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AD|OCT24,2008

THE CARL SIXTH WEEK OCT 24, 2008EXECUTIVE EDITORSGreg HunterAlex SciutoDan Sugarman

EXECUTIVE COPYEDITORBeatrice White

DOORMAT EDITORSMatt PiehStephen Gee

FEATURE EDITORDaniella De Franco

ARTS & LIT EDITORSasha Korobova

CINEMA EDITORSAndreas StoehrAndrew Tatge

CARTOONS EDITORShilpa Rao

COUNTDOWN EDITORSMax BearakFrank Firke

STAFF WRITERS ANDILLLUSTRATORSKristen AspNarula BilikJacob CanfieldJenna MacKrell

Erinrose MagerCaitlin MagnussonLeah KarelsAnne O’GaraEmily RuffNoah SapseLindsey Shaughnessy

COPY STAFFMax BearakFrank Firke

COVER ILLUSTRATIONExecutive Editors

EXECUTIVE EDITOR INABSENTIATom Fry

SPECIAL THANKSCannon Valley PrintingDominos PizzaJack Kirby

SOCIETY, MUSIC ANDFUN & GAMES SEC-TIONS SUPERVISED BYEXECUTIVE EDITORS

EDITORS’ NOTE

The Carl was established in 1999 as TheCarletonian’s biweekly arts and culture supplement.It is published the Friday of second, fourth, sixth andeighth week.

Please send all inquiries, letters-to-the-editor, carepackages, etc. to:

The Carl / Carletonian OfficeSayles 210300 North College StreetNorthfield, MN 55057all.things.carl@gmail.com

CARLMAGAZINE.COM

So, the presidential election is happeningvery soon. We don’t want to belabor the point,but we hope you vote, and we hope you vote forBarack Obama. With that said, there has beensomething on our collective mind lately, some-thing more important than the result of thelast debate, something more important thaneven the outcome of the race for president. Weare talking, of course, about ghosts.

Ghosts are like a failing economy. Both ofthem can prevent you from keeping your home,but in the case of the economy, it just happensbecause your mortgage is much too high. Inthe case of a ghost, that ghost is haunting yourhouse and unplugging appliances you justplugged in like five minutes ago. And youcould probably dig up its former body and buryit in the proper grave because that’s supposed

to put an end to all this but lord knows howmuch that’s going to cost. Also, sometimes theghost makes hot babes sleepwalk.

In a perfect world, we wouldn’t have toworry about ghosts haunting Carleton’s cam-pus. We didn’t, actually, until Carleton pur-chased Northfield’s former middle school,which is rumored to be haunted. Kristen Asphas the whole story covered in this issue’s fea-ture, and we’re pretty excited about it. We’vealso got the latest news on Matt Pieh’s grass-roots campaign to save the cement penis, adebate on the acceptability of bad grammar atCarleton, and much, much more.

- Greg Hunter, on behalf of the ExecutiveEditors

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THE TOP FIVE

Actual Names forSarah Palin’s Children

1. Trig

2. Bristol

3. Track

4. Willow

5. Piper

Pure, pure hope

Saturday sundae bar returning!

Equine Outfitters out of busi-ness; first sign of economiccollapse?

Chris Rasinen’s departure

dTHE SCHILLOMETER

THE PHOTO POLL

Who are you voting for?

“Obama.”— Sabrina Peterson ‘09

“Obama.”— Sam Carus ‘10

“Brobama.”— Helen Grossman ‘12

“Obama.”— Julia Weisman

“Obama.”— Phil Yates ‘11

“Obama.”— Long Bui ‘09

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Penisgate ‘08

Rest In PenisWe tried, we failed.

We must never forget.

Workers cover their faces in shame.

Post-circumcision. Or possibly uncircumcised.A continuing debate.

Graphic rendering by Greg Hunter

by Matt Pieh

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An Open Letter to My Writing Portfolio Reviewerfrom Matt Pieh

Dear Writing Portfolio Grader #30,

Thank you for your commentary! From your palpable disdain, it sounds likeeither the publisher rejected your book again, or you just realized you live inNorthfield. I’m sorry my portfolio was turned in three weeks late, and I’msorry you never noticed it was two pages short of the minimum requirement.You’ve left me with some questions, so if you care to respond, please emailpiehm@carleton.edu.

Review Highlights“I think your confidence in your writingability, though admirable, may be mis-placed.”

Ouch. Major burn. I feel like you’re breaking it to thefat kid that he’ll never make the sports team. What,exactly, is productive about telling him that his effortsare futile? According to the writing portfolio’s website,the portfolio is used because “the Carleton faculty wantall students to be confident.” Nice job with that one.Your confidence in your ability to foster confidence,though admirable, may be misplaced.

“At times your prose can be overwrit-ten, stilted-and at other times, quitepedestrian.”

“Quite pedestrian.” Okay, at this point I have to believeyou’re a snooty Brit. I am pentitent for trifling you withmy petty declarations. I mean, what are your sugges-tions? Equestrian prose? Using a Segway to getbetween sentences? I think that, at times, your prosecan be quite aerial.

“Nothing about the religion paper orthe lab report made me want to keepreading.”

I’m sorry that my lab report didn’t make you want tokeep reading. I really thought that the cellulose acetateelectrophoresis of phosphoglucomutase protein inEurosta solidaginis populations of the Carleton arbore-tum would be a page-turner.

In time—likely when I read this in print—I will regretwriting this. With my luck, you’re probably one of myprofessors, or I’ll have you in the future. For what it’sworth, I’m sorry you had to read my portfolio. In myopinion, the writing portfolio is just a hoop for Carls tojump through, and I don’t think it’s worth the cost.More importantly, I don’t think it’s worth your time.

This grid wasdefinitely help-ful.

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AT|OCT24,2008 Topical Halloween Costumes

by Greg Hunter

Joker Make-up Sarah PalinWhen you get to the Chapel, you’re going to

be flanked by dudes made-up like HeathLedger’s Joker and dudettes dressed up likevice-presidential candidate Sarah Palin. Youcan try to compete with one group, you can tryto compete with the other, or you can go asSarah Palin in Joker make-up and blow ‘em allaway. [Editors’ note: in all sincerity, if you’re inthe middle of assembling either a Joker orPalin costume, please stop. It’s very rare forsomething to be played-out before it ever hap-pens, but this is precisely what we’re seeing.]

When you’re a kid, Halloween is a blast. You get free candy, you can help your parents carve the pumpkin, and maybe you’ll evenhave a good scare or two. These days, though, it’s all about winning, and that’s not a bad thing. If you’re a senior, you know you’recoming up your last chance to get the best costume award at the Chapel. If you’re a freshman, you know this might be your big chanceto make a name for yourself around campus. But regardless of age, if you’re in it to win it, creativity alone isn’t going to cut it. A win-ning costume is a relevant costume, a costume that speaks to the concerns of today’s Carleton student. With this in mind, The Carlpresents...

Necessary Materials:

White clown make-upRed lipstickGlasses

$2,500 Valentino jacketKnife

October 31 convocation speaker CharleneTeters

You’re not going to get any more topicalthan this. By dressing up as Native Americanmultimedia artist Charlene Teters, you’ll makeyour roommate’s Paris Hilton outfit look like aCharlie Chaplin costume. Some people mightnot recognize you because they didn’t attendconvo, but if you take the time to explain yourcostume to them, they too will be impressed byits timeliness. Get a start on this costume now,and surprise and/or weird-out Teters by appear-ing at her speech looking just like she does!

Necessary Materials:

Dress or blouseLong brown wig

Necklace (optional)Glasses (optional)

Total Incomprehension of the CurrentEconomic Crisis

Tap into the zeitgeist by visually expressinghow you know you can’t afford to give up tryingto understand America’s financial collapse buthave anyway. This can probably be achieved byhaving a squiggly line moving downward acrossyour stomach, which other Chapel-goers willunderstand has something to do with sub-primemortgages. Performance is key with this cos-tume: once you’ve put it together, praticetitling your head, crossing your eyes or stickingyour tongue out in obvious confusion.

Necessary Materials:

MarkerFace

BefuddlementFear

For the Competitive Halloween Concert-goer

Should Look Like:

Should Look Like:

Should Look Like:

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No Campus for OlesA St. Olaf student visits Carleton for the joint Homecoming dance

It started out like any other Saturday nightover a break: Four people in four differentplaces around campus, doing nothing. I hadjust reached that stage where you become con-tent with boredom and actually start cognitive-ly defending your uneventful night. (“At leastI’ll be rested in the morning,” “Nothing isgoing on anyways,” and of course “I couldtotally watch a good movie right now.”) Likewith any Carleton Adventure, it began with afriend who had heard from a friend that therewas potentially a party at Carleton. ConsideringOles spend a great deal of our time flashing oursupposed athletic superiority (note: afterHomecoming ‘08 a drastic decrease in thistrend was noticed campus wide) we still have astrange affection and curiosity for the otherside of the river. Carleton parties are normallya letdown because they turn out to be just afalse rumor, but I still had faith; spontaneitydescribes any night where Oles venture acrossto party with Carls.

After enjoying a few beers and losing around of pong, the four of us set out to find thesupposed party. Turns out, not only did we finda pre-party, but also realized that the Carlswere hosting a dance. It was a two-for-one, anunlikely steal on a night that seemed destinedfor boredom. The pre-party was hosted next toDomino’s, in what turned out to be a very inti-mate (if you will) space with a few too manyguests. We entered the room and immediatelyfelt the eyes of Carls on us like silver bullets!Was it all in our heads? How could they knowwho we were? Was it all self-inflicted paranoia,or stereotypes confirmed? I still can’t tell, butone girl did immediately point out that us Olesall look so healthy. In fact, there was a glowaround our bodies! Thanks, girl! After short-lived interactions with a few other Carls, wecombined our singles for a cup, and after shar-ing a beer, moved on to the dance.

I have been on the Carleton campus twice,but only because I ran on the trails that comeout next to campus. The most memorable imageof Carleton is for me the penis-shaped walkpath, so expectations of the dance weren’thigh. We tend to view Carls as enigmas; you aresupposed to be “geeky” and bad at sports, yetyou have a wet campus and throw continuousparties. It puzzles us, and I think explains my

skepticism regarding the said dance. Anyways,my expectations of an innocent atmospherewere quickly shattered as we passed a girl inthe entrance strolling around in her bra.Furthermore, the dance floor was packed withsweaty, lightly dressed grinders rocking out likeit was a Halloween Grand! Sure, it was hostedin a cafeteria, and yes, the low volume from theDJ booth made it sort of hard to keep up withthe beat as the alcohol set in, but all that isbeside the point. What matters is that any Olewho ventured over to Carleton this pastSaturday can never see Carls as the geeky over-achievers we so eagerly make you out to be. Myfirst real Carleton expectation was exclusivelypositive, which is why I will rally more Oles tovisit “the other side” in the weekends to come.After Saturday I long for the day when islandparties are no longer exclusive, and Carls andOles join together in lectures on inter-campusunderstanding. (Opposites attract.) OnSaturday you Carls proved to at least a fewignorant souls that you know how to have agood time!

by Thor Steinhovden

ON THE STREET... NORTHFIELD, MNby Erinrose Mager

and Lindsey Shaughnessy

Greg Hunter

The only thing better than MichaelJ. Fox's hair circa Family Ties isMichael J. Fox's hair circa 2008,in the language lab and on the

cutest boy alive.

Don't let this steely gaze fool you.He's actually in love with me.

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POINT COUNTERPOINT SPECIAL

Before you throw this article into the recycling bin and say“what an atavistic jackass,” keep this in mind: I know I'm aneffete asshole and you're free to tell me that any time.

Democracy is not a verb. Webster's Dictionary definesdemocracy as a noun, not a verb. Nonetheless t-shirts havebeen popping up around the country, and campus, statingexactly that. Most people have read the shirts and picked upon it's quixotic political message rather than its more directlyimplied grammatical. I hope I never hear someone say theyjust “Democracied the shit out of someone at Halo,” or answer“Democracy” to what they were doing (since the only people“doing” democracy are the Republican party). Still, this shirtrepresents a small part of a larger and honestly terrifyingtrend. Grammar and syntax in spoken English are going the wayof parachute pants and criminal charges against MichealJackson; they are disappearing into thin air. English is admit-tedly, like all languages, an evolving pidgin. However, thatreally doesn't justify speaking like a tool.

English sytnax is difficult and arcane, this is undeniable.English is arguably one of the worst languages in the world inthat context. It was Tom Stoppard (someone who arguablyknew his way around our fine language) who in his playRosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead admitted that Englishwas a language which “makes up in obscurity what it lacks instyle.” My qualms, however, are not with errors within the pro-found depths of spoken word; they're in fact very superficial.For example, please, students of Carleton, realize there “are ashit-ton of beers” in the cooler. “There's a shit-ton” might bemore common, but trust me, there's no politically correct termto describe how daft you sound. Subject verb agreement isn'thard, realize the difference between the singular and plural.Before you speak think.... “is there more than one of that ?”Count it on your fingers if you have to, you can do it.

By all means, don't think I'm knocking the CarletonCommunity. I've never been somewhere where I was so amaz-ingly impressed by the general intellect and talent of the com-munity, and to a certain extent that is why I'm so shocked bypatterns of speech. So, realize that some of us, myself includ-ed, are just peeved by the incredibly picayune. As one lastpoint, people in the outside world are not as nice as they arehere. People will judge you and the first impression you makeis how you speak. Understanding the use of transitives versusintransitives, subject verb agreements, and the subjunctive,may actually help you get a job outside of Carleton. However,mostly I just cringe when I hear poor grammar and am selfishenough to expect you to change.

While you might not know it yet, dangling prepositions, AOLinstant messenger slang, and the free use of nouns as adjec-tives and vice versa by lazy college students who can’t seem torealize that their experiences are collegiate and not “sooooocollege” are revitalizing the English language, giving the moreserious and thoughtful craftspeople of the language newground to try out new ideas. Welcome to the democratizationof grammar. And yeah, I had to spell-check democritization.

Before we go any further, let’s not joke ourselves: languagehas never been static. Whether you want to look at the evolu-tion of Chinese characters from cave drawings to the compli-cated pictographs they are today or look at Chaucer’s Englishand compare it to the likes of the twentieth century masters,the language of the moment is a unique product.

But never before in history have so many people had a sayin languages’ evolution as today’s languages. Reading andwriting were not too long ago the domain of the wealthy. Sincethe uneducated couldn’t write, no one remembers how to sayain’t in Middle English. Today, with so many people reading,writing, and putting their thoughts on the internet, it’s impos-sible to ignore the turbulent mass of prose and poetry andscratched down half-thoughts that the 99% of us who don’twrite novels or philosophical tracts think.

And us 99% are using language that is most convenient andefficient. Whether it’s reducing “you” to its phonetic equiva-lent or shortening words to their first syllable, we’re makinglanguage fit our needs. This language requires a great amountof context to understand. A shit-ton is a pretty vague adjective.So, if you want language that challenges the user to very pre-cisely specify and communicate meaning, this might not beyour language choice. But for many of us, daily life doesn’trequire that specificity.

But I didn’t promise you an apology for those of us too lazyto write properly, I promised to show you how all this badgrammar—poor grammar—is revitalizing the English language.Great writers and serious thinkers have to talk to people likeme, too! They are running up against the 99% all the time.And while they may discard most of our language because itdoesn’t convey meaning as well as they’d like it to, there willalways be that random bit that will stick with them. It might bethe staccato of a new phrase that appeals to them or perhapsthe grammatical disjunction gives new insight to a thought,but it’ll be there.

It’s like evolution. Most of what we say is crap. Always hasbeen, always will be. But with more people saying and writingcrap, the greater the chance that one or two of us will pick outthe gems and bound it up in a book.

What level of grammar befits students at an eighth-ranked liberal arts college?

by Noah Sapse by Alex Sciuto

POINT COUNTERPOINT

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BACK IN THE DAY: A JUNIOR LOCATES HER PARTY-GOING SELF

Back in the day... if you were caught deadhanging out with just your friends on Friday orSaturday night, you were über lame. We allknew better. The weekend (about the only timewhen Carls may even have an inclination to besocial) is the time to be running around campusfrom Davis, to Meyers, to Goodhue, and back insearch of something totally “awesome” to do.The longer you stayed in, the more likely youwere going to miss something amazing. Also,the longer you stayed in, the more likely yourpotential going out party was going to turn intoa Disney-movie watching or Cosmo-readingparty. Thus, the sooner you got dressed anddrunk the faster you’d be having the “real” fun.

This year, we have learned better. Of course,going out to major parties, and hanging outwith your freshman-year lab partner, whom youwould never even say hello to unless fate putyou back in lab together, may sound like ablast, but hanging out with people you actuallyknow and have things in common may be evenmore fun. Most of us struggle to catch up onreading by our second day of class, so catchingup with each other is rarely prioritized. By now,we know that getting together an hour or twobefore going out with your closest friends islikely to be the best part of your evening—evenif all you do is sing along to “I Just Can’t Waitto be King.”

Back in the day... going to parties, even ifyou didn’t know the host was like totally“legit.” This was how you met people. As longas one person in your group of friends had spo-ken to the host once, even if it was two-yearsago, you were still game. It didn’t matter if theparty was thrown by the sci-fi house or the bas-ketball team, the attitude was “the more, themerrier” and also the drunker, and the crazier.These sort of large-ish, yet not Evans DiningHall-sized parties were a nice break from themayhem of Sayles or the chillness of VIP onlyparties. In fact, moderately-sized townhouseand apartment parties were some of the best I’dgone to at Carleton.

Something has changed this year, though. Idon’t know whether the economic crisis is alsohitting the regular partiers, but I do know thatnot only has the number of these partiesdropped drastically since last year, but peoplewho host them are much more covert/selectiveabout their invite lists. It has actually become“awkward” to show up if you don’t 70 percentof the invitees. Thus, meeting people at thesetypes of gatherings has become almost impossi-ble. So what are Carls doing to make up for thissharp decline in exciting social life? Thisbrings me to my next point.

Back in the day... when it came to campus-wide dances, Heaven and Hell was pretty muchthe cream of crop. It encouraged us to dressup, look provocative and really rub-up on each-other in a way that the space of Sayles couldnot. The music was usually at least decent–something that cannot be said for every Saylesdance. We got into it with costumes and danc-ing, and by the end of the night returned tired,danced-out and reasonably satisfied.

What happened this year? Maybe it is thelack of these medium-sized, parties that has letus off our leashes, but Heaven and Hell waspossibly the most disgusting experience I havehad while going out—European and sleazy 17-year-old-and-over clubs included. Yes, we’vehooked up at Sayles dances, but if you werehooking up for longer than ten minutes, orgoing past just making out, most of us were rea-sonable enough to take somewhere else. Doingit in your roommate’s bed is classier than doingit in front of the entire campus. This year,though, everywhere you looked there were pul-sating couples making out. In fact, perhaps itwas best that they didn’t leave, because if theydid there would probably only have been aboutten people left at the dance. Walking was bare-ly an option, let alone dancing. What used tobe a fun dance was transformed into a cheapbordello. Which is lame, by the way—not cool.

WAS LAME, NOW COOL WAS CHILL, NOW AWKWARD WAS DECENT, NOW GROSS

by Sasha Korobova

PARTY BRIEFSby Anne O’Gara

The Shoppe, October 11Seniors Amanda Gallinat and

Hannah Waters opened their doors tofifty of their closest friends, with thehelp of DJs Dan Sugarman and GabeSilberblatt. Big points for bringing outactual turntables. Believe me, I have noproblem with a pseudo ironic playlist—it’s mostly my life—but a little effortwent a long way in this case. The majorpitfall of the Shoppe is that its locationis relatively unknown. To make surethey went to the right place, peoplearrived and left in huge groups, whichmade the atmosphere inconsistent. Onthe other hand, if you don’t see anyonegood at a Shoppe party, just give it fif-teen minutes.

S

Crack House, October 16Hastily thrown together after theHeiruspecs show, Crack turned out to beall right. Anyone who was there will tellyou two things: old people and strobelights.

CRHeaven & Hell, October 18

SPB did it again. The staircaseoutside of Evans never sees more usethan this feisty fete. You know the drill:slutty, sweaty and if you’re lucky, both.I have literally never seen more peoplemaking out in one space before in mylife, so congrats to those who partook inthat element. Jerome Potter did a finejob picking tunes, and managed to havefun as well. The next morning overbrunch my friends and I decided that,while H&H was fun, it felt a little fake.So does that sentence. Revised: I didnot have fun at Heaven and Hell.

NC

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Security guards, maintenance workers, for-mer teachers, and custodians all agree that themiddle school is haunted. Last year, securitywas patrolling the building looking for brokenpipes when the Evans fire alarms went off. Oneguard, Tammy, stayed at the school while theothers responded to the alarm. Shortly after,Tammy rejoined the other security guards out-side Evans.

“I saw a child,” she said breathlessly. “Itpassed right in front of me. I’m not going backthere tonight.” The other security guards

checked the area thoroughly and reas-sured her that it was impossible foranyone to have been in the building.

“Tammy wouldn’t say anythingmore about it,” says a Carleton securi-ty guard. “But she was really shakenup. And after that, she always insistedon doing the middle school patrol her-self. She said that if there was a childin there, she wanted to help them ‘passon.’”

Since Tammy’s encounter, securityhas called the ghost “Sarah.”Carleton security guard JimBushey recalls the first time heheard about Sarah. Patrollingone night, he saw a strange lightmoving around the basement.

“It could have been a sortof headlight, but there were nocars outside and it looked dis-tinct in a way that a headlightwouldn’t,” says Jim. “It mademe a little nervous and so I leftthe building for a moment.Outside, there was a womanwalking her dog in the middle ofthe night. And she said, ‘Youseen her!’”

The woman then told Jimabout how every night her sistersees a girl walk past all the win-dows of the middle school. Jimexplained that this would beimpossible due to the fact there arewalls and locked doors separating theclassrooms from one another. But thatwould not be a problem for someone whocan walk through walls.

I decided that I had to investigate.After all, we don’t want to be caught off-guard when the walls of the newly com-pleted Arts Union start weeping blood. I

asked Jim Bushey if I could accompany him onhis patrol of the school late Wednesday nightand he kindly obliged.

“Most nights are quiet,” he reminded me.I then proceeded to rope my friend and for-

mer roommate Liz Evison into accompanyingme. I don’t have a strong belief in ghosts, andif horror movies have taught me anything it’sthat the skeptics are the first to die. Little did

Strange things are afoot at the old Northfield Middle School. Seats in theauditorium flip up and down mysteriously, doors slam on hydraulic hinges,strange lights appear and disappear, and footsteps can be heard echoingthrough the building at night. And that’s just the beginning...

A Halloween Tale:Journey to the Abandoned Middle School

Words, illustation andphotos by Kristen Asp

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Liz know, as the school loomed ahead, thatshe was there to serve as collateral.

“It smells like an antique store,” I saidupon entering, trying to repress memories of myown middle school days. If adolescent angstalone is enough to conjure a poltergeist, assome believe, every middle school in the coun-try is in need of exorcism. Jim unlocked thedoors to the gymnasium, and I wondered if my13-year-old self had left my own middle schoolgym a psychic mess.

“There might be bats in here,” warned Jim.“Something in here sets off the motion detec-tors a lot.” But nothing moved, so we decidedto move on after I had snapped afew photos. We were halfwaydown the hall when suddenlythere were a dozen irregular,sharp raps on the other sideof the locked doors.

“Hey, knock it off!”said Jim to the doors,and the knockingceased. Liz and Ilooked at eachother, then at thedoor, then at Jim.

“Jim, youdidn’t, like, planta guy in there,did you?” I askednervously. “Toscare us?” Heshook his headand grinned.

“Nope.”I tight-

ened my scarfaround myneck.

“Let’s go some-where else,” I sug-gested.

The NorthfieldMiddle School (andformer high school) isa remarkable building.While the 1956 addition is

in bad shape, the original construction from1911 has long windows, vaulted ceilings,wrought-iron railings, and hardwood trim. Italso has cracked floors, irregular lighting,crumbling plaster, and secret passages.Student murals and chalk still cover the walls,since the building was in use as recently at2004. As a result, the school has the perfectcombination of age, dilapidation, and residualhuman presence to make it seem very haunted.I occasionally muttered reassuring things tomyself about how normal things looked.

“Yep, just a long hallway of classrooms and

lockers. Looks like a school. Nothing weirdabout that,” I said as we entered an upper-storyhallway in the old building.

“Yeah,” said Jim, “except that last night Ishut and locked all these doors.” Every door inthe hall was wide open, including the smallglass door to the niche that housed the fireextinguisher.

“Hooooh!” said a grinning Liz, who wasproving to be obnoxiously intrepid and chipperfor collateral.

Later, in the auditorium, Liz praised theornate light fixtures even after a seven-foot longpole fell, without provocation, from the cat-

walk and rolled across the stage.After I stopped screaming, Iagreed that the Arts Unionwould have an amazing theatrevenue.

Our tour ended slightlyafter one in the morning, bywhich time my nerves wereshot from gazing down darktunnels, into windowless cran-nies, into the dusty attic, anddown a deserted stairwell intothe boiler room. The sound offootsteps that echoed throughthe building did not help,especially when they startedwhile we were standing still.Liz and I thanked Jim for histour and bade him goodnight,after which we ran to Saylesand squealed like the chick-

ens we were.I am still skeptical

about ghosts. But I dobelieve that a place can

be haunted, regardless ofwhether hauntedness is asupernatural or an architec-tural quality. We’ll know forsure once the buildingbecomes the Arts Union. Withits shiny new windows, openspaces, and modern technolo-gy, will anyone see Sarah?

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There are a few things listeners can alwaysexpect from a Magnetic Fields album: brevity,gallows humor, and songs about love gonewrong. The sound of these songs is anotherissue entirely; Magnetic Fields frontmanStephin Merritt’s preoccupations range fromsubtle electronic tinkering, on albums likeCharm of the Highway Strip, to the swells offeedback on the recent Distortion. Live at StateTheatre on October 10, Merritt and his bandprovided a strictly acoustic, borderline orches-tral take on their catalogue, and the concertwas more a recital than a typical rock show.

On stage, Merritt was an odd combinationof gravitas and visible discomfort. He was slowto speak but dryly funny nearly every time hedoes. Guitarist John Woo, cellist Sam Davol,vocalist Shirley Simms, and pianist ClaudiaGonson accompanied Merritt. Gonson was anovereager, occasionally irritating foil to the tac-iturn Merritt throughout the night. She intro-duced most songs and provided most of thestage banter (this, mostly unfiltered rambling).The most vocal band member, Gonson was alsoapparently the least rehearsed, and on a fewsongs had to be restarted while she remem-bered how to play the first bars.

The October 10 setlist was over twentysongs long, but, as is typical with Merritt’ssongwriting, few songs were over three minutes.The band drew heavily from Distortion, but also

made room for songs from i, 69 Love Songs,and Merritt side-projects The 6ths and TheGothic Archies. Early into the night, Simmsprovided lead vocals on 69 Love Songs stand-out “No One Will Ever Love You,” a song thatset the mood for the show. The album version’ssynth flourishes were replaced by acoustic gui-tar leads and cello strokes, resonating through-out the auditorium. Distortion’s bouncy surfinstrumental “Three-Way” was also trans-formed; without the studio cut’s industrialdrum sound and dissonant backgroundsqualling, it sounded slightly like a kids’ TVshow theme. Only one song from early MagneticFields album Holiday made it, the transcendent“Take Ecstasy With Me.” “Ecstasy” showed thelimitations of the band’s minimal, acoustic set-up; no instrument on stage provided the samethrill as the song’s original pulsating keyboardtones, and the substitution of Gonson forMerritt on vocals didn’t help.

Near the end of the night, the band per-formed i serenade “It’s Only Time,” and fewsongs were more compatible with the approachof the live Magnetic Fields. A nearly silentcrowd listened to Merritt’s bass voice reverber-ate through State Field accompanied bydescending piano leads, and erupted inapplause at song’s end. Even the biggest fansof the band’s electronic work or feedback con-noisseurs could not have asked for more.

Magnetic Fields Unplug, but Connectby Greg Hunter

“Barbara Ann” - The Beach BoysRemember when John McCain sang “bombIran” to the tune of this song? Haw haw! It wasterrifying. Never forget whom we’re dealingwith.

“You Dropped A Bomb On Me” - The Gap BandThis song works on two levels: one, Obama’sahead, so a McCain win would be a surprise.Two, you’ll be worrying that much more about,um, shit getting bombed. Play back-to-backwith The Weirdos’ “We’ve Got The NeutronBomb”, and you’ve got a musical two-fer!

“Old Man” - Neil YoungJohn McCain is 72.

“Suspect Device” - Still Little FingersIt might be about Northern Ireland, but it’s stillthe ultimate angry political punk song. And itfeels relevant, you know? Try the Ted Leo coverif you need something more ‘merican.

“Gasolina” - Daddy Yankee“Gasolina” not only turns every room into aSayles dance - and following a McCain win,we’ll need Sayles dances more than ever - butreminds listeners of Daddy Yankee’s McCainendorsement, one of the odder celeb interven-tions of the ‘08 political season.

“Tonight Will Be Fine” - Leonard CohenYou can cry yourself to sleep to this one.

“Arizona” - The ConstantinesMcCain is...from Arizona? We’re reaching now.But it does contain the line, “we want thedeath of rock and roll,” and in its own way,doesn’t that sum up the McCain-Palin ticket?

“C--ts Are Still Running The World” - JarvisCocker, “Fuck The Pain Away” - PeachesThe titles say it all, really.

Carl Mix: 10 Songs toPlay in the Event of a

McCain Victory

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Fleet Foxes at The Cedar:by Leah KarelsA Concert Review/Character Sketch

In line at The Cedar’s early all-ages show (my salvation aftertickets for the 8pm show sold out months ago), I waited with afriend, some forty-somethings, and horny high schoolers to finallyhear them live. Inside The Cedar, Fleet Foxes traipsed on stage andthe band’s stage presence was immediately apparent. Lead singerRobin Pecknold (who, by the way, is only 22 years old. TWENTY-TWO) exuded a friendly candor bolstered by the charisma of hisback-up vocalist, keyboardist, and drummer. After opening with“Sun Giant,” the band played song after glorious song from theirself-titled album and earlier EP as the audience stood mesmerized,awed by the way the four men harmonized their voices so purely.

I, however, couldn’t take my eyes off guitarist Skye Skjelset.Skjelset is arguably the most attractive member of the band (vague-ly resembling a more attractive Macauley Culkin) and unquestion-ably the most apathetic; he wore a vest and skinny jeans to com-plement his dirty blond mop of hair. While Pecknold and the gangbelted out notes with squinted eyes and wide-open mouths, Skjelsetnonchalantly plucked away at his guitar, completely unconcernedwith the glorious sounds coming from his bandmates. Skjelset’scontrast with the music’s raw beauty and the band’s honest charmabsolutely captivated me.When he played, he played the guitar withprecision, sometimes even using a violin bow to heighten the lushsound of his instrument, but even while performing in this kick-assstyle, the Skjelset didn’t show emotion. I saw him smile maybeonce, and it was really more of a smirk (no teeth were bared).

As the other Foxes bantered with the audience (someone shout-ed out a Sarah Palin joke and the band ran with it), microphonelessSkjelset stood, hands folded on his guitar, staring forward withsleepy eyes and a placid expression. At one point he rested his handon his hip, transmuting his blasé expression into a fashion pose.Another time he set his right elbow on the guitar, cupped his chin inhis hand, and stared out thoughtfully at the audience for abouttwenty seconds. A few times, he dropped his hands down by his side,ambled listlessly to the back of the stage and took a few sips ofCoca-Cola before slowly walking back to his spot and standing still.

At the start of the encore, Robin came back alone after two min-utes of thunderous applause to sing “Tiger Mountain Peasant Song”(I got literal chills during this one). When the other four filed on, thedrummer, singer, and keyboardist waved and smiled while Skjelsetsimply held his can of Coke. He continued to hold it through the endof the last song. As “Blue Ridge Mountains” came to a close and theaudience applauded one last time, the band thanked the all-agescrowd. Peckhold held his guitar high; the drummer made a finalPalin joke. And Skjelset? Without changing his expression, he gazedoutward, made a peace sign with the hand holding the Coke andwalked off stage.

Over the past few months, Fleet Foxes has crept, then surgedinto my consciousness with their insanely gorgeous sound. Their fullmelodies, effortless multi-part harmonies, and charming folk-but-not-obnoxiously-folk sound make listening to this band feel likeexperiencing every season at once. While out of the country thissummer, I received emails from four or five different friends tellingme that Fleet Foxes’ live show was one of the best concerts they’dever attended. On October 10, I went to see for myself.

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TThhee RReecciippee PPaaggeeDeluxe Pita Pizzas and White Whine, White Fish

White Fish wrapped with Romaineprep time: 15 minutes | cook time: 15 minutes

*The prices noted are what you’d have to pay to actually buy the ingredients.You’ll have lots of leftovers plus a mostly full bottle of white wine.

Directions: Set a pot of salted water to boil. While that

gets hot, take the Tilapia fillets out of thepackage and slice them into chunks approxi-mately one inch thick, one inch wide, and twoinches across. After you’ve done that, take thehead of Romaine and find as many big leavesas there are pieces of fish. If the center vein isreally big (more than a half inch across), cut it

out too.While you’re at it, get a big pan and poor

your wine and butter into in, and set it onmedium-high. When it starts boiling, turndown the temperature to a simmer.

Now your pot of water is boiling. We’regoing to blanch the romaine leaves. Don’tworry, blanching means boiling quickly. Sotake your Romaine leaves one or two at a timeand submerge them in the boiling water for athirty seconds to a minute. They’ll wilt andbecome a nice full dark green color. Take themout and set them on a plate.

Salt and pepper the fish. Don’t make it toosalty! Now, wrap, fold, or someway surroundthe fish with the romaine lettuce. It doesn’tmatter if its sealed or even wrapped well.Romaine leaves are tenacious and they’ll staytogether.

Place the wrapped fish in the butter andwine pan. Cook for maybe 8 to 10 minutes.You’ll know its done when a knife can easilypierce the fish.

Serves: 2-3

Deluxe Pita Pizzasprep time: 15 minutescook time: 25 minutes

Acknoledgment: Carolyn Schulte made an origi-nal version of this recipe. This recipe wouldn’texist without her insiration

Ingredients: 2 Pitas1/2 lb chunk of smoked mozzarellaHandful of cherry tomatoesHandful of mushrooms (any type)1/4 cup olive oil and balsamic vinegar1/4 cup of white sugarSalt, pepper to taste

Directions: Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.Dice tomatoes, mushrooms, and mozarella

into bite-sized chunks. Pour the oil and vinegarand toss. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Cut the pitas in half, open their pouches,and coat the outside lightly with olive oil. Stuffthe pitas. Place them on a baking pan and bakethem until the cheese is bubbling.

Serves: 2

by Alex Sciuto

Acknoledgment: I found this wonderfully sim-ple recipe this summer while surfing the web.It comes from Mark Bittman, who writes theNew York Times’ Minimalist Food Column. Hiscolumns are good, his five minute videos onnytimes.com where he cooks a single recipeare great. Just go under Style, and clickDining and Wine. He’s got lots of them.

Ingredients: 1 1/2 lbs of Tilapia fillets (they’re at Cub foods. ) $7*1 Head of Romaine lettuce $1.501 cup white wine $52 to 3 tablespoons butter $3

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If rainy, gloomy days get you down, youshould go see some art. Even if they don’t, youshould go see some art. But what do you do ifyou saw the exhibit at the Art Gallery andalready spend too much time at the libraryanyway? I’d say, drop by Boliou. This isprecisely what I did, and I wasn’t disappointed.

Boliou is hosting a new exhibit entitledSights Unheard Sounds Unseen, whichpresents the work of two former Carletonstudents: Lila Planavsky and Joshua Wolcott,graduates of ’03 and ’02, respectively. Bothstudents pursued their interest in art aftercollege, with Wolcott receiving his MFA insculpture in 2007 from University of Texas,Knoxville, and Palanvsky continuing work indrawing and printmaking at University of Texas,Knoxville, and Poland. She has also worked asan art teacher for 4th through 6th grades at anelementary school, and is pursuing a Mastersdegree in education.What relates these two artists to each-other istheir interest in exploring art, senses, and therelationship between them. In her missionstatement Palanvsky notes the importance ofconsidering the nature alongside the “magical,mythological, and sensual.” She feels that thescientific approach to nature is often limiting,and even cold. Furthermore, she stresses theimportance of feelings and emotions in viewingand understanding nature. Thus, her workspresent nature, more specifically animals, inmagical or mythical situations: an owl as apitcher or a rabbit with strapped-on wings.Wolcott also describes the importance of

senses, but his focus is the difficulty ofcommunication. He explains that he wants toexplore the “engaging and enigmatic visualpresence” in “human acts.” His work focusesprimarily on sculptures and digital photographs

of people with his sculptures. He claims that itis meant to underscore both humor andunderstanding. Both artists also use titles tohighlight the magical feel of their works.

The exhibit certainly has a strong sense ofthe whimsical. Palanvsky’s paintings, which aremostly acrylics, are bright and colorful. Thecreatures on them, though ordinary at firstglance, are frequently anything but. There is asheep in a wolf’s clothes, as well as theaforementioned owls as pitchers and rabbitswith wings. In addition to her paintings,Palanvsky also works with ink and paint oncarved panels. This style only contributes tothe enigmatic feel of her works, because herfigures appear as cut-outs.Wolcott’s photography exhibits his own work,

(his sculptures), but includes people. There arepeople wearing his creations, touching them,sitting inside them. Alongside the photos, thereare also three of the sculptures themselves,which look like combinations of horns and yourgrandmother’s gramophone. These pieces aremade out of plaster, matt boards, steel, andpaint. Most of his works draw particularattention to hearing and sounds.

Of the works in this collection, there wereseveral that stuck with me particularly. One ofthese was Palanvsky’s Whether the Pitcher Hitsthe Stone, or the Stone hits the Pitcher, It’sGoing to be Bad for the Pitcher. Another piece,also by Palanvsky, was Winged Migration. I alsoreally enjoyed Wolcott’s Past, Future, andPresent Tense.

I highly suggest a visit to Boliou, whetheryou have anything to do with arts department ornot. The works on display can speak to anyone,as they are grounding and uplifting, and evenkind of magical.

Whats your Whim?Looking at the Boliou Exhibit: Sights Unheard Sounds Unseen

Winged MigrationLila Planavsky

Acrylics on Canvas

Whether the Pitcher Hits the Stone,or the Stone hits the Pitcher, It’sGoing to be Bad for the Pitcher

Lila PlanavskyInk and Oil on Carved Canvas

Past, Future, and Present TenseJoshua Wolcott

Plaster, Matt Board, Steel, Paint

1. Black Rose by Nora Roberts

2. It's in His Kiss by Julia Quinn

3. Oceans of Fire by Christine Feehan

4. One Night with a Prince by Sabrina Jeffries

5. Mad Money by Linda L Richards

6. When We Meet Again by Victoria Alexander

7. Something Blue by Emily Giffin

8. Summer of Roses by Luanne Rice

9. Blue Dahlia by Nora Roberts

10. Jamie by Lori Foster

Craving romance? Too bad Cosmoonly comes out once a month. Buthere is something to get you to thenext issue. According to roman-cenotes.com, the top ten contempo-rary romance novels are...

by Sasha Korobova

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Five Minutes Peace

By Jill MurphyPZ7.M9534 Fi 1999

Never has a children’s book’s moral beenmore hidden to me. The entire plot is centeredaround an exasperated mother’s attempt toescape her overbearing children. Repeatedlythe mother explains that her only goal for theday is “five minutes peace away from you” toeach of her three excited children. Now don’tget me wrong, I know I was an annoying child.I don’t know how many times my own motherhas told me about the time I ran away fromhome at age two with my favorite blanket tiedto a stick, only to be returned later that night ina police cruiser. But when did shoving a child’sannoying habits in his or her face become thestuff of children’s stories? I will say, though,that the image of a middle-aged elephant sip-ping tea through her trunk in a bubble bath ispretty adorable.

Not A Box

By Antionette PortisPZ7.P8362 N68 2006

What really drew me to this book was theimage of a rabbit that looks conspicuously likethe one featured in Bunny Suicide of internetand Barnes & Noble’s Humor Section fame.This bunny, however, does not dwell on thefutility of life and instead discovers there is nolimit to his imagination. Taking the form of aSocratic Seminar, Portis forces the rabbit tothink outside of the proverbial box and take thepossibilities of its literal cardboard box towhole new levels. Truly a masterpiece on thelevel of Walden, by the end of the novel I wasat peace with my own small chunk of the world.But seriously, “why are you squirting on thebox?”, that’s what she said.

The Waterhole

By Graeme BasePZ7.B29 Gr 2001

Prepare yourself for a trip around the worldin this seemingly simple counting book turnedenvironmental treatise. We follow a wateringhole that at each locale features a new andexciting creature lapping up the slowly drainingpuddle. Each page displays dazzling and realis-tic depictions of various biomes and fuses themwith historical landmarks for a little touch ofhistory. From the Taj Mahal to Mt. Rushmore,subtle hints are given to place the new locationof the watering hole. With each new animal, thedesperation and lack of water becomes moreapparent, finally coming to a head with theladybugs of Europe - we get it Graeme, Europeis so much more on top of the environmentalscene than the rest of us - who call a meetingto discuss the impending crisis. What at firstseems like an innocent counting book, is actu-ally a work hiding a dangerous political mes-sage that upholds the primacy of colonialnations and perpetuates cultural stereotypes.We can’t always count on a fresh rain fallingfrom the sky and saving us in our times of need,Graeme. Sometimes it takes a new and excitingperspective. I’m looking at the man in the mir-ror; I’m telling him to make a change.

Readings from the RookeryEver wanted to read the children’s lit in the Rookery

instead of your textbook? One student did...by Stephen Gee

Runtime: 89 min.DIRECTED BY

Oliver Stone.WITH

Josh BrolinJames CromwellRichard DreyfussJeffrey Wright

18

THECARL|CINEMA|OCT24,2008

Reviewed byDan Sugarman

W.

If this presidential contest seems to have beengoing on forever, you can blame Bush like you mightany problem in the world. The moment some freshhungry politicos opened their mouths about howthey would lead America, we were all too eager toforget the current sitting president and the cluster-fuck he’s presided over and start thinking about theguy (or gal) to clean it up. Which is why, even withthe final chapter of the Bush presidency not yet offi-cially written, W. works surprisingly well as a filmin October 2008: for all intents and purposes, Bushis already sippping an O’Doul’s on his Texas ranch.

With W., Oliver Stone is not so much preoccu-pied with Bush the president as he is Bush the per-sonality, the alcoholic black sheep of the über-patri-cian Bush clan. George W. Bush (Josh Brolin) is firstpictured in the film on the receiving end of a frathazing ritual, sitting in a tub of freezing water as hisgiddy frat brothers-to-be pour Jack Daniels down thedesperate pledges’ throats. As the scene unfolds, welearn the three biggest things Stone wants you toknow about Bush: he’s an uncompromising drinker,good with people (Bush ingratiates himself with hisbrothers by being the only pledge who can remembertheir names, and as privileged they come (the frat isYale’s elite Skull and Bones society). Stone portraysthe first half of Bush’s life as the travels of a lostsoul, floating from job to job with a bottle of whiskeyby his side to keep him company. But while Bushstruggles to find a calling in life, what really gets tohim is the lack of affection from his father, GeorgeSr., who has handpicked younger brother Jed to fol-low him into politics. It’s that desire to impress hisfather, Stone argues, that drives Bush to rise as farin politics as possible—ending in the presidency—and, once president, to go where his father didn’tand push the U.S. army into Baghdad to captureSaddam. (That and the naïve political belief, whosebasis Stone never ventures at explaining: that onedemocracy in the Middle East will light a fire underthe entire region.)

As a work of cinema, W.’s main attraction is theinsight it offers into the psyche of Bush. Bush’srelationship with his father as he matures, his expe-rience finding religion and his political educationfrom watching his father lose his re-election battleand then his losing his first congressional race areall fascinating to behold onscreen. Unfortunately,the insight these developments offer is question-able, mostly because they’re all conjectures. That’snot to say the insights are incorrect, or that youwon’t agree with them (many of them are scarilyplausible), but until Bush publishes an autobiogra-phy to corroborate them, the inner workings of hismental world will largely remain a mystery to thepublic. For better or for worse, you can’t call spend-ing $25 million to put your guesswork about themost important political figure in the land on the bigscreen a major cinematic accomplishment.

Oddly, when the film goes for fact instead of

speculation, it’s even more difficult to watch. Thescenes about the actual Bush presidency, focusedon the lead-up to the Iraq War in 2003 and then thefallout when there turns out to be no WMDs after all,are less a comprehensive account of events thanthey are a sketch that a group of high schoolers 20years in the future might put on when their teacherasks them to explain to the class how Americaended up in the Iraq debacle. Seeing this uniformlytalented ensemble of actors try to portray the mostimportant government figures in America in one-minute-or-less is depressing. Dick Cheney (RichardDreyfuss) is crass about his imperial ambitions tothe point of incredulity; “there is no exit strategy,”he tells the president as he goes on to elaborate hiseventual plan for securing oil resources in the entireMiddle East. George Tenet (Bruce McGill) serves uphis infamous line about the WMD intelligence beinga “slam dunk”; Karl Rove (Toby Jones) offers thepresident his cynical political assessment of the sit-uation: “The American people liked Afghanistan;they want more!”; and Condeleeza Rice’s (ThandieNewton) shortage of lines intimates that she was thepresident’s ultimate yes (wo)man. Given the timeconstraints of a film that already runs over twohours, Stone gets some slack for not giving his casttime to fully flesh out their characters, but thesescenes are far and away the most difficult to watch.When they’re comical, it’s only because we areused to laughing at this set of characters in real life.Karl Rove is a weasel, Dick Cheney is an evil impe-rialist hack and Bush is an idiot: these were ready-made caricatures for Stone to exploit, and he doesso without fail.

In the end, though, W. isn’t all bad. While it’sneither a great work of cinema nor a timely politicalcommentary (see hundreds of reviewers complainingthat this should have come out in 2004 if you wantto read more on that), if you come to the theaterwith your expectations in check—and this is OliverStone after all, so that shouldn’t be too hard—themovie is still enjoyable as a satirical send-up of thehighest political figure land and his cronies (and, tosome extent, the media that enabled them along theway). But you’ll almost undoubtedly leave hopingthat Stone had either gone more yuks or none at all,instead going for a sober explanation of how weended up with such a mess almost everywhere weturn.

Confessions of aTH

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19

Junkieby Andreas Stoehr

Celluloid

I was only able to see thirteen moviesthis past week due to the pressures ofclass and normal human life. I plan tofix this in the future.

The best of those thirteen movies wasdefinitely Werner Herzog’s 1977 filmStroszek. Roger Ebert calls it “one of theoddest films ever made,” which seemspretty accurate: it’s about a Berliner ex-con and street performer who moves toWisconsin with a prostitute and theirelderly friend. “Can’t stop the dancingchickens” is one of the film’s last lines.Bruno Stroszek, as played by non-actorBruno S., is a man chronically beat down

by life. When his parole officer tells him to stop drinking, he asks, “Whocan stop?” The unthreatening Bruno is repeatedly abused by local thugs,and in America, the combined salaries of a mechanic and waitress justcan’t pay the bills. Bruno and Scheitz (the old man with an interest in“animal magnetism”) discern a “conspiracy” existing in both Germanyand America, involving the prison, the hoodlums, the bank, and thepolice . Stroszek is an eye-opening masterpiece, and I can’t recommendit enough.

Over the weekend I also finally watched Platoon, and when this sol-dier named Sal got blown up in a Vietcong bunker, I thought, I know thatguy. Very recognizable, especially by his nose, he was ‘80s and ‘90scharacter actor Richard Edson. Roles that I (and maybe you) know himfrom include that of Eddie, the third guy in Jim Jarmusch’s StrangerThan Paradise (1984); one of the valets who takes Cameron’s car for ajoyride in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off (1985); Vito, the brother who isn’tsuch a racist prick in Do the Right Thing (1989); one of Dennis Hopper’shenchmen in Super Mario Bros. (1993); and the drug-addict director inTimecode (2000).

I watched Abel Ferrara’s gritty and thrilling Ms. 45 (1981) onYouTube. Zoë Lund plays Thana, a shy, mute seamstress who gets rapedone evening. And then raped again. Silently vowing not to take it any-more, she bludgeons her second attacker to death, hacks his body topieces in the bathtub, and takes his gun on a spree of brutal revengeacross the city. With the fitting alternate title Angel of Vengeance, it’s awild labyrinth of wish fulfillment and gender politics, all leading to a cli-mactic bloodbath. Ms. 45 owes a lot to Roman Polanski’s Repulsion(1965), which I also watched recently. Catherine Deneuve is Carole, apretty Belgian girl left alone for a week in her sister’s apartment whosefear of (and obsession with) sex lead to nightmares of rape, fantasies ofhomicide, and more. Polanski’s fevered account of hysteria is sure to putyou off eating rabbit for good. Now there’s a Halloween movie.

Please sir,

I want some moreby Andrew Tatge

Stroszek (1977)

Style is to film what flavor is toa dish. Within a range, you can takea animal or plant, and if the chefhas the will and the means, canwhip up a savory meal for consump-tion.

When people ask me what myfavorite film is, I might start usingthis comparison to respond. I mightwant a croissant one day, and sitdown to An American in Paris.Simple. Easy to digest. Pleasant. Ona cold and angst ridden day, slowlyeating the entirety of a rich choco-late cake might fill the void in my

gut, and a Dreyer film fits the bill. Every now and then, somethingoutrageous, like watermelon and vanilla icecream. I don’t know whatfilm that might be, maybe A Wayward Cloud. Different styles andstories make different films appropriate for different moods, and Ihave a hard time declaring any particular mood as better than oth-ers.

Food’s primary function, however, is to sustain. I eat so as notto die. I’d like to enjoy the process of consumption, and given achoice, most of us will eat what we like. Filmmakers and chefs knowthis, and I sometimes worry that effective and popular conventionsin filmmaking/cooking will become normalized to the point that peo-ple would eat cookie doughspiked with arsenic beforeeating a loaf of wheatbread.

A Wayward Cloud (2005)

Andrew Tatge

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THECARL|C

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OWN|OCT24,2008

The CountdownNumbering the days til big things happen.

5days before Maldivian elections.The Maldives, a tiny nation comprised of1,192 islands south of Sri Lanka, holdsrunoff elections on October 29th. For 30years, President Maumoon Gayoom hasruled over this 100% Muslim archipelago(although this January a man with a kitchenknife would have assassinated him, if notfor a boy scout who wrestled the killer tothe ground), which usually has moretourists than Maldivians. Yet, after letting

go of most of his authoritarian powers,rival Mohamed Nasheed will have achance to take control of this paradise.Paradise is relative, though, consideringthat environmentalists fear that furtherrise in sea levels could quickly inundatethe entire country. Not that it matters – infive to six months time, the Large HadronCollider will create a black hole that swal-lows the Earth anyway.

If you notice thatthere are morenerds than usual

walking between Olin and Laird onNovember 15th, we'll be impressed—because it means that you were able tospot the few dozen nerds that don't go toCarleton amidst the 2000 nerds that dogo here.

15days until CUT, the CarletonUndergraduate Quiz Bowl Tournament.

“Classic” meaning an outdoor hockeygame played at Wrigley Field in

Chicago between the Detroit Red Wings and the hostingBlackhawks on January 1. We mention this for two reasons.Firstly, it’s a historical event—at no other time that we areaware of has the team with the longest championship droughtin one sport (Blackhawks) played in the stadium of the teamwith the longest championship drought in another sport (theCubs). Secondly, as a Minnesotan publication, we are obli-gated to acknowledge people from other states who are act-ing Minnesotan—that is to say, they'll be watching hockey,freezing various parts of their anatomy off, and drinking a lotof beer to forget that they're doing the first two.

68days until the “Winter Classic.”

Going to Carleton, you’re constantly inundatedwith stimulating places to go. Add to that inun-dation a day trip to the Twin Cities to go on aguided tour of Twin Cities architecture led byLarry Millett, an architectural teacher at theSchool of Visual Arts in Saint Paul. You’ll getleave at 9 a.m. and get back by the late after-noon. E-mail jcoxjohn@carleton.edu with anyquestions or to reserve your space on the tour.

8days until the daytriparchitectural tour ofthe Twin Cities leavesfrom Northfield

With the recentappearance of anew Watchmenteaser on Spike

TV's ScreamAwards (and its subsequent reappearanceonline), it is becoming clearer and clearerthat Zack Synder's adaptation of the comicbook is not going to be an objectively goodmovie. But checking off our favoritemoments from the comic book as they'rebrought to life on screen still sounds like apretty fun time. (Did you see DoctorManhattan's giant hand grab Ozymandias!?)

134days until Watchmen's release

TTHHIISS WWEEEEKK IINN TTHHEE CCAARRLL

PPLLEEAASSEE RREECCYYCCLLEE YYOOUURR CCAARRLL

02 EDITORS’ NOTEPrescience and struggle in the face of meaninglessness.

03 DOORMATThe cement penis: gone, or merely circumsized? • Someone reviewed Matt Pieh’swriting portfolio, and he’s gonna find out who • Topical Halloween costumes

07 SOCIETYAn Ole review the Carleton party scene • Bad grammar at Carleton are debated •What was uncool is cool again • Fashion: Put it on!

10 FEATUREIs the future Arts Union haunted?

12 MUSICFleet Foxes and The Magnetic Fields, in concert, but not both at the same time,reviewed here, but in separate articles • A mix in the event of a McCain win

14 PERFORMANCESEmily Ruff has seen the future, but chooses only to report on student theatre fromthe upcoming weekend

15 CULINARYYou didn’t ask for it, but it’s back!

16 ARTS & LITStephen Gee on children’s literature • Sasha Korobova on Bolio’s latest installation

18 CINEMAOliver Stone gets political in W • Andreas Stoeher: cultural excavator • Tatge onstyle

20 CARTOONSBerkeley Breathed might be retiring Opus, but we’re just getting started

22 FUN & GAMESTic Tac Smackdown! • Text message wordsearch

23 COUNTDOWNNumbering the days till big things happen