Monster Trucks! /12
In Defense of Anna Nicole /11 PLUS
The Weekly Student Magazine of the University of Minnesota
Altered Esthetics / AfricaNOW / More 28 February–06 March 2007
Editorial/ Editor-in-Chief Jenny Odegard
Managing Editor Eric Price
Athletics Editor Nick Gerhardt
Campus Editor Janessa Dohse
Literary Editor Jacob Duellman
Sound & Vision Editor Alice Vislova
Voices Editor Nathaniel Olson
Editorial Assistants Dan Olmschenk, Tammy Quan, Brad Tucker
Staff Writer Carl Carpenter
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 Ethan Stark Illustrators Hilary Falk, Dave Hagen, Mike Mason, Jeremy Sengly
Contributing Writers Mark Andrews, Carl Carpenter, Sage Dahlen, Cole Dennis, Janessa Dohse, McKenna Ewen, Jengly, Nattie Olson, Jenny Odegard, That Bird Outside The Window, Brad Tucker, Andrea Vargo, Alice Vislova
Photographers Angie Myhre, Christopher Roberts, Rahima Schwenkbeck, Ethan Stark
/5:20 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 Readers, Sunday afternoon, in the parking lot of the co-op, a stranger talked me in to giving him $5.
Monster Trucks!/12 Sound & Vision/04 VOICES/10 CAMPUS/14 PHOTOGRAPHY/17 ATHLETICS/18 LITERARY/20 BASTARD/22
He said that he was out of gas, and had only 90 cents. A few feet back a small, beat up, red hatchback car sat mostly open, with a small plastic gas can next to it. He asked if there was any way that I could help. I thought about it for a few seconds, and decided that short of trying to take gas out of my car and put it into his (which would take far too much time), I could hand him the $5 bill in my wallet. So I handed it over and mentioned a gas station a few blocks down, hoping that this contribution would be enough to help him get wherever it was that he needed to go. Turning and walking through the thick snow to buy lunch, I wondered if I had been scammed. If this had occurred at night, or in a different place, I certainly would not have given a person 5 dollars, or any dollars for that matter. Which begs the question of why my trust in another person is dependent on lighting and location. The co-op at 1 pm on a Sunday seemed legit, but the same story at 10 pm on a Tuesday would have had me running in the other direction. My differing reactions may be a result of my social conditioning as a woman not to make too much eye contact or open my wallet in public, especially at night. Under a darker sky, the general public is a much more sinister population – re-enforcing the grand tradition of belief that only “bad” people are out at night. But I am not sure that there is more of a likelihood of evil lurking on the street corners day or night, since as far as I’m aware there is no law of nocturnal behavior for ex-cons. And while I recognize the mystery and therefore danger of low lighting, I still can’t quite wrap my mind around why, as a society, we still enforce the concept of evil-only-comes-out-at-night. And yes, I know that last week’s letter was a rant about how we should share more. But the issue of helping strangers is complicated and I will probably need a few more issues to work out my official stance. Jenny Odegard
Editor-in-Chief
Sound & Vision/
The Science Museum of Minnesota debunks one of the world’s most divisive social issues in its exhibit, RACE: Are We So Different. As one of the first museums in the country to confront the controversial topic of race and racism, the exhibit shows that race does not exist from a scientific standpoint, but is very real from a social perspective. The project is promoting national discussion of race and encouraging people in the local area to start talking. “Race is a part of virtually every aspect of American society and culture and affects each of us in both small and profound ways,” says Robert Garfinkle, the Science Museum’s Program Director for Special Projects. Because we face race-based challenges each and every day, it’s important that we understand the way race works. The Science Museum of Minnesota is working in collaboration with the American Anthropological Association to kick off the five-year national tour of the RACE exhibit. The exhibit incorporates the culture of the Twin Cities area into the presentation making it hit closer to home for Minnesota residents. “This exhibit gives visitors the opportunity to look at the way race touches our lives and the lives of the generations that came before us,” Garfinkle says. The exhibit tackles race and racism from three different perspectives: scientific, historical and social. While each section stands alone, together, they help define the idea of race. The exhibit is the first of its kind to incorporate all separate ideas into one exhibit. The beginning of the exhibit disproves the generalization
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angie myhre
that races are genetically independent. It offers evolutionary explanations for different skin tones and other common racial differences, such as the presence of Sickle Cell and varied heart rates. This section also shows the similarities between people of other races. Interestingly, we often have more in common biologically with people of other races than our own. The exhibit is constantly challenging observers’ stereotypes about different races through interactive activities. In one activity, a sentence is read aloud and the listener must identify the speaker based on a series of pictures, an extremely difficult task.
powerful video of people sharing how racism affected their lives In the final portion, the exhibit features a variety of race related issues that are present in the world today. It discusses the controversy of the achievement gap and argues that the causes are environmental, not biological. It mentions wealth discrepancy between different races and offers an explanation. One of the most compelling displays is an exploration of the United States census. It shows how more and more races continue to be added to the census year after year and how different people have changed races over various time periods based on the census information, further deflating the idea of race. Although discussion is already picking up for those that have visited the exhibit, the Science Museum of Minnesota is working to expand its message into the community. The RACE exhibit features “Talking Circles,” an opportunity for visitors, often students, to reflect on the exhibit and add to the discussion. The museum is also planning to premiere a short theater piece written by local high school student based off personal experiences.
In the historical portion, the RACE exhibit discusses the origin of racism as well as how those effects played out socially, economically, and politically in the past several hundred years. One part shows the struggle of scientists to successfully divide the population into different species according to race. Another part plays a very
Stirring discussion, the RACE exhibit travels to new territory to share a message that needs to be heard. It runs until May 6th. Admission to RACE is included in the regular Science Museum exhibit gallery admission ($9.50 for adults, $7 for student and senior, and $6.50 for children ages 4 to 12). This is a powerful exhibit based on the foundation of the Twin Cities. In a world defined by individuality, the RACE exhibit exposes that we are more alike than we may think.
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Both Sides of the Brain
courtesy altered esthetics
by Sage Dahlen In our society there is often a division placed between art and science. Proof of this is in every CLA joke made by jeering IT students. But is it possible for art and science to truly get along? Jamie Schumacher would like to think so, and she is not alone. Schumacher, a soft-spoken yet eloquent woman, is the curator for Altered Esthetics, a fairly recent addition to the art gallery community of northeast Minneapolis. Currently, the gallery is preparing for a new exhibit: (Scientific) Aesthetics. A friend of Schumacher’s, a geology student at the University of Minnesota, generated the idea for this exhibit citing that people often do not recognize how artful things like geology can be. “There is so much going on in science that is artistic,” said Schumacher, noting that artists, likewise, are using science in their work. Schumacher moved to Minnesota from California three years ago because of the strong artist community she saw while visiting friends in the Twin Cities. She had never seen the idea of the bond between art and science explored in a gallery setting and decided to put out an open call for artists. There was no entry fee, as Altered Esthetics’ goal is to be accessible to all artists. Whether they are students just starting out, or people who have been developing their
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craft for 50 years, Schumacher wants Altered Esthetics to be available to them. The result of all this is a collection of artwork engaging both sides of the brain created by about 45 different artists, ranging from local to international. Some of the artists have exhibited work in shows at Altered Esthetics previously, which Schumacher feels is very flattering. “One of our biggest compliments is to see returning artists again and again,” said Schumacher, though she ecstatically discusses the process of recruiting new artists.
Something less conventional made purely out of their passion for art, might only find its home at Altered Esthetics. Providing a source of sustainability for these local artists, so that they can continue to live and work in the area, is one of the main goals at Altered Esthetics. Schumacher feels the gallery gives many artists the opportunity to exhibit work that they might not be able to show elsewhere. Artists might make functional ceramics to sell to a wider market, but something less conventional made purely out of their passion for art, might only find its home at Altered Esthetics.
Some of the artists featured in (Scientific) Aesthetics chose to reflect science in the literal sense, such as geologic photographs that look like human faces. Others focus more on the science of people’s personal life such as work by one of the contributing artists, Janet Morrow, who uses art to explain the loss of her hearing. Bonnie Gloris contributes “D Composition,” a mixed media piece portraying the entire process of an organism being recycled, incorporating colorful papers in a variety of textures. An untitled group of photographs by Sharon Koelblinger shows views of the world refracting through glass, providing an alternate view of picturesque outdoor scenes. Other interesting works in the exhibit include fractal imaging, drawings of black holes, an installation piece made out of yarn and a wide variety of other subject matters and mediums. The multitude of artist submissions means that the exhibit will be salon-style and distributed across two gallery spaces. There will be an opening reception for (Scientific) Aesthetics on March 2 from 7-9pm. This event is free of charge, but donations will be accepted. The gallery is also open Tuesdays and Thursdays 1-7pm, Saturdays 1-5pm, and holds an opening reception from 7-9pm every first Friday of the month.
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AfricaNOW at the Walker Art Center Amajuba: Like Doves We Rise By Jenny Odegard As the stage lights come up, five people stand in small bowls, singing and motioning as though they’re in a shower. One by one, they recall being children in South Africa, and the moment that they realized things were changing, and they were becoming adults. Each of them speak of the difficulty of the past and the desire to move forward. As the sequence comes to a close, one actor describes the past as covered in dust, and says that “until we go back and claim each piece, we will never be free.”
the time. A few simple objects adorn the stage and the actors all wear black T-shirts and jeans. The focus is on the stories they have to tell, which Farber does an excellent job showcasing.
Each of these actors grew up in South Africa during apartheid, a period of colonization much like segregation in the southern United States, when European powers enforced separateness between races according to an assigned legal classification. Amajuba: Like Doves We Rise, is the third of a four-part exhibition at The Walker, called AfricaNOW: Currents of a Continent.
Many of the stories and emotions are easily relatable, making Amajuba: Like Doves We Rise, a common ground for viewers. It also helps to better understand the communality of the human condition, regardless of continent or culture.
The play, written and directed by Yael Farber, deals with coming of age during apartheid, and the difficulties of a generation subjected to the oppressive environment of
The actors demonstrate the difficulty of growing up without enough food and the struggles of being orphans in a poor community. They retell stories of hunger and of trying to survive each day through relationships.
In each sequence, they deal with the space between childhood and adulthood, and the ways in which the apartheid effected their transition and changed their lives. In one man’s story, he tells his experience being of mixed race and of his family following his African father to a designated settlement away from their home. He illustrates the difficulty of becoming a part of a new community, and not quite fitting in because of his background. Towards the end, the main character of the sequence tells the audience of his wishes to go back to a time before the European powers had labeled and relocated him. He compares this transition to learning to swim when one is no longer a child: an embarrassing struggle every day. Each story has something more to add to the complex picture Farber paints of becoming an adult during apartheid in South Africa. Many of the stories and emotions are easily relatable, making Amajuba: Like Doves We Rise, a common ground for viewers. It also helps to better understand the communality of the human condition, regardless of continent or culture. Next in the sequence of AfricaNOW events is a band from Benin, in West Africa, called the Gangbé Brass Band. They will be on stage April 14th, co-presented by and held at the Cedar Cultural Center. Their influences and sounds range from Afrobeat to American Jazz, offering a globally conscious brand of music that The Walker says “personifies the global nature of Africa now.” courtesy walker art center
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Hippies in a Frame by Alice Vislova The San Francisco Psychedelic exhibit at the Minneapolis Institute of Art presents a strange juxtaposition. It is slightly uncomfortable to see photographs embodying the boundary-snubbing acid trip that is the 1960s counterculture movement lined up in one of Minnesota’s most respectable art museums. “[I convinced myself] that the Institute should build a collection of photographs of the late 1960s San Francisco musicians, a genre overlooked by most other art museums,” explains assistant curator Christian A. Peterson. Peterson’s idea took shape and the San Francisco Psychedelic exhibit was born: a collection of concert posters, CD cover photos, and other miscellaneous art reflecting the brief explosion of “creativity and idealism” that took place in the Haight-Asbury neighborhood in the late ’60s.
According to the information desk at the MIA, the exhibit is meant to be viewed critically as a display of photography, but the cultural implications are unavoidable. The occasion extracts oddballs from the most remote corners of the Twin Cities and assembles them happily in one place. Aging members of Generation X quietly recount memories and teenaged hipsters feign vast knowledge of rock history.
Bour-Schilla stood near the headphones. Bour-Schilla described San Francisco Psychedelic as the “most popular photography exhibit” that the MIA has ever presented. He described the crowd as surprisingly diverse, consisting of visitors of diverse ages. Bour-Schilla agreed that some in the crowd were “definitely nostalgic,” and although himself not a member of Gen. X, conveyed a heightened interest in the imaginative E.P. Covers.
A popular feature of the museum is the three sets of headphones, through which museum visitors can get a chance to sample the music of some of the artists whose photographs are featured in the exhibit. Fighting my way to one set of headphones, I sampled The Jefferson Airplanes’ hit “Volunteers,” as well as Moby Grape’s soft ballad “8:05.”
On the outskirts of the exhibit stood an older guard, with a long face and a puzzling accent. Hesitant at first to speak to me, this man, who wished to remain anonymous, revealed himself to be a former member of the countercultural movement and resident of the Haight-Ashbury community. His eyes lit up as he described that period in his life as “a creative time, a beautiful time,” and finished by declaring, “My whole life was fueled by those years.” Although happy that the museum has an exhibit on this topic, he seemed disappointed that it did not present 1960’s San Francisco in the grandeur he remembered it.
A younger, enthusiastic museum guard named James
The older guard’s words brought meaning to the art and photography on display. Bob Seidermann’s close-ups of band members faces showed hopes of freedom and peace gleam in his subjects eyes, and the assertively colorful Grateful Dead posters conjured images of out of control raves at the Avalon.
“It’s pretty interesting, I had never heard of a lot of these photographers before, apparently George W. Bush’s ideas of peace, love and understanding are different from mine.” I spoke to museum visitor Gregory T. Ochs who stood examining Elaine Mayes photograph of the Steve Miller Band. “That is an interesting effect,” he pondered at the multiple layers of the band members’ heads. Growing up in northern Minnesota and hearing news of the hippie movement only second-hand, Ochs had a less romanticized approach to the exhibit. “It’s pretty interesting, I had never heard of a lot of these photographers before,” he says. Ochs skepticism was directed less at the MIA, and more at the hippie movement itself. In a somewhat unrelated but nonetheless valid statement, Ochs finishes by declaring: “apparently George W. Bush’s ideas of peace, love and understanding are different from mine.” Viewing the exhibit through the eyes of the older guard, I couldn’t help but agree with his inferred skepticism. Although interesting and informative, the exhibit doesn’t do justice to the movement, presenting a watered down version of 1960s Haight-Ashbury. The exhibit is excellent if you are interested in the history of the era or in photography techniques. But do not go in expecting to be swept in a whirlwind of “sex, drugs and rock n’ roll,” because you will be sourly disappointed. Herb Greene, Jefferson Airplane, 1967.
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courtesy Minneapolis Institute of Arts
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The Shape of Things
courtesy twin cities theater co.
by Brad Tucker Sunday, February 11 the Twin Cities Theater Company presented the last of eight performances of The Shape of Things at the Old Arizona Theater. Local acting teacher and consultant Randy Reyes directed the play, written by Neil Labute in 2001. Buddy Haardt, a University of Minnesota Guthrie Theater Professional Actor Training Program student, stars as Adam, a somewhat nerdy and socially awkward undergrad at a small university. While working as a guard at the local art museum Adam runs into Evelyn (Kate Lawrey), a rebellious art student working on her masters thesis. Adam, who has hardly even talked to a woman since he came to college, is immediately flattered by the attention Evelyn gives him. After the two begin dating he starts to change, responding to some gentle prodding from his new girlfriend. He ditches his prescription glasses in favor of contacts, begins styling his hair, and throws out his favorite jacket, which he wore everywhere before Evelyn came along. Julliard-trained director Randy Reyes leads a stellar cast through this exploration of the concepts of art and truth. Haardt steals the show with his completely honest and down-to-earth portrayal of Adam. He manages to throw Adam’s smallest mannerisms into every scene, from his nervous laugh to his self-conscious posture and facial expressions. Lawrey also shines as the pretentious and manipulative Evelyn. The Guthrie Theater Actor Training Program senior captures Evelyn’s sexy, over-confident attitude, and makes it easy to see how the gullible Adam would fall for her ruse.
Supporting actors Melissa Anne Murray and Andrew Hovelson (a co-founder of TCTC), both graduates of the Guthrie Actor Training Program, give solid performances as an engaged couple who are dragged into Evelyn’s conniving game. Murray, a veteran of the Minneapolis theater scene, is quiet and reserved. Her character Jenny once had a crush on Adam, and it becomes obvious that she is the right girl for him. Hovelson received the most laughs from the small crowd at the Old Arizona, playing Adam’s former roommate, the overbearing, macho Phillip. One of the most compelling scenes of the play features a bitter argument between Hovelson and Lawrey that helps lead to the disintegration of Adam and Phillip’s relationship.
The music blends seamlessly with the sparse set and small cast, assisting in the transition from scene-to-scene. The sparse set, which sits on Old Arizona’s ground-level stage, features only a couple of props: a couch to represent an apartment, a table for the coffee shop, a futon for the bedroom. Video projections accompanying these objects onto a large screen behind the stage. Here we see the intended backdrop for the scenes. When Adam and Evelyn meet at the art museum, a shot of people mingling at an art exhibit shows on the screen. During a moment at Phillip’s apartment, the accompanying video
features a small fish tank in front of window overlooking a small city. Between scenes the actors and two assistants quickly maneuvere the props into place, while music from the Yeah Yeah Yeahs plays. The music blends seamlessly with the sparse set and small cast, assisting in the transition from scene-to-scene. “Exploring art through the performing art of theater was something that really intrigued me and I encouraged the designers to use the stage as a canvas and the actors as raw material,” Reyes continues. When the semester is over Adam is invited to view the unveiling of Evelyn’s thesis project. The last few months have seen his relationship with Evelyn escalate to the point where he has asked for her hand in marriage. He arrives at the presentation to find that he has been the subject of her project the entire semester. Evelyn presents her thesis, her “sculpture” of a human being, to a large crowd of professors, students and townspeople, detailing how she manipulated her subject, Adam, into changing into an almost entirely different person. She also reveals that she had never held any true feelings for him, that the entire relationship was just a part of her thesis, the whole experience a lie. In the final scene Adam confronts Evelyn and is forced to finally stand up for himself. “Put college-aged students into a room in pursuit of ‘art’ and ‘truth’, then have them struggle with their personal morality, and you have The Shape of Things,” says Reyes in his Director’s Notes.
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Students don’t take advantage of rocking resources BY mark andrews A pair of grand openings representing the cultures of celebrity and coffee has occurred at the University’s Wilson Library in the past two weeks. Though they are physically separated by three of Wilson’s six floors, these two unveilings are more closely related than they appear at first glance. The fourth floor of Wilson Library was radiating with warmth and energy on yet another cold evening last Friday during the debut of the most recent Gorman Rare Art Books exhibit, The Birth of Celebrity Culture in the City of Lights (1880-1900). The exhibition, which runs until April 27, showcases a vast diversity of images from periodicals and books within the Gorman collection, illuminating the role of the popular press in the creation and maintenance of the “celebrity” figure in late nineteenth century Paris. The curator of the exhibition, Sarah Sik, a Ph.D. student in the Department of Art History, has woven a delicate and revealing narrative of the fin-de-siècle “celebrity,” employing a keen sensitivity to the historical trends and cultural affairs that dominated and affected the period. In her essay that accompanies the exhibition, Sik reveals how the popular press, in an age of “modern, image-based societies” reinforced “the human impulse to read outward appearances as an index of inward qualities.” Ultimately, this reinforcement resulted in the production of “flat, saleable images that admirers and critics” could “invest with their own desires and fantasies.” Such subjectivity, Sik observes, often led to an identity and a public image that the celebrity had little control over.
own Wilson Library. Consequently, along with providing a most enlightening exploration of turn-of-the-century French popular culture, the exhibit also demonstrates the scope, range and depth of the University of Minnesota Libraries’ collections. This demonstration is precisely where and how the previously mentioned relationship between the two openings begins to occur. It often seems that students would rather sit in a noisy, dimly lit café quickly browsing the internet than huddle with a stack of books beneath the illuminating and enlightening bulbs of our libraries. Further, the students may defend their Google-based research in the name of pragmatism and convenience. How much more suitable it is, indeed, for our minds, cast in the mold of this fast-paced Information Age, to rely on a simple query which receives a response within seconds!
Both engaging and accessible, The Birth of Celebrity Culture in the City of Lights (1880-1900) serves as an important critique of a period that, in many ways, remains significantly relevant to our own image-conscious society. Sik brings these elements to life, compelling the viewer to reflect on the mass production and distribution of visual representations in 21st century America. Moreover, all of the research and compilation of materials for the exhibition was done within the walls of our
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Similarly, many may argue that our own University has resorted to this very method of inquiry with its recent “greatest question” campaign, suggesting and supporting the idea that we have no time for the cultivation of indepth investigations that seek to unearth answers within the library’s stacks and archives. If only more students would venture as Sik has into the depths and caverns of the Annex or the Rare Book Room – those mysterious and labyrinthine bastions of resources – for the answers to their “greatest questions!”
The students, however, resist. Accordingly, in a whole-hearted effort to bring the students back into these much-neglected houses of knowledge, our dear libraries have installed their very own chain of coffee shops, including a new one – just opened – in the basement of Wilson. With this in mind, the opening of Sik’s The Birth of Celebrity Culture in the City of Lights (1880 -1900) is quite timely. The students, having found and made use of this new shop – thereby re-entering the corridors of the Wilson Library – may happen to encounter this collection of prints, witnessing firsthand what treasures are within the reach of an inquisitive mind. Fortunately for students, Sik’s exhibition displays the remarkable fruits of her research, which remains the very essence of what a library as great as our own has to offer. Let us all hope, then, that the opening of the Wilson Library’s most recent installation proves the effort to have been as thoroughly researched, as intelligibly documented and as successfully carried out as Sik’s exhibition. If not, let us at least hope that the library has accounted for the potential leaks, spills and discarded paper cups, which may be left in the student’s wake.
It’s Not Funny Anna Nicole’s death more tragic than assholes care to notice
\Voices
for most people, this is all hilarious. People all over the country, be it the douche bags I walk past on Washington Ave. or professional journalists speaking to me through a radio, are mocking the crap out of Anna Nicole Smith.
She was a normal person who got many more chances than you or I ever will to make an ass out of herself.
BY cole dennis Abraham Lincoln freed the slaves. Rosa Parks sat resolutely on the bus. Rock Hudson was a fine, gay actor. Cole Dennis changed history with his brilliant writing and chiseled pectorals. Anna Nicole Smith was a national joke. As you’ve all probably heard — and you’d better have because I would like to think of myself as having an informed readership — Anna Nicole Smith recently died. Everyone seems to think that this is hi-freaking-larious. I have not gone one day since then without overhearing someone joking and laughing about it. As I said, Anna Nicole Smith was a national joke. Maybe she deserved to be. She acted ridiculously both leading up to and during her nationally syndicated reality television show, which followed her around, watching how she spent her late husband’s hard-earned fortune. She was a successful model (best known for her Guess campaign — her ass was all over America), a stripper, Playboy centerfold, millionaire’s wife, TV star, movie star, mother, diet supplement spokesperson and yes, one fucking weird nationally popularized character. But she also escaped extreme poverty when she became a model for Guess and Playboy and had two children before her death. Her son, Daniel Smith, predeceased her by five months, dying only a few days after his little sister and Anna’s first daughter was born.
I don’t care that her life was hard. So is mine; remember that columns don’t just write themselves. I also didn’t give that much thought to her death when I heard about it. I am just about as emotionally invested in Anna Nicole Smith as I am Woody Woodpecker, and I don’t mind telling you that I’ve hated that nut-job bird since he started giving me nightmares when I was four. But you know what I think is so, so sad? That this woman, who couldn’t escape us all making fun of her long enough to take a shit, has to have all of our snide remarks thrown at her even after she’s been swallowed up by the earth. She’s dead now, and her baby is just a few months old. But we’re too busy chortling over her elderly ex-husband or how she got really fat after she was a model, but before the diet pills, to notice that even though she was ridiculous, even though she was laughable at times in her life, she actually was a person. I don’t care if she killed Santa Claus. When you die, you deserve some sort of peace of character after you’re gone. If you don’t, then I suspect that people will treat my death like Anna Nicole’s, as I might be a national joke someday as well. I don’t want this to come off as preachy, or for you all to think I’m attacking you, because this is the one time I’m not calling everyone morons (…you morons). I’m just saying that when you pick someone to make fun of, though that person may be an easy target, lay off. It’s really in bad taste to make jokes that fly in the face of someone’s death. Think about what her daughter is going to see when she’s old enough to start asking questions about her mom and sees that instead of everyone mourning her mother, we just pointed and laughed.
All right, I’m painting a picture of Anna that is quite slanted. If you focus on the tragedy or hardship in someone’s life, it makes it seem like they were heroic or even courageous. And as far as I know, Anna was none of these things. She married an 89-year-old millionaire when she was 26, only four months after divorcing her previous husband, who wasn’t a millionaire, which seems a bit sketchy. She was the spokesperson for a diet pill, something which is helping destroy the health and emotional well-being of people with eating disorders or low self-images around the country. She even showed her boobies to everyone in a magazine full of naked women, something I’m sure our grandparents would be scandalized by.
by Rahima Schwenkbeck
Name and describe your own monster truck! It would be called “The Chocolate Mousse” and it would be painted cocoa with a Fonzi hair set up on top and a zipper down the hood. WILLIAM MARTIN
Sexology...seriously! Junior
My monster truck would be called the “Maneater!” It would be orange with lime green and blue stars. I would definitely be driving it! DANIELLE SCHUETTE
Nursing Freshman
I would name it “The Deforester.” I would paint it as a mouth with teeth and a tongue because it would destroy all kinds of forests. NICOLAS D. STEPHENS
English Senior
It would be a rabid kitty monster truck.
So Anna Nicole Smith had a hard life, but was also someone of questionable character. What does this mean? Nothing, really. Just that she was a normal person who got many more chances than you or I ever will to make an ass out of herself. Disregarding it all, because now I hope we can agree that it matters very little, many of the players are dead (Marshall, the millionaire, has passed on as well) or an infant (Anna’s daughter is five months old). So why are we still talking about this? Because it’s interesting. Moreover,
Photo Poll
ALLIE FLEISCHMANN
American Studies Junior
dave hagen
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12/28 February-06 March 2007
\ Feature Entering into the second hour at the monster truck rally, someone asks if the cloud of exhaust fumes and floating dirt hovering above the rally might get a person high. Checking with Alice, the biology major, she says we would be more inclined to acquire nausea, but her words fade away when the deafening roar of Martial Law, the monster truck, echoes so hard throughout the dome that our chairs vibrate, and we’re sitting in the upper deck. But that isn’t all one experiences while attending his or her first monster truck rally, or “Monster Jam” as the children’s t-shirts refer to it. There’s dirty cigarette odor from dust interacting with gas and the swell of the engine sounds drowning out army recruitment speeches conveniently played during the Air Force monster truck’s second run through the course. No, you won’t see many Birkenstocks here. The old west sentiment overwhelms the four of us stationed in the upper deck; it’s me, Jacob our Lit editor, Alice from S&V, and Ethan our photographer and photo editor, bravely cruising through the Metrodome, snapping away shots of the trucks and the crowd, the spilled beer and glowing green headlights that adorn the vehicles. What is this, really? A sporting event, an activity? It avoids the objectification of women, unlike the noxious “ultimate fighting” events, yet the Monster Jam maintains the primal, macho instinct to adore such destruction on a grand scale. We’re editors, paid staff of a liberal, liberal college magazine in a Democrat’s town, so we didn’t exactly fit in among the Bush ’04 bumper stickers and Polaris leather jackets, but we tried our best. Jacob and I didn’t shave, and plaid is definitely present, but was it so necessary? Fortunately, the Monster Jam is one arena in the vast realm of public entertainment where politics don’t matter, and nobody is a being sexually objectified by parading around in their skivvies with a sign reminding people what round it is. No, I’m as comfortable here as I would be at a war protest, and it’s because of the honesty we find in each person we talk to. What is it, Alice and I ask, that makes an event like this so exciting? One middle-aged man’s eyes grow dreamy, angled at the ceiling when he says that he can’t explain it, “there’s just something about seeing a car torn apart.” And boy is he ever right. Like when the semitruck drags out the aging RV into the center of the dirt arena, the crowd roaring, uninhibited, and then Taz, the truck dedicated to everyone’s favorite Tasmanian devil, groans through the center of the old RV. The action sends splintering sections of fiberglass and furniture (and I think the steering wheel) into the air to pause under the heartbeat of flickering cameras, silent blue explosions, with the truck still cruising through the air beneath us until they fall in the dust together.
On break between the segments of racing and jumping trucks, they bring out a dozen or so goofy looking cars with trailers connected. “Trailer Race,” they call it, and the cars are off, waved forward from the starting line. One truck trailing a television the size of a small Honda is the first to spill, and when it does, the shattered skeleton of the TV breaks out in a cloud of dust. Following this display of beautiful destruction, an El Camino with a pickup bed filled with what appears to be confetti swerves to avoid the aborted television and instead annihilates three posts that indicate where the track once lay. Shreds of an amputated speed-boat lie crippled and scattered throughout the dirt. A few moments later, grey smoke funnels out from the hood of a yellow car with a black “64” spraypainted on the door. In the confusion of cars straying from the now indistinguishable track, a little guy climbs out of the window of his mangled car door. The crowd cheers as he waves his arms with pride. Trying to ignore the irony of the announcer’s unrestrained comments suggesting the drivers’ “tremendous displays of courage,” Alice and I talk to the guy sitting behind us and his tiny kids about why they come here and what they enjoy. The guy, who looks like he’s in his late twenties, has a thin mustache and wears a black Yankees hat. Excited, he tells us it’s “all about Grave Digger,” and his children concur happily. True, Grave Digger appears to be the crowd favorite. Like seeing the Harlem Globetrotters or maybe a matador in a Spanish corrida, the idea of an underdog proves slightly irrelevant here. Grave Digger is always the winner, the legend, the hero. The deep, husky voice from the commercials we all remember is not far removed, even this high up in the nosebleed sections. A man a few rows behind us, brandishing his beer with pride, imitates the burly, belt-of-bourbon tone when he cheers for his hero, turning “Grave Digger” into a twelvesyllable groan.
patiently waiting their turn. The young man with the Yankees cap explains what is happening next. “Freestyle jam,” he says, smiling. With this section of the event, each truck is given ninety seconds to kick as much ass as possible. The enormous jumps, which have remained untouched until now, are tainted when Taz soars off the edge of the ramp, scraping the roof of the jalopy ambulance he’s surmounting, his nose coming down hard and leaving a scar in the dirt. Then Air Force, your taxes remember, finishes off the mutilated RV as it side-swipes the obliterated skeleton. Finally, the apex arrives. Grave Digger warms up his crowd with a long wheelie, then a few rams against some cars, which closely resemble leftovers wrapped in wrinkled tin-foil. Then it reverses back, in front of the biggest ramp. The growing crescendo of the painful engine swells, eradicating any hopes of maintaining my eardrums as the truck speeds toward the ramp. Now it’s higher than any truck yet, suspended in culmination of what our eighteen dollars paid for, sparkling from the flashes of thousands of cameras catching the moment forever. Then it lands and flips purposefully near the side of another ramp. The cheering dies away, and a mass exodus forms in direction of the windy doors at the dome. After it takes us a half hour to get out of the parking ramp, we’re still inspired and giddy so I’m drinking whisky from the bottle in Uptown, reviewing the pictures with Ethan, when we nod to each other and he says, “This was awesome.” And I tell him, dude, I couldn’t agree more.
Then the surge of momentum starts to wane as the semifinals are completed, and the trucks are replaced by gocart racers from around the state. As the figures cruise around, they are dwarfed by the massive, horrendous gods
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Campus/
by janessa dohse Each year a graduate student in the University’s Art History Department gets the chance to work with Wilson Library’s art librarian to curate an exhibit from the Gorman Rare Art Book Collection. This year Sarah Sik created “The Birth of Celebrity Culture in the City of Lights (1880 – 1900)” — an exhibit that focuses on the Parisian preoccupation with celebrity culture at the turn of the twentieth century. The exhibit, which is presented by the University of Minnesota Libraries in conjunction with the department of art history, runs now through April 27, in the James Ford Bell Library on the fourth floor of Wilson Library. It is free and open to the public.
The outside of the exhibit is adorned with a makeshift blue and red striped awning. The sign on the glass door reads: “Bienvenue!” In the front of the tiny room sits an antique-looking wooden table. On the table are reference materials, such as pamphlets and brochures about the exhibit that visitors can take home with them. Also on the table stand three golden panels that give an introduction to the exhibit. In the 1890s, after French journalists were given much more leverage about what they could print, celebrity culture took off in print media. Actors and actresses became associated with images that popular artists created for them. During this time, print cul-
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ture became dependent on the modern celebrity. The entire left wall of the exhibit is covered by a red velvet theater curtain with gold tassels. Hanging from the curtain are five large and colorful posters with illustrations of French actresses. To the right of the wall sit two wooden chairs upholstered in black leather, behind them looms an old, almost ratty-looking lamp. The exhibit is filled with class display cases lined with yards of navy velvet. Inside are books, drawings, political campaign and theater posters and reviews. Almost all of them are illustrations; hardly any are photos. Among many other French celebrities, the exhibit features Sarah Bernhardt, an independent French stage actress and Marie Louise Fuller, an American dancer and native of Illinois who changed her name to Loie Fuller and achieved spectacular success in Paris after performing in “Fire Dance” in 1982 at the Folies Bergere. Many other French stage actors, cabaret dancers, and even politicians are featured in the exhibit. The materials are drawn from journals including Le Rire, L’Assiette au beurre, Revue illustrée, L’Art décoratif, and L’Illustration. In addition to materials from the Gorman Collection, the exhibit includes materials from the University of Minnesota Libraries general collection. The Gorman Rare Art Book Collection was born out of a gift to support the University Libraries’ art book collection by alumnus Francis Gorman when he died in 1981. The annual Gorman exhibits are supported by the Francis V. Gorman Art Library Endowment, the University of Minnesota Libraries and, in part, by participating departments.
ethan stark
\ Campus
Café Scientifique – Understanding Evolution bY carl carpenter “Evolution’s not dead! It’s dancing in the middle of the floor with a lampshade on it’s head!” stated University of Minnesota, Morris Professor Paul Meyers. On February 13, just one day after Charles Darwin’s birthday, the Bell History Museum held a discussion on the topic of evolution as a part of its Café Scientifique series at the Varsity Theater in Dinkytown. This evening was, of course, not without incident. Many a voice was cautiously raised in acts of interjection, bold by our mild mannered Minnesotan standards. Things failed to genuinely heat up until moments before the evening reached its conclusion, but when it did, shit was hot. The room was a torrid mix of long-winded proclamations and unrelenting rebuttals, well worth the price of admission, which was a five dollar suggested donation. Professors Mark Barrello and Paul “PZ” Meyers, Bell Museum director, Scott Lanyon presented their thoughts and led the discussion. Barrello kicked things off with a 10 minute lecture on topics ranging from the importance of debate to the complex relationship between broader culture and science. Lanyon shed some light on science’s continuing inability to rectify the common misconception of evolution. Often, people assume “theory” implies a lack of scientific backing, so they can question it being taught in classrooms. They take “theory” for its popularly used meaning as merely a hunch or a guess. In a scientific context, however, a “theory” is a welltested, logically derived, and well-supported explanation. Frequently, those who fall victim are those who simultaneously demand that creationism and intelligent design be taught alongside evolution in the classroom. They make this demand on the grounds of the “theory” theory. Prof. Paul “PZ” Meyers was the chief catalyst of debate provocation. A great deal of fuss was ultimately made of a statement we would revisit throughout his ten minutes of lecture. “It’s not people’s ignorance
I have a problem with. We’d be out of a job if people weren’t ignorant. Arrogance is the root of the problem; people think they’re always right,” was the claim that would ultimately create the friction necessary to rub someone into an angry rant (but more on that later). The crowd was, for the most part, as seasoned as the timeless subject at hand. One audience member of particular note adorned a cult-leader beard and sat Indian style in the center of the floor, which was especially interesting in lieu of all the open chairs throughout the room. There were a smattering of young couples, and even a handful of collegians. To the surprise of no one, the lady and gent who led the discussion were rocking a mullet and a fly-fishing vest, respectively. Some of the evening’s most insightful discussion was provided via a high school science teacher of seventeen years. He aired his frustrations of no longer being able to even use the word “evolution,” as kids are already programmed by the time they reach his class to simply tune it out. They’ve already learned in Sunday School how things started and haven’t the “science literacy” to partake in discussions.
gance than any of these creationist you’ve been munching all night.” He cited the fact that the head of the Genome Project was an Evangelical Christian and finished by saying that religious beliefs cannot be questioned. This did not sit well with the seldom addressed “PZ” Meyers. “No, I actually do think it’s time (that we start to question religion). The job is on you to prove your religion with facts as evolution as has done time and time again.” Mr.
Lanyon, despite admitting that he takes his own kids to church, added that he believes Sunday School teaches “sloppy thinking.” which was met with applause and even an enthusiastic “Boo Ya” from the back. Things would escalate from there, but would quickly be ended by our mullet touting, female curator, as 8 O’clock had arrived. On the whole, it was another informative and engaging evening from Café Scientifique.
To the surprise of no one, the lady and gent who led the discussion were rocking a mullet and a fly-fishing vest, respectively. A man who must have been in his 70s or 80s sat in the very front. As was to be expected, he dropped several of the night’s most outrageous claims and comments. “… William Buckley… is he dead yet? He should be.” And “attorney generals, they should be our best critical thinkers but some of these guys got their damn superstitions.…” When a gentleman in the back, towards the evening’s end, said something to the extent of, “If you think you can disprove God, than you’re of a higher arro-
mike mason
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ethan stark
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Christopher Roberts
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Athletics/
Up Close and Personal with an All-Time Great by Carl Carpenter From the first kick to the final whistle” are words of wisdom every soccer coach has bestowed upon his players. It’s also the first line of text in the movie Zidane: A 21st Century Portrait, and an indication of things to come. Directed by Douglas Gordon and Philippe Parreno, this movie cites only one actor in its cast: Zinedine Zidane. He’s a man among boys on the pitch and a god among mortals in France. Though he’s Algerian by descent, the French love him enough that they would likely elect him president if he so desired. He led his nation to a World Cup Championship in 1998, with two goals in the final against Brazil. He’s been crowned the FIFA World Player of the Year three times, first in 1998, again in 2000 and finally in 2003. He received the Golden Ball, awarded to the outstanding player of the World Cup, in 2006 for his heroic play, leading his underdog French team to the finals. It is a sad and embarrassing fact that many will know him only as “that guy who head-butted the Italian.”
Zidane’s every thought, glance and emotion is captured over the 90 minutes. The French reaction to the incident was the polar opposite, in no way a defamation of Zidane. “The violence would not have surprised anyone who knows Zizou (his nickname in France); he acted like a human being, not a star,” stated a French journalist who holds a close relationship with Zidane. “For France, Zizou is a child of the Republic, a product of colonialism and a legacy of Napoleon. We French see his reaction as a magnificent message.” The “portrait” of Zidane is a real-time account of a Spanish Premiere League game played on April 23, 2005. Seventeen different cameras were on him throughout the match. It took years for the directors to gain his approval and many trips to Madrid to negotiate and connect. When he finally relented, it was to the delight of soccer and cinema fans worldwide. The action in the film switches from an at-home television view, Spanish announcers included, to some of the most intimate sports shots ever to grace a screen. Zidane’s every thought, glance and emotion is captured over the 90 minutes, with the music of Mogwai aiding in the progressive cinematic beauty. Their expansive bass, drums and guitar melodies play throughout the film, often fitting the mood of the moment perfectly.
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Aside from the cameras, 80,000 rabid fans filled Real Madrid’s awe-inspiring Bernabeu stadium to watch this ordinary match against Vinnareal. Real Madrid are like the Yankees of Spanish soccer. Much like Chelsea of the English Premier League, they’ve got the deepest pockets around and won’t hesitate to prove it. They can afford the best players our world has to offer, though as of recent it seems they’ve been opting for the most famous. Zidane received 66 million Euros as his transfer fee in 2002, a world record intact to this day. After watching this film, you’ll realize he’s worth every cent. He was never the fastest player, nor the most physically imposing. He stands 6’1”, and claims a body lacking in muscular definition. Yet somehow he’s dominated game after game for over a decade. He’s leader of all leaders, yet scarcely offers more than a word, usually indicating his position to a teammate. He lets his play do the talking: every touch on the ball perfection, every through ball or cross surgical. The film correlates his genius on the field to that of a painter on his canvas. Towards the middle of the second half, down 1 – 0 at the time, Zidane broke through. Gaining procession, he takes his man down the left side to the corner of the 18. He shows middle, steps over with his left foot, than explodes to the end line. His defender watches helplessly from his seat on the grass as Zidane crosses the ball just inches off the goal line, just out of the reach of the keeper, and finds an airborne Ronaldo at the back post. In typical Zidane fashion, he offers not even a smile. Merely a fist pump and hugs for his teammates. After his team goes up 2-1, he shares an uncharacteristic on-field laugh with Brazilian legend, Roberto Carlos. It was the only part of the film Zidane did not appreciate. This is despite the fact that he is seen throwing an off-ball elbow, and later on, in the final minutes of the game, is sent off with a red card for involving himself in a post-foul scuffle. His teammates David Beckham and Figo are shown attempting to calm him down, but he casts their arms aside. Zidane has been, and forever will remain, a true original and one of the greatest futbolers of all time. Zidane: A 21st Century Portrait is part of the Expanding the Frame series at the Walker Art Center. Several more films in this series remain. For more information go to walkerarts.org or call 612.375.7600.
Trust the Professionals
Literary/
The Quiver in My Seat
A Ballet of Metal, Fire and Power
By That Bird Outside the Window Shook evenly, the burst of petrol nostrils of children racing eyes on the back of the back of the back of the pick-me-up dirt clouds one shiver one shoulder I see the grave digging grace of the ambulance chase
By Jengly
Engines blaring loud A spectacle of power Where are my nachos?
On these wounded hills—spider-like skeletons mashed together from the butt of rubber heels and dirty paws of that bobcat wandering. Sing praise to beaten one limping around the dirt an orgasmic coma shot as machine lies still on back wheels lulling a spin spin, spin.
The Liminal, a literary journal sponsored by The Wake Student Magazine is now accepting submissions. We welcome everyone to please send poetry, prose, short fiction, creative non-fiction, art & photography to Liminal@wakemag.org. Submissions should be 2,000 words or less. Art & photography must be sent at a resolution of 300 DPI. In addition, we have free copies of past issues of the Liminal available in the Wake office. If you would like a copy, please send us an e-mail so we can make arrangments for receiving.
Deadline for Submissions:
March 9th, 2007 Liminal@wakemag.org 20/28 February-06 March 2007
Show me your Flash Fiction skills. 750 Words. Make these skeleton pieces glow. 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.
\Literary
Literary Events Who: Nikki Giovanni What: Truth-Telling and the Need for Poetry When: Wednesday, February 28th, 7:30 pm. Where: Ted Mann Concert Hall (U of M), FREE What: Who’s Got the Story: Memoir as History/History as Memoir When: Wednesday, February 28th, 7:30 pm. Where: Weisman Art Museum (U of M), FREE Who: Peggy Orenstein What: The author discusses ‘Waiting for Daisy: A Tale of Two Continents, Three Religions, Five Infertility Doctors, an Oscar, an Atomic Bomb, a Romantic Night, and One Woman’s Quest to Become a Mother.’ When: Thursday, March 1st, 7:30 pm. Where: Barnes & Noble (3225 W 69th St, Edina), FREE Who: Louise Erdrich; Nuruddin Farah What: The local writer and Somali novelist discuss their writings. When: Sunday, March 4th, 3:30 pm. Where: Cowles Auditorium (U of M), FREE Who: Joe Conason What: The author and political reporter discusses ‘It Can Happen to You.’ When: Monday, March 5th, 7 pm. Where: Coffman Bookstore (U of M), FREE Who: Jon Woodward; Alex Lemon What: Poetry When: Monday, March 5th, 7:30 pm. Where: Magers & Quinn Booksellers (3038 Hennepin Ave S, Mpls.), FREE Who: Matt Bernstein Sycamore What: The queer activist discusses ‘Nobody Passes: Rejecting the Rules of Gender and Conformity.’ When: Monday, March 5th, 7 pm. Where: Amazon Bookstore (4755 Chicago Ave S, Mpls.), FREE
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Men Seeking Men SM Have love will travel, restricted by restraining orders. dan@gmail.com
People Seeking Fauna Single raptor enthusiast seeks pair of owls for flights of fancy. hootinabout@hotmail.com
Women Seeking Women Are you my Ellen? Looking for a lady with a sense of humor. condoleezar@wh.gov
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22/21-27 February 2007
Best way to see the world: Backpacking. Honorable mention: Falling from an airplane. Worst way to accidentally get pregnant: A broken condom. Honorable mention: Falling on a baby. Best way to make people give a shit about you again: Die mysteriously. Honorable mention: Shave your head. Best mutated team of siblings: The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Honorable mention: The Jackson 5 Ugliest upholstery: Orange velvet Honorable mention: Back hair Most pounded: Nails Honorable mention: Smurfette
You have joined room: Rogue_Mages Concrete_Angel: is this about the paul thing? thug_style has joined. SkyCrunk has joined. Concrete_Angel: -sigh-‌..I broke up with my bf too thewake: HEY BOIZZZZZZ thewake: anybody read the wake? Happiness: what? Happiness: who are u? Concrete_Angel: I can come in as Cherry if u want me too thewake: anyone? loly: thewake go suck a black dick Happiness: lol yaya6573: girls please pm me yaya6573: girls please pm me yaya6573: girls please pm me yaya6573: girls please pm me yaya6573: girls please pm me yaya6573: girls please pm me yaya6573: girls please pm me yaya6573: girls please pm me yaya6573: girls please pm me thewake: that’s not nice.
Call it supporting irony—or even overthrowing tyranny, if you’d like. Vote for The Wake as “best student group” on the fifth page of the Minnesota Daily’s annual survey. It’ll only take a minute— you can even leave everything else blank. Go to: www.mndaily.com/grapevines/ grapevines2007.php
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