginners to some members with more experience. It doesn’t take long to learn how to juggle pins, Gill says. After refining individual skills the group moves on to work on passing skills that will help in future shows. From there members start to play juggling games like combat where three people juggle together while trying to knock each others’ pins out of the way.

The games help members work on passing patterns, which in turn lead to great shows.

The club used to perform many shows, but now with membership and commitment levels down, it has become more of a social group. Gill says he would like to get back into doing more shows as a group.

The shows are lively events, often including torches, balls and even knives being juggled. Through performing at shows individuals in the group try to work on their own style and create their own persona on stage by juggling unusual objects or performing difficult juggling patterns, Gill says.

The group performed for the Alumni Association awhile back, getting Bob Bruininks involved in the act by having him stand in the center while pins flew over his head, perhaps leaving some audience members hoping a pin might fall.

Gill said the first day of the school year is usually the biggest day for the group to

gain more exposure to students. The first day is typically nice outside and many of the new students are out and looking for various ways to get involved on campus, he said.

The Juggling Club presents a different type of activity for people looking to try something interesting. Many of the members are from the IT school, mainly because of the type of personality some IT students share. Once they get started on something they tend to focus on it and work on it until they get proficient in that skill, Gill says.

At any rate the Juggling Club gives a unique outlet to students who want to participate in something outside the norm.

The club is gearing up for a charity performance at Coffman on April 20th. So if you “just wanna chill for awhile” and take a break from celebrating, be sure to check these guys out and their mesmerizing aerial display.

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Learning the game of dodge ball Tammy Quan “Last year’s success led to the National Dodgeball League’s second annual Amateur Championship Tour,” NDL Operations Director Niki LaGrano answers when I ask her about the NDL’s decision to start a second tour. LaGrano makes the popularity of dodge ball evident. Although the Amateur Championship Tour originally began with four stops, 16 now make up the tour to satisfy the public’s growing interest.

LaGrano says, “The NDL brings dodge ball across the country at both the local and national levels and hosts games for corporations, parties and charities in Dodge-It centers.” Adding to the excitement of dodge ball, the NDL’s second annual tour offers local winners the chance to earn cash prizes and move onto the next level of competition in Las Vegas on Aug. 17 and 18.

By attending the Saturday, Mar. 31 stop at the Xcel Energy Center, I can confirm LaGrano’s description of dodge ball. She

says, “Dodge ball is about fun and competition.” Teams arrived before 11 a.m. to participate in the competition and started playing by 12:45 p.m. Participants in green, yellow, gray, blue, and red sat among their own teammates, seemingly relaxed and focused on enjoying their time. They hardly paid attention to the pressure of competing against other teams that came from other states.

One of these teams, who arrived first at 10:35 a.m., clustered near the stairs where a clock stood to the right of the entryway to the stadium. Team Conviction, whose team members wore neon orange shirts with blue numerals, showed confidence in their ability to win and tell some good dodge ball jokes. One team member says, “We are ready to stomp everybody,” and another teammate tells me, “Dodge ball is all about the catches and the footwork.”

The anxious members calmed themselves by pacing back and forth on the sidewalk outside the Xcel Energy Center. They told me that they drove three and a half to four hours from Iowa. Not long afterwards, LaGrano revealed that teams also came from Pennsylvania, Northfield and St. Louis Park.

Although the rules regulate the game for easy judgment calls, participants em-

ployed an array of strategies on the 30 feet by 60 feet playing field and showed the throwing and catching skills that they had practiced with either footballs or dodge balls before the competition began. One popular game-time strategy was to identify weaker and stronger opponents by throwing all the balls at one person, eliminating them from the game. A seventh person, the retriever, helped the teams gather the balls lying outside the boundaries on their side of the playing field.

Before the whistle is blown to signal the start of the competition, many players assume a running stance. They line up next to each other, and at the start of the game, they run to the four-foot-wide neutral zone in middle of the playing field to grab a ball. Once they grabbed the balls lined across the center of the playing field, they immediately backed to the boundaries of their zone, the farthest position possible from their opponents. This strategy was effective at making opponents throw longer distances, amplifying the difficulty of targeting players and effecting fatigue sooner.

Still some teams managed to deflect the ball from hitting themselves. They used the large balls called blockers to remain in the game. Other teams tended to lean,

jump or lay down on the field to avoid the live balls that could eliminate them from the game. Teams rarely applied the sacrifice fly strategy that LaGrano mentioned that they could use. They rarely intruded on the opponent’s side of the playing field to make themselves vulnerable to a hit.

In offense, the teams preferred to throw stingers, small balls that proved more difficult to dodge. Teams aimed the majority of the balls thrown downward at their opponents, perhaps to avoid headshots. They took LaGrano’s warning seriously: “Head shots are at the standing level, and teams may be penalized.” On the other hand, a few team members seemed to serve the purpose of solely catching balls to bring eliminated teammates back into the game and remove their opponents at the same time.

Despite the aggression that some teams exhibited, players on opposite teams would give each other high fives whether their team lost or won the game. Spectators had fun clapping and cheering, but the winning bracket could only have three teams. The team wearing the gray and yellow, plain white and red shirts remained.

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http://rrrrrrrrrrrrrnnnnnnnnnnhhhh.blogspot.com/ that cat’s got a Bomb!

mixed nuts

mixed nuts

by Jeremy $engly

by Jeremy $engly

mixed nuts

by Jeremy $engly

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