Two Takes on Activist Art /p.10
Race vs. Race /p.12 PLUS CD Reviews / Why Movies Suck / and more!
/ volume 5 / issue 3 / 13 Sept 2006
Editorial Editor-in-chief Jenny Odegard
Managing Editor Eric Price
Athletics Editor Craig Rentmeester
Campus Editor Sarah Howard
Literary Editor Jacob Duellman
Sound and Vision Editor Kristen Mueller
Voices Editor Cole Dennis
Editorial Assistants Alyssa Cogan, Dan Olmschenk, Lyndsey Danberry
Contributing Writers Elizabeth Aulwes, Lyndsey Danberry, Rachel Drewelow, Amy Fink, J.P. Frederick, Dan Groth, Sarah Howard, Marcus Lewis, Lauren McDermott, Pancho Murdoch, Nattie Olson, Eric Price, Ian Power, Lane Trisko, Gregory N. Wright
Senior Staff Writers Rachel Drewelow, Dan Groth
Production Production Manager Jeremy Sengly
Art Director Sam Soule
Photography Editor Brennan Vance
Web Editor Luke Preiner
Graphic Designers Dave Hagen, Eric Price, Becki Schwartz, Jeremy Sengly
Illustrators Alexander Tyler Tweed Judkins, Jeremy Sengly, Sam Soule, Brennan “shit I think I stepped in some brennies” Vance
Senior Photographer Ethan Stark Copy Editors Kelly Frush, Erin Lavigne, Rachel Levitt, Tammy Quan
Photographers Kate Draper, Eric Price, Ethan Stark, Brennan Vance, J.Zachary Cover Art Sam Soule
Business Business Manager Angela Damiani
Office Manager Elizabeth Keely Shaller
Public Relations Director Cassie Benson Advertising Director Meghan Norris
Advertising Intern Tyler Jones
©2006 Established in 2002, The Wake is an independent weekly magazine, produced by and for students at the University of Minnesota. The Wake is a registered student organization.
The Wake was founded by Chris Ruen and James DeLong.
02/20 September 2006
Send letters to letters@wakemag.org Please include your name, year, and college. The Wake does not publish anonymous letters.
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Two Takes on Activist Art/p.10 Altered Aesthetics’s Guerilla Art group show is a mustsee for those of you still teeming with anger over this past year’s political debauchery.
Dear campus, With the upperclassmen apparently too busy protesting new Facebook features to pay me any mind, I’d like to take this time to address all you freshmen out there. Specifically, now that two weeks have passed, I think it’s time to share some of the cold, hard doses of reality that the University has conveniently withheld from you. Consider this the real “Gopher Guide.” 1. Yes, the people in your classes really are that dense. Welcome to a public state university. Focus on the bright side—after all, the sole fact that you’re reading this means you already have a leg up on at least a quarter of our shockingly illiterate student body (who, speaking of Facebook, have caused The Da Vinci Code and Harry Potter—i.e. books for people who don’t read—to be listed as the two top books at the U). So instead of asking yourself how these buffoons somehow qualify as your peers, think of how low the bar has been set for passing your classes. Now that’s empowerment! 2. Yes, the people in your dorms really are that unaware of the college stereotype. One of the best advantages of moving out of the dorms, actually, is never having to see another one of those damn Bob Marley posters—you know the one. Late night pot and ramen-fueled Dave Matthews Band “jam sessions”/sing-alongs are right up there as well.
CAMPUS p.04 VOICES p.07
PHOTOGRAPHY p.09
SOUND & VISION p.12 LITERARY p.15
ATHLETICS p.17 BASTARD p.19
3. Yes, the food could actually be worse. In fact, it’ll get there in a month or two. Hard to believe, I know. Begin the transition to a cereal-based diet. One cockroach incident is one cockroach incident too many. (Steer clear of the peaches.) 4. Get involved. It makes me just as sick to write that is I’m sure it makes you to read it, but it’s true. Provided that you look beyond the likes of the Adult Film Appreciation Club, you can get way more experience in a student group than you could in any of your classes. The Wake, for instance, is always looking for new writers. We’re hardly an exclusive club, so show us what you’ve got—with a good idea and the writing skills to back it up, this could be your forum. It’s that simple. That felt good. Now, as for the issue, we’ve got the lowdown on everything from the amazingly racist new season of Survivor (p. 12) to the diatribes of a teenage bodhisattva (p. 7). Enjoy. As always, follow your dreams. Look where it got Steve Irwin! Eric Price Managing Editor
P.S. What’s the matter, The Dink? Trust fund run out already?
Campus/
Portuguese Seafaring Exhibit – A Treasure Trove By Rachel Drewelow
Tucked away on the West Bank, veiled in Wilson Library on the fourth floor, hidden back in the James Ford Bell Library and guarded under glass is this semester’s exhibit, “Creating the First Global Empire: Portuguese Exploration and Expansion in the Early Modern World.” The exhibit displays original treasures from the early days of sea exploration and cartography.
A scribed oration, circa 1499, including the first known documented reference to any Portuguese discoveries is showcased at the exhibit. Vasco Fernandes de Lucena mentions Africa among other exploration references in the oration of Portuguese royal obedience to the pope.
The exhibit opened Sept. 5 and showcases original maps, rare books and manuscripts from the 15th, 16th and 17th century escapades which led the Portuguese in expansion of the first global empire – spreading from the Atlantic, to Africa and the Indian Ocean Basin, eventually extending from Brazil to Japan. Though the exhibit’s visitors won’t receive much of a history lesson on early seafaring exploration, the experience is worthwhile. Manuscripts and books documenting the maritime adventures are on display, pro-
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a sense of awe. A generation that benefits from GPS (Global Positioning System) maps, online instant directions, and a city bus hotline to trek around even their own turf should be awestruck to see the actual maps and travel accounts of the first explorers to chart the land. As perhaps one of the earliest evolutionary predecessors of MapQuest.com, the exhibit’s unique pieces include the first published woodcut globular map to include the Western hemisphere, created by cartographer Martin Waldseemüller of Germany in 1507. The map is the first to chart the new lands of what would be North America as a continent separate from Asia, and the first to print the name “America.” For those rusty on their world history, note cards at the exhibit give a quick lesson. Waldseemüller named the newfound land in the South Atlantic “America” after Amerigo Vespucci, a revolutionary explorer whose travel accounts inspired Waldseemüller’s mapmaking.
tected under glass and likely written in Latin – but merely seeing the hand painted maps and scribed voyage letters can incite
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Another distinctive piece on display is one of the earliest broadside paintings depicting the exploration of South America. The
painting, created by Georg Sturchs of Germany between 1505 and 1506, is thought to portray Vespucci’s fleet sailing under the Portuguese flag at the mouth of the Plate River on January 1, 1502, according to an exhibit sign. Also on display is the first Latin edition of the earliest collection of voyages after
The map is the first to chart the new lands of what would be North America as a continent separate from Asia, and the first to print the name “America.” Christopher Columbus’ letters. The three voyages of Columbus, the third voyage of Vespucci, the voyage of Pinzon to Brazil and the voyage of Vasco de Gama from 1497 to 1499 are included in the collection, put together by Fracanzano da Montalbaddo in 1508.
Rafael Tarrago, librarian for Iberian, Ibero-American & Chicano Studies, helps curate the exhibit and says he hopes exhibit goers not only learn about the adventures of the Portuguese explorers, but also “about the breadth of the rare books and manuscripts collections at the U of M in general, and at the James Ford Bell Library in particular.” The library did not have to track down any of the documents on display for the exhibit, it already had them on hand, Tarrago explains. The James Ford Bell Library has a collection of over 20,000 rare books, 2,500 maps and 2,500 manuscripts documenting European expansion from 1400 to 1800. “Great collections start with individual collectors like Mr. Bell,” Tarrago says. The library was spurred by the private collection of James Ford Bell, the founder of General Mills who donated his treasures to the university in 1953, the library’s Web site explains. Appreciation for the exhibit will be greater to those who remember 4th grade lessons about Columbus and friends. For the rest of us, informative notecards describing the displays help to jog the memory and we may even leave inspired to look up a little early world history – perhaps while we wait for the browser to upload directions. The exhibit is free of charge and is open through Dec. 31 in the James Ford Bell Library on the fourth floor of Wilson Library, 309 19th Ave. S. It is sponsored by the American Portuguese Studies Association; the exhibit’s curators are Dr. Marguerite Ragnow, library curator, and Tarrago. For more information on the James Ford Bell library, see www.bell.lib.umn.edu.
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Election Coverage: Focus on Pawlenty By Elizabeth Aulwes
Governor Tim Pawlenty’s recent shift to the center may cost him some votes from hard-line Republicans Nov. 7, but he’ll likely earn those back by convincing swing voters that his new middle-ground proposals are truly what Minnesota has been waiting for. Just this summer, Pawlenty has proposed major reforms to higher education to provide free tuition to students who meet certain requirements, suggested regulation of contracts between oil companies and gas stations to boost the use of ethanol while supporting a plan to make cars ethanolfriendly and called for a ban on prescription drug advertising. Many think that Pawlenty’s recent proposals have been merely a campaign ploy to lure moderate voters. “This is intensely practical, vote-driven behavior,” Peter Hutchinson, the Independence Party’s gubernatorial candidate, told the Star
Tribune. In other words, Pawlenty may be just trying to reach voters by proposing popular programs that may never go into practice and might have little effect on Minnesota. The South St. Paul native has also taken flak from the blogosphere and conservatives regarding his deviation to moderation lately. His proposals could benefit a lot of people if they’re well executed. For example, ACHIEVE, his higher education reform plan, will allow many students to attend the public institution of their choice for free for two years. Students would have to graduate in the top 25 percent of their class or have comparable ACT or SAT scores. If they chose to study a math or science-related major or to teach a math or science subject, they could attend college for free for two years. Not only will the plan encourage students to study hard throughout their senior year and resist “senioritis,” the mock disease many high school seniors use to explain their lack of motivation after being accepted to college, but it will “keep the best and brightest here in Minnesota,” says Brian McClung, Pawlenty’s campaign spokesman. Pawlenty’s education reform plans also include expanding post-secondary enrollment options and “redesigning high schools to better prepare students for the 21st century,” McClung says.
But at what cost can these major overhauls take place? It’s not likely that Pawlenty will propose repealing his tax cuts to the very wealthy to finance his programs, as defeated DFL gubernatorial candidate Becky Lourey did. McClung says the education reform will only cost about $112 million over two years and in a state budget that will likely be somewhere in the neighborhood of $33 billion to $35 billion, the education plans shouldn’t be hard to cover. “Minnesota is currently running a surplus,” McClung says, so the state should be able to easily finance such a “small percent” of the overall budget. Attorney General Mike Hatch, the governor’s DFL opponent in the race, seems more concerned that Pawlenty has de-
Pawlenty may be just trying to reach voters by proposing popular programs that may never go into practice and might have little effect on Minnesota. clined a state subsidy of $473,000 in order to surpass the cap in the state’s campaign financing laws. Under the law, candidates must limit spending to $2.4 million this year if the candidate accepts the state subsidy. No other incumbent governor has declined the state subsidies since the cam-
paign finance laws were enacted 30 years ago. Pawlenty’s campaign, however, holds that the decision to decline state financing isn’t really the issue. Michael Krueger, Pawlenty’s campaign manager, told the Star Tribune that the opposition’s smear campaigns are too well-financed to accept state funding, a claim which has been refuted by Hatch and his allies repeatedly. Regardless, Hatch has a lot to be worried about. Pawlenty will probably outspend Hatch, and Pawlenty’s camp thinks their new policies will beckon to moderate voters that might go either way. McClung says that Pawlenty “has not been afraid to take on” issues typically left to the Democrats. “We think people understand and appreciate him [Pawlenty] for his frankness.”
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Freshman Convocation and the sole reason for attending By Dan Groth Each September during the first week of school, a few thousand freshmen pack Northrop Auditorium for Convocation. The event gives first-year students a warm welcome and a grand introduction to the University. University President Bob Bruininks speaks, students learn the Minnesota Rouser and the marching band brings the show to a climactic close. “It was empowering,” says first year attendee Bobby Halperin about this year’s ceremony. But let’s get serious. The real reason for going to Convocation has nothing to do with the ceremony itself and everything to do with what comes after the march to Coffman Memorial Union: hot dogs, cheeseburgers and cold beverages. Yes, it’s all free. “I mostly came for the food,” says freshman Laura Petersen. “I don’t really even remember what [Bob Bruininks] said in his speech.” These sentiments were echoed by almost everyone in the backyard of Coffman, where hundreds sat to enjoy their meals
while being entertained by various student music groups. “[The ceremony] was really dumb, but I don’t mind because now I get to have a delicious meal at no expense,” said undergraduate Paige Calhoun. OK, so this food isn’t exactly top of the line. In fact, it may not even be up to the standards of UDS. But there is something about the concept of “free food” that rings so well with college students that, to most, a handed-out bag of peanuts is a thousand times more satisfying to devour than a paid-for filet mignon at Manny’s Steakhouse.
“I’m not supposed to be here,” said junior Caitlin McNamara. “But I came for the food.” Not surprisingly, many shady upperclassmen took advantage of the University’s kind gesture to freshmen. “I’m not supposed to be here,” said junior Caitlin McNamara. “But I came for the food.”
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Some of the volunteers greeting students apparently knew overage eaters would be a problem, as they used clever tactics to trick them into admitting their ages. One volunteer engaged in small talk with a few older-looking girls in an attempt to warm them up and then chose just the right moment to slyly pose the question, “So what are you guys, juniors?” “Ye – I mean no,” they replied, realizing they’d been caught off guard. A close call.
asked about the event, President Bruininks said, “We must have had close to 4,000 students come out. That number has increased every year since we started Convocation six years ago. The marching band really ended tonight’s ceremony on a ‘high note.’” I hate to say it, but that increase in attendees surely has more to do with the free food than your awful puns, Bob.
Aside from the illegal upperclassmen and the speeches and ceremony, Convocation was once again a success this year. When
Blanket the World with Kindness Hillel helps the homeless By Sarah Howard Over Labor Day weekend, while most were settling into dorm rooms, getting to know new roommates or dealing with moving trucks, Hillel, the Jewish student center, was holding an event to help others in need. Blanket the World with Kindness was held Sept. 3 and Sept. 4 at both the Superblock and Middlebrook, respectively, and allowed students to take a break from packing to get involved with the community and a campus student group.
“The blankets were a lot of fun to make, especially when there were a couple new people to chat with.” At the event, tie fleece blankets were made for a local homeless shelter and went to children in need, says Ariella DePrengerGottfried, Hillel community service representative and co-organizer of the event. Hillel has held similar events to this one on Northrop Mall in previous years as part of Jewish Culture Week and this event was
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a continuation of that, says Eve Shapiro, community service representative and coorganizer. “The board collectively thought it would be a good thing to bring back,” DePrenger-Gottfried says.
think it was a good opportunity for freshmen to be able to help the community on their first few days on campus and realize how many activities go on during the year,” she says.
The event did have some difficulty in getting people to attend and participate. “Not as many [people attended] as we had hoped, but of the 10 or so people that did come, most of them stayed a significant amount of time and were able to make quite a few blankets,” DePrenger-Gottfried says. “It may have been sort of a bad time,” she says, adding that most of the people who approached the event were too busy moving or finding classes for the first day of school.
Hillel is the Foundation for Jewish Campus Life and has been at the University of Minnesota since 1940. The group is a member of the largest Jewish campus organization in the world. While their focus is to enrich the lives of Jewish undergraduate and graduate students, they welcome all students at their events throughout the year.
Despite the struggle, the event was still for a good cause and allowed students to meet members of the Hillel. “The blankets were a lot of fun to make, especially when there were a couple new people to chat with,” Shapiro says.
If you’re interested in getting involved with the Hillel or attending their events in the future, visit www.ujews.com or stop by for a visit at 1521 University Ave. SE.
“It was really cool to hear reactions to the project,” DePrenger-Gottfried says. “I brennan vance
\Voices Photo Poll
by J. Zachary
World’s First Out-of-Focus Photo Poll!
What do you think about product placement in movies? By Lauren McDermott “The goal of a Buddhist meditation is emptiness” slinks over from the seat next to me and wraps its mixed-up wisdom around my synapses. It feels as if perhaps my ears aren’t popping, but my head is exploding. I am beginning the descent of my flight from Cancun to Havana as I wonder, “What the hell am I going to do with all of these Christians?” I remember a sort of vow I made almost one year ago in which I decided to be a lighthouse and suddenly my mission trip to Cuba to help a church becomes my mission trip to Cuba to help the missionaries.
I knew that these fifteen Lutherans and their bibles would require a different approach. I would do something crazy and encourage their Christianity. My meditation practice had to continue in Cuba. At first, I meditated by our hotel pool at night when no one would be around to interrupt. It worked, but the time of day wasn’t fitting for me. I finally decided to pick up a little mid-day meditation in one of the empty church rooms. We had so little to work with that, at one point, I could neither help inside nor outside, so my calm would be my contribution. I rested on my full lotus tripod and began the practice of breathing in suffering and obstacles and breathing out peace and love. Some time passed, and one of the middle-aged ladies traveling with me opened my door. She wasn’t quite startled but maybe surprised by my presence. Immediately, she apologized, and I simply opened my eyes and smiled to her saying, “It is all right.” I could then feel her leave in silence and take some of my peace with her. Thinking that went well, the next day, I attempted a little sly Zen talking. While adding a second coat to some walls, I was feeling extra cheerful. The girls around me seemed to be in a similar place and started talking about how the painting was getting easier and moving faster. I threw in my thoughts that “when you are
What? Like I’m not going to say that advertising in movies is ridiculous? Come on….
KEVIN 3rd Year Grad Music
DAWN Sophomore Biology
I rested on my full lotus tripod and began the practice of breathing in suffering and obstacles and breathing out peace and love.
Yeah. It’s just something we’ve gotta deal with, you know? Advertising is everywhere. Why wouldn’t it be in the movies, too?
involved in an action, subject and object disappear and there is only the immediate experience.” I was met with a few acknowledging noises, and, for the rest of the afternoon we worked efficiently, for the most part, silently.
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When I agreed to go on this mission trip, I knew I wasn’t exactly Christian. I think Jesus is super, but I study Buddhism. Playing Zen tricks with my friends is one of my hobbies. A Zen master is always using words to stop the conceptual minds of students. If you ask whether a dog has the Buddha nature, one teacher may reply “yes,” another “no,” and yet another “mu.” All of those answers are right. Using these mental stop signs can often create a sudden glimpse of satori, enlightenment. You can’t try to make it happen, as it is the most natural thing in existence. I know you can’t try to not try either. One of my favorite Buddhists went around telling everyone that he didn’t doubt them because they were Buddhists already.
I wouldn’t dream of making everyone Buddhist. Actually, the biggest lesson it has taught me is that attachment to even Buddhist principles only rely on more concepts. The present moment and the greatest good for the greatest span are where I place importance. When asked to choose between the lives of the Vietnamese people and Buddhism and its institutions, Thich Nhat Hanh naturally choose the people. I can admit that I didn’t save the world in Cuba. I painted a poor, run-down church, played baseball with the most talented little boys and heard a lot of fantastic testimonies. Now, weeks after the trip, the useful Spanish bank I had built up has all but disappeared and was never very full. So it is proper that the Dharma, the all-encompassing teaching of Buddha can never be spoken of without leaving something out. To say that everything is empty is to forget that everything is completely full. To say that the Dharma is what I brought to Cuba is to forget that the Dharma is also what I received while there and what I continue to see every day.
I guess it’s not surprising to me. In fact, I’m surprised that product placement in Hollywood films isn’t more prominent. Corporate America is a pretty hungry, greedy machine and I don’t see how they haven’t yet taken total control of everything. I see CocaCola: The Movie coming to a theater near you.
ERIK Junior Photography
JENNY Junior Chemistry
To be fair, people should be able to do what they want. If both corporation and filmmaker decide product placement is a good idea, then it’s their right to go for it. But, ultimately, I think the viewing audience should ultimately decide by not supporting art funded and controlled by corporations.
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Voices/
Why Movies Suck: how advertisements in movies are ruining artistic intent By Nattie olson
Alex Judkins
The last good movie I saw in the theater was called (PUMA ATHLETIC WEAR) Inside Man, directed by Spike Lee. (PRUDENTIAL LIFE INSURANCE) All I’d heard of it was the description “bank robbery movie,” and I considered not going, but the choice between an overpriced movie ticket and another night hanging out with my parents was easy. It was a bank robbery movie, (CONVERSE FOOTWEAR) essentially, yet the story involved war crimes and history, it was far more than I (DOS EQUIS BEER—DRINK RESPONSIBLY) expected. Except there was this one problem: there were way too many fucking commercials. Was that first paragraph a little difficult to read? Well, that first paragraph isn’t much different than almost every movie that comes out these days. Suffice it to say that the majority of what Hollywood produces is bullshit with no social relevance and now they’ve taken their art to a lower level; it’s riddled with advertising. Normally I’d say that the only movies worth seeing are at the Landmark Lagoon Cinema or the Landmark Uptown Theatre, but now independent film companies are being approached, consequently having to make the following decision: Do we compromise our artistic integrity for more money which can either mean a better movie or greater profit margins, or do we stick with what we’ve raised to make the movie and have it devoid of more bullshit corporate marketing? It’s pretty safe to say that everybody hates commercials. Super Bowl and those specials TBS holds aside, commercials are the epitome of an insult to our intelligence. Think about any crash test or chemical disinfectant ad you’ve seen. The ad tries to scare you. Why is this? Because advertisers know a lot about psychology and they’d rather appeal to your emotions, not your intelligence, to get you to buy whatever new and improved superfluous product is out there.
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It used to be that the eight dollars you spent at the theater were what the studios depended on to make their investment back. Unlike network TV, which, since it’s free, needs to rely on advertisers to make money, movies did not have commercial breaks until recently. Yet now, you have commercials before the movie, some asinine trivia game with a gigantic fucking Coca-Cola logo in the corner, and you have commercials during the movie in the form of shameless product placement. A perfect example of this is Crash, a movie where the kid’s shoe is notably Puma, as is his shirt, Ludacris’ jacket. Sweet evil Jesus I’m embarrassed to admit I watched this show once, but what about an episode of The O.C. where one character says to another “I brought your favorite donuts from Seven-Eleven.” Not a movie, I know, but the same principles are at play. Some movie purists would say that, in a film, every word counts. Think about it, if it doesn’t have to do with the story, why the hell is it in the fucking movie? As with all fiction, the writer essentially asks the reader/ viewer to take in this lie they’ve come up with, and hopefully afterward, some social comment has shone through.
I’ve talked about this with a few people, and some have offered this response: “Well, it might not be on purpose.” No fucking way. But how in God’s name can we take the creators of such work seriously when they devote valuable exchanges between characters toward bullshit to promote brands? I’ve talked about this with a few people, and some have offered this response: “Well, it might not be on purpose.” No fucking way. Before movies hit the screen where you and I see them, they’ve been looked over a million times. You think some forty million-dollar investment geared
specifically toward a certain age demographic hasn’t been scrutinized to the core? No way. Think that the needless Pepsi-cola machine, the polished American yin yang, which just happens to be dead fucking center in an establishing shot, went unnoticed during the filming, editing, etc.? Not a chance. It’s there because Pepsi paid for it to be. And once again, you were subjected to an ad for caramel sugar water. But it’s not all bad news. Capote, partly because it took place in the fifties, didn’t compromise artistic expression, and Phillip Seymour Hoffman is that much more respected for it. Brick, taking place in modern America, is maybe an even better example, as it probably had offers, yet you can’t spot any. The result is the fact that it’s lesser known, maybe from a lack of funds for promotion. But get the DVD and you’ll understand, it’s not only a good movie, but it’s also a chance to escape being hounded by advertisers for a couple hours. This comes down to matters of money. A small time director might be able to get better special effects with a little product placement, but at the same time the obvious presence of brand names deteriorates the quality of the work. Then there are the bigger directors with fatter budgets and more grandiose studios. Do they need the extra cash to improve the movie? Probably not. They don’t, however, mind the increase in profit margins the product placement might generate. I suppose that what this comes down to is what is done with artistic talent. There are few things more respected than true creativity. Writers, painters, musicians, movie directors are the creative power that influence popular culture. And then they go ahead and throw some fucking Red Bull commercial in the middle of their work. The impression the artist sends says: money matters more than artistic simplicity.
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BY ERIC PRICE
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Feature/
2
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activist art on
By Nathaniel Olson
After the disaster in New Orleans, it felt like even the fervent Bush supporters fled the Republican camp like water rushing p a s t a b r o ke n l e v e e , a n d n o t s i n c e W a t e r g a t e has one generation been so stoutly against the head of state, this writer included.
But there is something to smile about. Our generation is not only vocal about these beliefs, but we’ve utilized every medium available to express them. Altered Aesthetic’s Guerilla Art group show is a must-see for those of you still teeming with anger over this past year’s political debauchery. The art was produced by a wildly diverse crowd, from students still hoping to graduate from art school to practiced professionals nearing their 80s. The crowd’s diversity is second only to the plethora of media employed. Day-Glow tinted screen prints reminiscent of Andy Warhol’s pop perfections, portraits constructed of chunky paint strokes, photos of downtrodden young men on the street and in church, spoken word recordings, video displays, and sculpture made from rusted engine parts fill the winding gallery space on Quincy Street. Their uniting theme is simple: each artist has something to say about today’s government. Notable names on display include New Yorker Aldo Tambellini, a spoken word artist known for his counter-culture efforts during the 1960s. And in Chilean Rodrigo Pradel’s painting, “The Great Election,” a crowd of pale yellow and red figures wave flags at the foot of their leader: a hulking giant with sharp features and a sharper frown.
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Cour te s y of A ltered A e s the tic s a nd 555 S t udios
Another piece that brings awareness to the exploited and downtrodden masses is Dorothy Joan Riley’s “I Know Enough Hate,” which depicts a scene from Robert Frost’s poem “Fire and Ice.” In it, a black man is trapped in a hole with a Caucasian woman and child, while an unmoving crowd watches from afar.
world, and also too anti-establishment to even attempt to enter mainstream venues. Until now.
bright glowing hues, is a striking contrast to the realistically faded railway logos they cover.
555 Studio curator and tattoo artist Tom Reif has managed to capture the spirit chugging through the underground graffiti culture in his current exhibit, Rolling
“Hope 4… hope” and “Coupe” are emblazoned on two models, while the epitaph “R.I.P. Heist Phrite” adorns another. Artists used various materials, from paint
Bush’s visage is seen throughout the gallery: at one point smiling from a glowing screen print; at another, his lip curls as he sits on the john.
Under-credited and unpaid, they often work in train yards under the cover of night, where they risk being slapped with criminal charges for the act of self-expression.
Equally common are newspaper clippings announcing wiretapping scandals and violence in the Middle East. These headlines, which we’ve quickly become accustomed to, are occasionally painted over until one can only barely read the chilling words.
Stock. For artists who hit freight trains with their work, only to watch it roll out from the station and encounter places they may never see, passing people they will never meet, the chance to display their names, illustrations, or political ideologies on a static surface is rare, as is the opportunity to do it in a legal, socially acceptable fashion.
A few miles across town, the 555 Studio is paying homage to another form of anti-establishment artwork: graffiti sprayed onto the sides of trains. These are activist artists of another breed. Under-credited and unpaid, they often work in train yards under the cover of night, where they risk being slapped with criminal charges for the act of self-expression. Often these artists are too unknown to infiltrate the gallery
Instead of knocking out walls to roll a row of tagged trains inside, Rolling Stock consists of 25 built-to-scale model boxcars. Each 1-by-4-foot tall figure is crafted with incredible attention to detail, right down to the painstakingly small rust discolorations and water spots. The paint, in
markers to acrylics to perform the challenging task of working on the curves, textures, and doorframes on the miniature trains. “The pieces take on a life because they’re on what they are,” says Solo, one of the 45 artists displayed in the exhibit. This number is a bold indication of the Twin Cities’ thriving underground culture. Reif originally intended to show only 10 artists’ work. But when so many artists clamored for the chance to join the exhibit that he actually had to turn people away for lack of gallery space, Reif realized a second show might be necessary.
Yet graffiti art, and those who create it, is a long way from being accepted by the masses. A front-page headline sitting in newsstands near the 555 Studio reads, “Graffiti from California gang invades Longfellow.” The article’s first line, “Don’t call them artists,” is barely the tip of a long-standing debate over whether graffiti is art or simple vandalism. While Rolling Stock is a clear example of the former, one can only wonder whether the same critics who hob-knob at prestigious venues like the Minneapolis Institute of Art will turn out at the opening—and if they’ll recognize the hours of work that went into each tiny etching of spray-painted tags and bombs. It’s not often that a truly original artistic voice shines through the nonsense we’re bombarded with today. So take advantage of it.
Guerilla Art: Art as Activism, will be displayed at Altered Esthetics until Sept. 29; alteredesthetics.com. Rolling Stock will be displayed at the 555 Studio until Oct. 7; myspace.com/rollingstock.
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Sound & Vision/
Surviving Segregation By Marcus Lewis The thirteenth season of Survivor will have its castaways battling more than just the dangers of the uncivilized world. They’re also taking on one of the heaviest burdens in American society: racism. Survivor: Cook Islands will initially divide 20 contestants into four racially segregated camps: a Caucasian camp, an African-American camp, a Latino camp, and an Asian-American camp, each competing for the grand prize of racial superiority. Not that Survivor’s producers claim this to be the case. Host Jeff Probst, when interviewed on MSNBC, said that producers decided to segregate contestants by race because they noticed applicants had lots of “ethnic pride.” Likely, this is an excuse for creating a stunt to stir up ratings on a tired reality contest, although Probst would have us believe Survivor is spearheading a movement for racial equality in reality TV. To date, Survivor has been a major force in popular culture. It is generally accepted as the watershed moment in the non-scripted TV revolution. It also offers decent social commentary, usually in the form of the contestants interactions (and not in the contests themselves, which are scripted by the producers). Previous seasons have divided camps by age and gender, but the best commentary has not arisen from these situations. It comes from moments in which, for instance, a female contestant questions a male contestant’s need to be the dominant tribal force. While this is fairly cliché social commentary, it isn’t bad for reality TV.
jeremy SENGLY
12/20 September 2006
Survivor is particularly critical of America itself. During each season, a microcosm of the country is made when Americans conquer a deserted area and plant the best and worst of our values, our greed, the need for progress, selfishness, unity, hard work, and lust. In essence, it becomes a land devoid of the positives of modern society but replete with the ills. There is no electricity or running water, but the contestants act selfishly with a capitalistic fervor not generally present in those devoid of their basic needs. Now, Survivor’s producers have added race to the mix of drama-instigators.
Scripted television has been racialized for decades in terms of the target market. The vast majority of TV is aimed at middle-class white audiences, while there are select shows aimed at marginalized demographics. Fox has a reputation for attracting a more white middle-class viewership, while UPN has a history of catering to blacks. Reality TV, to date, has been devoid of such programs. Of course there are reality TV shows about non-whites. Flavor of Love and Being Bobby Brown center around washed up entertainers Flavor Flav and Bobby Brown. These shows are not aimed at a black audience, however they tend to showcase moments with undertones of racial stereotypes. Mr. Flav’s date at a privately reserved Kentucky Fried Chicken, for instance, where he orders maca-
Now, Survivor’s producers have added race to the mix of drama-instigators. roni and cheese and coleslaw, or Mr. Brown’s insistence that he does not get DWIs but DWBs: “Driving While Bobby’s.” The fact that these shows are on VH1 and Bravo, respectively, only proves that they are aimed at white Americans. The same audience that watches Project Runway has Being Bobby Brown promoted to it. Survivor: Cook Islands will not solve this problem, as it is instead likely to give further examples of racial differences both perceived and factual. Americans will watch it to judge the contestants by or against the social stereotypes about each race. As such, the sought-after middle class white demographic will eagerly anticipate a white victory, with the black camp surviving only on the white camp’s financial aid. The Asian-American camp being smart but not strong enough to survive, and the Hispanic camp scheming only to cross the border into the white camp where they will seek jobs that could go to the white survivors. Or, they will be flabbergasted to find out that these stereotypes are not reality when each race is pitted against each other for survival, proving that racism itself is only as real as the cat-fights on Road Rules. Either way, the producers of Survivor won’t care—as long as ratings are high.
Beginning Sept. 14, Survivor: Cook Islands will air Thursdays at 7 p.m. on CBS, channel 4.
\Sound & Vision
Electric Arc
Kate Draper
By Ian Power A shimmering beam of white light has arrived, guaranteed to brighten your life. Electric Arc, a serial radio show with a collaboration of writers from Minneapolis’ Lit 6 Project, has joined with Creative Electric Studios and successfully produced a radio show that is also fun to watch. Electric Arc is so original, so hilarious and unheard of, that trying to find a comparison for it would be like picking your favorite color – on acid. The Lit 6 Project, spawned from the minds of four dissenters of normalcy, is a group of creatives that has picked up their own torch—and run with it. They are writing and writing and drinking and writing, living their fiction together in a South Minneapolis house. Every so often they resurface and broadcast these memoirs of their lives to any and all. And you need to see it. For the last year and a half, the foursome have been sharing their lives, touring the city and performing for a growing mix of friends and fans. The show is also posted online through their Web site, www.lit6project.com. Currently beginning their third season, the troupe is beginning to pick up speed. This fall they will be touring through New York as well as Chicago before coming back to finish up the last shows in Minneapolis this December. The show’s growing popularity has also attracted new sponsors, a musical act scheduled to accompany each show, and even created some buzz as to whether Electric Arc will be put on broadcast radio. The Wake had the opportunity to witness first hand this season’s opener at the Ritz Theatre in Northeast Minne-
apolis. The show was accompanied by several songs from the group Big Trouble, a collection of Minneapolis musicians, including two members of Twin Cities’ own Heiruspecs. Big Trouble, who bunked in the Lit 6 Project’s house for a week before the show, was intertwined into the performance, serving as a powerful musical guest. Electric Arc’s core writers, Sam Osterhout, Stephanie Wilbur Ash, Brady Bergeson and Geoff Herbach, are as unique as they are entertaining, each fitting an integral niche in the show’s increasingly sporadic narrative. The
The idea was that they would break free from the rules and stuffiness of formal readings and have fun, all while throwing one (or two or three) back with friends. format, loosely, is a collection of monologues and confessions by the four housemates, tied together through narration and clever dialogue against the backdrop of the show’s spaghetti western/bluegrass house musicians. Throw in random guest cameos (Bjork, Oscar Wilde, Alan Greenspan) and you’ve got yourself a modern Red Skelton. Only drunker. The Lit 6 Project was born out of a yearning to create a literary environment where everyone was welcome—authors and alcoholics alike. The idea was that they would break free from the rules and stuffiness of formal readings and have fun, all while throwing back one (or two
or three) with friends. “These readings were like drunken orgies,” confessed Osterhout, when describing early shows. “And it worked.” The stories, he continues, are more like the inebriated conversations you have with friends across barstools than formal prose. After a few bar readings and a growing following, the four writers moved in together, teamed up with their friends at Creative Electric Studios, an art gallery rated the best in Minneapolis by City Pages in 2005, and Electric Arc radio station began. Now two seasons later, the cast is still writing, growing, and performing. But above all, they’re having fun. The show has grown to include the hilarious voices of fake celebrities: a prepubescent paperboy, a faded southern liquor store clerk, and Paul Dickinson, a Minneapolis-based poet who serves as the crew’s punk rock guru neighbor. This is the genius of Electric Arc: it doesn’t try to do anything up front, besides entertain. It serves to help people remember that good writing and performance can be both simple and wonderful, even outside of academia. All in all, to see an Electric Arc radio show is to make a conscious decision to become a part of something that still dares to matter and doesn’t fail to entertain.
Electric Arc will perform Oct. 14 at the Ritz Theater; lit6project.com.
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Reviews
Shea Bartel: The Last Planetarium By Nathaniel Olson There are techno artists whose output sounds like nothing more than drum machines and synthesizers pounding out beats to keep the ecstasy-and-dance club crowd nodding. Then there are the actual musicians of the genre, whose work surprises even the most cynical listeners. Local musician Shea Bartel is a prime example of the latter. Following in the footsteps of electronica heroes The Books and Lemon Jelly, Bartel has crafted a concept album that’s nothing short of a joy to listen to. “The Last Planetarium” employs Bartel’s fluency in multiple instruments, as well as computer programs, to create songs similar to biology film soundtracks or tunes overheard in darkened rooms, glittering in man-made constellations. The CD, which came wrapped in a sheet of computer paper, is a surprising display of talent and originality.
Bartel–a painting student at MCAD by day–uses electric piano coupled with excited drum pulses to make peppy, upbeat rhythms on tracks like “Spirit Quest in the Delta Quadrant;” while the tune “Space is Warm at Night” utilizes subdued drums and saxophone sounds to produce eerie, haunting tones. The listener can’t help but recall elementary school trips to the science museum, the first time they saw 2001, or their long abandoned aspirations of space travel. The record’s cover art is equally space-aged, with modest sketches of stars, the moon rising, and a telescope aimed upward. One thing’s for sure: the sky’s the only limit for this budding musician and artist.
Bartel can be contacted at myspace.com/directadanger.
Cale Parks: Illuminated Manuscript (Polyvinyl) By Ian Power Cale Parks’ 2006 release, Illuminated Manuscript, is an eclectic yet surprisingly warm collection of ambient electronica. Due to release in the U.S. on Sept. 26, Parks’ music follows along the vein of Dust Brothers, Mum, and DJ Shadow, with 14 tracks mixing software and actual instruments. Recorded while Parks was playing full-time with indie band Aloha, the fundamentals for the album were recorded on bedroom floors with a four-track mixer. Brooklyn-based Parks has had a hand in a number of projects over the last few years, recording with dozens of acts including Cex, Joan Of Arc, Chin Up Chin Up, and Owen. Parks’ latest contains elements of acid jazz and trip-hop, yet to confine it to the parameters of those genres would be false.
This is not bar music, nor something you can sing along to. There is a time and place for Cale Parks. Frankly, it is music to get sneaky to. Although fun, I warn you to be careful. If listening to Parks on foot, trips from lecture hall to hall can easily feel like an intricate cinematic scene, the kind where several people are chasing you. But don’t fret. With Parks’ sporadic vocals and mix of keyboard and mallet instruments blaring in your ears, you’ll feel as though you can easily elude them. It probably doesn’t hurt that Parks’ songs are extremely conducive to rhythm symbiosis, in which the beat syncs up with the speed of everything in your scope of vision. Oh what utter sweet blissful harmony.
myspace.com/caleparksmusic
EVents Calendar wednesday 9.20
thursday 9.21
SE VEN RE A SONS TO GE T OFF YOUR A SS friday 9.22
saturday 9.23
sunday 9.24
monday 9.25
tuesday 9.26
WHAT: Icarus Project
WHO: Mates of State
WHO: Revolver Modele
WHAT: Force Fields
WHO: The Battle Royale
WHAT: 36 Hours
WHO: Paul Shambroom
WHERE: Arise!
WHERE: First Avenue
WHERE: Turf Club
WHERE: Creative Electric Studios
WHERE: Triple Rock Social Club
WHERE: Bryant Lake Bowl
WHERE: Weinstein Gallery
14/20 September 2006
\Literary Submission
Folktales of a Hopeless Romantic By Poncho Murdoch Esq. Does anyone else feel as helpless as I do? Are there any other lost souls out there lighting matches into the wind and wondering what the fuck we are doing here? Does anyone else feel as if happy hour is actually the least happy hour of the day? Or am I the only one left? Sometimes, late at night I open all the windows in my room and let the ice and air wash over me, to create a balance between the outer and inner, some lukewarm equilibrium of feelings. I have dreams these days where awful things happen and I am framed for them, sneered at like Mussolini, and then thrown in some dank and dingy cell in some subterranean dungeon of my own choosing. They are my dreams, so what does that say about me? When I wake up from these little cognitive adventures I dress and then ever so often muster up the courage to go to class. I used to think that I was a unique and soulful character, that my melancholy was one of a kind. But that is what everyone wants to think. We all believe our lives to either be some brooding tragedy or the greatest epic of all time, or both. I walk from one lecture to the next shuffling between hordes of unhappy or ignorantly blissful students and I wonder whether or not they remember how to whistle, or if they know the feeling of heavy fishing net sliding between their fingers. The tiny perfections of the world are what peak my curiosity. Without them I would be a mollusk just waiting to be boiled down and gutted. But we can still pretend, we can still bask in the idea that our lives are big and epic and wonderful however dishonest it may be. Perhaps this is the key.
known? Perhaps Arm and Hammer will sit in my back pockets now, fairy dust of the 21st century.
I tried to remember how Gracie had ended up in my hotel room. I tried to remember why I still had a hotel room two days after my flight was scheduled to return to the Midwest. Why was I still in St. Petersburg? I realized this wasn’t my hotel room. Suddenly my mind wakes up a little bit more and more pressing issues are brought to the forefront. Who the fuck is Gracie? Where in the hell is Laura? My feet are dirty as sin. Snow is falling heavily again. Gracie shifts in her sleep and I make my move. Put on pants. Button shirt.
Events you will be attending who: Joshua Poteat and Allison Titus, two award winning poets. what: Reading when: 09/22 at 7:30 p.m where: Opposable Thumbs Books who: Juliana Spahr and Claudia Rankine what: Reading when: 09/27 at 7:30 p.m where: Frederick R. Weisman Art Museum who: The Wake what: Open mic reading when: 09/29 at 7:00 p.m where: Manhattan Loft who: David Treuer, from the University of Minnesota what: Reading from his new novel when: 09/29 at 7:30 p.m where: The Fitzgerald Theater who: Naomi Shibab Nye what: Reading when: 09/30 where: The Loft who: Thomas Glave what: Reading when:10/27 where: The Loft who: Isabel Allende what: Reading from Ines of My Soul when: 11/17 where: The Fitzgerald Theater
Stuff tie into pocket. Flush socks down toilet. Socks clog toilet with condom and cigarette butts. Pace quickens. GRAB KEYS GRAB JACKET slip shoe after shoe onto filthy stems.
Flash Number 1: In which things are brought to the table and first shimmering introductions are made.
She had me on the floor in St. Petersburg on Thursday evening. Jesus-heaven I was awful that night. The musky smell of whiskey and boredom hanging off me like stale deodorant. The feeling of buttermilk between my fingers on everything I touched. Gracie is fastened around me, her legs wrapped into mine like some flesh pretzel one half baked the other still soft. Her breast has fallen out of the top of her nightgown or maybe we had left it that way. Who’s to say? My cigarettes lay with the rest of my life scattered about on top of that awful hotel carpetingcheckered pattern smelling of baking soda and adultery. They neutralize each other nowadays. Who would have
Look at scotch bottle. Recognize its antihero reputation. Look at scotch bottle Become secretly impressed.
Take scotch bottle. Close Curtain.
Intermission.
JJ
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Literary/
I like to read. Send me submissions. Smile at being in print. JDuellman@wakemag.org Submission
Dawn in Stadium Village by Gregory N Wright Here I am, lukewarm coffee sprinkled with a meager ration of cigarettes in the luminous hour before the sun burns the air and gives rise to that wholly industrial mood of the day. The ka-chunk and the whirring of engines as they pass by on the road Dazed glances, frantic-paced people waiting for Arby’s or Quiznos, some semi-coherent homeless man stumbles by from one place to another, heat shimmers off the sidewalk, people wait for the bus in front of Burger King, and garbage flutters down the street. There’s no romance to daily life in the city: it’s too selfconscious, too purposeful. Right now, none of that exists. It’s quiet here, and the coffee still has that hint of warmth that makes it drinkable. Cold coffee is like death, it vaguely resembles what it was, but there’s nothing pleasurable about it. Strangely, I’m reminded of Jackie Kennedy in her postassassination years, quietly letting the oceans of Vodka wash over her broken memories. I wonder, someone of her breeding, what would have been her brand of choice? Was she disposed to any brand loyalties, or did she just desperately guzzle whatever was within her arm’s reach? Did she have anyone send for the firewater, or did she go there herself? Did she bring the bottle up to the register, hiding behind her trademark over-sized sunglasses?
16/20 September 2006
I almost picture her in that pink dress that she wore on the day that is so firmly etched in our minds, Zapruder, sitting alone at some nondescript linoleum table, her puffy eyes focused downward. The open bottle would stand there; the foil would have been peeled away desperately. Uncorked, contents half-gone. Imagine it, an abusive, alcoholic and philandering father. Husband hooked on methamphetamine and a philanderer himself. Husband shot and killed next to her, blood everywhere. An expectant public that could not stop molesting the deepest recesses of her life. Yet, that stoicism: gritting her teeth in some elegant smile, and drowning the screams down in the hazy depths of drink. For all, nothing but a mirror was she. Tabula Rasa. Here, the iridescent blue of the predawn light is a moment in this morning that will soon pass; the birds are starting to chirp. For those who are left living to ponder the better part of what could have been is the only hope they’ll ever know. For those that died, perhaps they’ve found some peace. Jackie’s vodka bottle may, yet, still sit on some eternal table, where she contemplates her woozy loneliness. Already the light has grown more than I like, and the sky has taken on that gray color of morning.
\Athletics
The U of M houses the most successful men’s crew team in the nation By Lyndsey Danberry The only thing interrupting the placid water is the swift and rapid rowing of the University of Minnesota men’s crew team. The ripples that spread across the Mississippi River showcase 50 years of dedication. Crew, a club team that was started in 1957, has left a lasting impression on these waters and this campus. The crew team at the U was founded by Oliver Bogen, Lloyd Ohme and Dr. Charles Good. The team began practicing on the Mississippi River with equipment donated by the University of Wisconsin. Bogen lead the team as head coach for the first eight years. Fifty years later, men’s crew has proven to be a competitive racing team representing the University of Minnesota at regattas throughout the country. With head coach Thomas Altenhofen, freshman coach Ed Podnieks and two assistant coaches, Fred Orsted and John Stanochm, men’s crew is able to compete against almost every collegiate rowing program. “The men’s crew at this University is a great opportunity to compete at the collegiate level. Despite being a club sport we are still as competitive as you can get,” crew member Sean McNulty said. Except for the four coaches, the men’s crew is run by the athletes themselves. A board of 12 members is elected each year and the 50 or so members participate in the sport for fun and for pride. Certain technicalities prohibit the team from becoming a varsity sport but fundraising, dedication and loyalty have allowed the men’s crew to be one of the most successful crew clubs in the nation. “Although we can’t offer scholarships,
with the help of alumni and the university we hold our own,” said McNulty. “We have a very strong tradition.” Being a club team gives them an advantage of being a tight knit group with a unique culture. Everyone on the team is at the University to get a degree, not a shoe contract or a scholarship. The result is a team with members who truly love the sport and who are dedicated. Unlike varsity sports, the team is not limited to a certain number of practice hours, allowing them to practice as much as they wish. “Making crew fit in with college life is not easy, and everyone has to sacrifice something else in their life to make crew happen for them,” said McNulty.
“Fundraising, dedication and loyalty have allowed the men’s crew to be one of the most successful crew clubs in the nation.” Since 1990 the men’s crew has captured an impressive five National Intercollegiate Championships, 15 National Club Championships and 16 Midwest Regional Championship titles. All while competing against some of the nation’s top varsity crew teams. The team kicks off the season at Des Moines on Sept. 30. Then it’s off to Rockford, Ill. on Oct. 8, Boston Oct. 21-22 and they finish the fall season in Iowa City, Iowa on Oct. 29. The big event to watch out for though is Head of the Mississippi on Oct. 7, raced on our very own Mississippi River. “Our freshman team was great last year,” said team captain Matt Harmann. “Good recruiting helps to build a strong team for the future.” The team is hoping for a very successful 50th year.
Brennan Vance
Your ad here. mnorris@wakemag.org
If you’re interested in being a part of the men’s crew, look for the crew boat on the lawn near the mall. The men’s crew will be recruiting along with the women’s rowing for the fall season.
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Athletics/
Overused Storylines and the Underplayed Twins By J.P. Frederick It seems that Brad Radke’s right arm could shatter as he was warming up before the first inning, and the gritty veteran could refuse to leave the game, begin to pitch a knuckle curve with his left arm and throw a perfect game with 26 strikeouts. Anyone on the streets would hear from the sports media that this is the latest overblown nail in Barry Bonds’ coffin. Or T.O.’s workout routine. Or how disgraceful USA basketball is to all things American: McDonalds, Dick Cheney, Oprah, the Mexican flag, Bobbleheads and people who bought the Paris Hilton album. What do the Minnesota Twins have to do to get some fuckin’ national coverage? Not from you, you’ve given the Twins all the gratitude you can offer and then you give more. You’ve shaved your back hair into that little “TC” logo. You’ve heroically delivered letters beyond enemy lines into Canada to tell imprisoned Twins fans tales of the larger-than-life lumberjack, Justin Morneau. You’ve beaten Red Sox fans with whiffle bats and aluminum bats tied together with your ‘91 Homer Hankey while screaming “We don’t need Ortiz now!” You were even kind enough to add Carlos Silva to your friends on MySpace. You’ve done more than enough.
“Fox Sports should fire every reporter who hasn’t raced to the Dome to watch some Minnesota Twins baseball game.” It’s ESPN that needs to start giving the Twins some foolish tender love. Fox Sports should fire every reporter who hasn’t raced to the Dome to watch some Minnesota Twins baseball game. Thousands and thousands of reporters from Los Angeles to Tokyo should be flooding into the Twin Cities to catch a game.
18/20 September 2006
Because of a slow start, most baseball watchers have no grasp of what the Twins have been doing this summer. Sure, bus drivers in Seattle know Joe Mauer because of his note-worthy sideburns. And anyone with a God-fearing and flag-waving soul knows Liriano and Santana. But the names Nathan, Cuddyer, Punto, Bartlett, Neshek, Redmond and Boof are foreign objects to anyone outside of Minnesota. Instead of giving the Twins their due a little something extra, you know, for the effort, the talking heads that discuss baseball relentlessly chatter about the Red and White Sox. Or they go to great lengths to explain that the Detroit Tigers played horribly the past few years and gee, aren’t they good this year? There is consistent babbling about the flavor of the week in the National League, a league where a sub .500 record will get you a playoff berth, victory parades and your pick from the FBI’s cache of illegal goods. But above all else, the experts explain and diagram and sing about the Yankees. Gardy, while milling about in his dank basement on a full-moon night looking for his stash, could be bit by a radioactive centipede, gain super strength and a hundred legs and begin to fight crime by day and win baseball games by night. But the Red Sox pulling within 9 games of the Wild-Card is all Fox Sports would be talking about. But an A-Rod error would still be the lead story on SportsCenter, along with nine minutes of expert analysis on why A-Rod just can’t seem to get the sand out of his jock in Yankee Stadium. The Twins just can’t get any respect. Accept that from Tambourine Man. He’s always playing a song for them in the jingle-jangle morning.
Jeremy SENGLY
BASTARD!
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Awards Best w chick ay to trea e t dry to n noodle an upset soup s ast and a tomach: hono ra piece Wors wate ble men t of tion: r fact t way for a crack supe hat th s ers a r hon terrib eir su ub-shop t nd orab babie o hid b l e sa f le or yo e the s u: na re dry to ... tasty t mention: m asty b e ast B it “Po est re abies tbelly veng ... an s” e: Mo d Best ntezu way f M m o st iro a’s re or a p his b nic re venge utt resid risett veng ent to e e: as fart: k A lanis out Mor-
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