1 6
“When there is no hope, there is always
the military.”
-p 15
In a sense, we seniors epitomize adult human beings who are free to have all the food and sex we want. Our
conversation focuses on the outcome of last week’s Top Chef nale (Hosea? Really?) and upon the phenom-
enon of the senior scramble—a steroidal interpretation of the laissez-faire attitude towards sex enjoyed by
many Brown students, a clearance sale of hook-ups.
In Tuesday’s Providence Democratic Mayoral Election, political newcomer Angel Tavares soundly defeated
two well-established Federal Hill bosses, John Lombardi and Steven Costantino. Most pundits correctly pre-
dicted that Lombardi and Costantino would split votes among their Democractic base. ey did, but all their
votes combined couldn’t have beaten Tavares, who won 49% of the vote. He did so thanks to a new, rapidly
growing Catholic base dominated by the Hispanic population which makes up nearly 40% of Providence.
e state’s old-school politicians are fading fast. Last February, US Representative Patrick Kennedy an-
nounced he would not seek reelection. Bill Lynch, one of the candidates running for Kennedy’s seat, nished
last in Tuesday’s primary. Lynch, whose father was Mayor of Pawtucket, has chaired the state Democratic
Party for the last 12 years. His brother Patrick Lynch B’87, meanwhile, will step down as Attorney General
in January, and dropped out of the Governor’s race this summer to avoid “injuring” the party with a bit-
ter Democratic primary against State Treasurer Frank Caprio. e Lynches, once proud ambassadors of the
Blackstone Valley political establishment, will now both return to private legal practice.
In 2006, the Boston Phoenix identied the arrival of a new rst family of Rhode Island Democrats in a
piece called “Caprios on the Rise.” But on Tuesday, Democratic State Senator David Caprio lost the primary
to relative unknown Teresa Tanzi, who attacked Caprio for losing touch with his community.
So it’s all up to brother Frank to take the Governorship and redeem the Democratic old-guard. If he
doesn’t, nostalgics need not fret. His strongest challenger is Lincoln Chafee B’75, the former Republican US
Senator whose family name runs 125 years deep in Rhode Island politics. –SVZW

MANACINC FDITORS KaLic 1cnnings, Tarah Knarcsboro, Fli SchmiLL - NFWS AshLon SLraiL, Fmma
WhiLíord, 1onah Wolí - MFTRO Maud Doylc, Ccorgc A. Warncr, Simon van Zuylcn-Wood - OPINION Mimi
Dwycr, Brian 1udgc - FFATURFS Alicc Hincs, NaLalic 1ablonski, MargucriLc PrcsLon, Adrian Randall - ARTS
1ordan CarLcr, Alcxandra Corrigan, Frik FonL, NaLasha Pradhan - SCIFNCF KaLic Dclancy, Nupur Shridhar
- SPORTS Malcolm Burnlcy - FOOD Bcllc Cushing - IITFRARY Rcbckah Bcrgman, CharloLLc Crowc - BIOC
KaLc Wclsh - X PACF KaLic Cui - IIST Simonc Iandon, Frin Schikowski, Dayna TorLorici - DFSICN Fmily
Fishman, IiaL Wcrbcr, Rachcl Wcxlcr, 1oanna Zhang, Blakc Bcavcr, Mary-Fvclyn Farroir - IIIUSTRATIONS
Fmily MarLin, RobcrL Sandlcr - COVFR FDITOR Fmily MarLin - MFCA PORN STAR Raphacla Iipinsky -
SENIOR EDITORS Margo Irvin, Simone Landon, Erin Schikowski, Emily Segal, Dayna Tortorici
MVP: Jonah Kagan
COVER ART: Nick Carter Too Much Too Soon
e College Hill Independent
PO Box 1930
Brown University
Providence, RI 02912
Letters to the editor are welcome distractions. e College Hill
Independent is published weekly during the fall and spring
semesters and is printed by TCI Press in Seekonk, MA.
e College Hill Independent receives support from Campus Progress/Center for American Progress.
FALL 2010
as if you care... ephemera
Week in Review (Whitford & Strait)
Bye, LFO Dude (Landon)
RI Pigs n’ Chickens (Rausnitz & Peterson-Rockney)
Unemployed and Active (A. Warner)
Pictures of Ivy Kids, but Japanese, and old (Cohen)
Human Tragedy in Contemporary Art & Fashion
A Final Dignity (Delaney)
A Family Member back from Iraq (Ramos)
Te Future of Digital Music (Morley)
Marionettes Hang out Forever (Hsiung)
Trapped Miners in the Limelight (Welsh)
q: Where do Malls go when they Die? a: Warwick
Gelato is delicious. Seriously. (Cushing)
contents from the editors
18 (Gui)
I got your messages on my cell phone yesterday while I was at the library bor-
rowing books on chess, and listened to the “Springtime” mix you made me on
the bike ride home; I missed you a lot right then. Columbia is weird as usual.
Last night, Kevin, Julian, and I were invited to watch an illegal deathmatch be-
tween a cat and a parrot to take place at the pet store in the mall after it closed.
Apparently, mall security got wind of the debacle and the whole affair was called
off. However, the prospect of this fight was enough to make my evening feel
pretty insane. I’m starting to have trouble with the idea that I have a little more
than one week left here in sunny, downtown Columbia.
National underwear day was August 5, but it seems
the nation’s obsession with undergarments has
experienced an interesting uplift in certain areas.
Indccd, jusL in Limc íor Ncw York's Fashion Wcck,
with its inux of tall, thin, at-as-an-ironing-board
models, new online retailers have started catering to
those with, shall we say, smaller mammary endow-
In the past few months there has also been a re-
surgence of pride among small-breasted women.
Blogs like and the “small
breast support group” on the forum are
popping up weekly, created by women looking to
empower themselves by sharing wisdom, advice,
and anecdotes about their “booblets.”
Welcome to 21
century feminism. e “small
breast support group” is chock full of women al-
ternately crowing and lamenting about their “little
ones” and “teensy tatas.” Certainly the most en-
tertaining part of the support group has to be the
one male contributor, who goes by the screen name
just_a_guy and describes himself as an “ardent
feminist” while comparing small-breasted women to
sports cars and making comments like, “I love a lithe
little package 5’2” with A cups and 95 pounds soak-
ing wet.” Charming.
Of course what these websites fail to do in the
midst of their lingerie reviews and me-thinks-the-la-
dy-doth-protest-too-much small breast pride posts,
is actually address the pertinent issue. Any feminist
worth her salt would tell you it’s probably unwise to
nurse our cultural obsession with breasts. at said,
it’s di cult to ght oppressive beauty standards
when you’re 95 pounds and soaking wet. –AS
e Russian Finance Minister Alexei Kudrin has
come up with a unique strategy to pull his coun-
try out of an economic quagmire: feeding o of his
countrymen’s vices. A new tax on cigarettes was
passed by the Parliament in June that will raise the
government prot on 1000 cigarettes to $19.20
from $11.39 by 2013, at which time an alcohol tax
increase is predicted to raise the price of a liter of
the cheapest vodka from $2.81 to $4.71.
“ose who drink, those who smoke are doing
more to help the state,” Kudrin stated in an inter-
view with Interfax News Agency.
Not everyone is on board with the new policy.
Yuri Iuzhkov, Lhc mayor oí Moscow, signcd a law
last month to prohibit the sale of liquor between
10 PM and 10 AM in an eort to cut consumption
by 50 percent. e worst part of this policy is of
course that the most popular anodyne to personal
economic woes will now contribute to those woes,
and won’t even be easily accessible. ese laws lend
some truth to that old joke: in Mother Russia, the
cigarettes smoke you. –AS
Weex tN Revtew
by Ashton Strait and Emma Whitford
Illustration by Manvir Singh
Last Friday, sixty-two year old Michael Edwards of the Electric Light Orchestra was driving his minivan on
the A381 in England. According to police reports, a 1,300-pound bale of hay rolled down the adjacent slope
and ipped 15 feet over a hedge, striking the roof of his van. Edwards swerved into oncoming tra c and hit
another vehicle. e other driver was not harmed, but Edwards died on impact.
e Electric Light Orchestra (ELO) was a British band popular in the late ’70s and early ’80s that gave
rock a classical bent with strings, horns and woodwinds. Its rst hit single was “10538 Overture”—a song
with layers of overdubbed cello ris about an escaped prisoner called 10538. Edwards played cello for ELO,
and was known for his tendency to trade in his bow for a grapefruit during concerts (a stunt that probably
wouldn’t have gone over well at the Royal Academy of Music where he was trained).
ELO had 27 Top 40 singles between 1972 and 1986. However, Edwards left the band in 1975 just as it was
hitting its stride. He turned from psychedelic rock to baroque orchestration, founding the Devon Baroque
Orchestra in Devon, England. Edwards had been slotted to perform with e Daughters of Elvin, a medieval
folk band, in Totnes this Saturday night.
e police who responded to the scene identied Edwards as a former ELO member using band photos
and YouLubc íooLagc. DcspiLc Lhc Lragic circumsLanccs, such a bizarrc accidcnL sccms an apL hnalc íor Lhc
man responsible for the ‘Dying Swan’—a performance piece from the ELO days that concluded with an ex-
ploding cello. –EW
MA & PhD
focus on
the cultural
history of
the material
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November 14, 11am
December 5, 11am
For full-time and
part-time students
the deadline is
January 3, 2011.
Fellowships and
scholarships are
available for
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Eteov rou Rtcn
by Simone Landon
gaza’s 1st Ƃ truck driver
@ma’an news
bolivia’s mennonites
@burn magazine
redesigning the dollar
@dowling dollar
nola hip-hop
muslim grrrls
vintage mobile cinema
show me your papers
things we like on the web*
*to access /3, go to
[To the tune of LFO.’s “Summer Girls”]
I think it’s sad when former boy band members die…
Do you remember LFO, and that summer…that summer?
Hair gel and long sleeve tees, your name was Rich
Leukemia made you sick
I don’t know why you had to die, what a bummer, what a bummer
I don’t know if you ever saw Lilo and Stitch
But you had a good handle on 90s kitsch
Your ßy wordplay madc oLhcr boy bands look way dumbcr, look way dumbcr
Big Willie Style, you always kept it jiggy
You wcrc likc KcrmiL and I was Miss Piggy
So lyte and funkie, how did you do it?
Your cx is horsc-whispcrcr 1cnniícr Iovc HcwiLL
Grew up in Kingston (MA), into hip-hop
Shari Lewis was the voice of Lamb Chop
You workcd aL blockbusLcr bcíorc you madc iL big
In England, William Pitt opposed the Whigs
Everyone loved the way “Summer Girls” rhymed
But my favorite song was “Every Other Time”
Who were those other guys? Devin and Brad?
ey couldn’t match the charisma you had
Johnny Cash was the man in black
You'vc bccn gonc a wcck buL I wanL you back
I like Harry Potter but I hate quidditch
One thing I know is I’ll always miss you, Rich
Hair gel and long sleeve tees, your name was Rich
Leukemia made you sick
I don’t know why you had to die, what a bummer, what a bummer
I don’t know if you ever saw Lilo and Stitch
But you had a good handle on 90s kitsch
Your ßy wordplay madc oLhcr boy bands look way dumbcr, look way dumbcr
e Dallas Cowboys are America’s Team
You lcíL mc spccchlcss likc my man Mr. Bcan
Pop rocks and cola are kind of risky
But I wouldn’t say no to a Coke and whiskey
You kcpL iL sLraighL-cdgc as íar as I know
Loved autumn leaves and the winter snow
Your oLhcr big hiL was ¨ɥc Cirl on TV"
In it, you even copped to being cheesy
But you shouldn’t worry about your reputation
ey still listen to LFO on the space station
I don’t know if that’s true, but it sounds right
Do you think Pat Sajak ever boned Vanna White?
You always rcppcd BosLon as wcll as you could
Now there’s a hole in my heart where you once stood
I like Harry Potter but I hate quidditch
One thing I know is I’ll always miss you, Rich
Hair gel and long sleeve tees, your name was Rich
Leukemia made you sick
I don’t know why you had to die, what a bummer, what a bummer
I don’t know if you ever saw Lilo and Stitch
But you had a good handle on 90s kitsch
Your ßy wordplay madc oLhcr boy bands look way dumbcr, look way dumbcr
You'rc up in hcavcn and LhaL sccms so wrong
I wish you’d left us with just one more song
Rich Cronin, now you’re out of sight
Death is a cave and you’re a stalagmite.
SIMONE LANDON B’10.5 wears Abercrombie & Fitch.
We’ve got
your art desires.
All the brands you know
and trust under one roof.
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Sale Prices Good Thursday, September 16 - Wednesday, September 29, 2010 only.
Over the last ten years a digital coup
d’etat has overthrown media market-
place conventions. No longer do we have
to meddle with real discs or bother driv-
ing somewhere or ordering something
via the postal service; we, being the hy-
per-productive lazy-asses we are, would
more readily just download the latest,
greatest, proverbial hot cultural shit
straight to our hard drives through the
“series of tubes” we all know and love.
e truth is in the numbers. Apple,
based solely on iTunes, is now the larg-
est music provider in the world. Ama-—a company with no physical
stores—tied with Walmart earlier this
year for second place. Video-rental ser-
vice NetFlix introduced video-streaming
to its website in 2009 and it’s already
used by some 42% of its 11 million-
plus subscribers. e Kindle, Amazon’s
e-book reader, is causing mass book
publisher hysteria, and for good reason:
from April to July of this year, 143 Kin-
dle books were reportedly sold for every
100 hardcovers. Digital purchases of mu-
sic jumped from 20% to 35% of all music
sales from 2007 to 2009 according to the
NPD, and digital movie sales increased
20% in 2009. is was and continues to
be a market on the move.
As with any new revenue stream that
consumers, producers, and distributors
dive into in lemming-like droves, the
three groups naturally began to smack
into each others’ skulls, and through
the usual suit/countersuit follow-ups
they’ve managed to ask some questions
essential to the continuation of a mar-
ketplace on the World Wide Web. What
is ‘owning’ something that doesn’t phys-
ically exist? Does a consumer ever actu-
ally have full control over these ‘prod-
ucts,’ or is digital ownership no more
than a gloried rental service? And what
of the artists—are they stuck in the
background, shu ed about by third-par-
ty players that funnel their output into
only the appropriate channels for mass
electronic consumption?
Currently the most disturbing trend in
digital distribution is the continuing
Cold War between borderline monopo-
lies such as iTunes with the staggering
number of consumers who download
media without paying. e IFPI, an in-
ternational body of music law, estimated
in 2009 that 95% of all music downloads
were illegal, and by last count (2006),
the NPD said that illegal video down-
loads outnumber legal ones ve to one.
In addition to these staggering numbers,
the myriad of sources where les can be
shared has turned these law-breakers
into an anonymous, legally untouch-
able mass that any practical company
wouldn’t even consider trying to sue.
So, forced on the defensive, the indus-
try mammoths have turned to the use
of DRM, Digital Rights Management,
to try and keep the les they sell from
being used in ways they don’t approve
of. Results were not as expected: Kindle
caught heat in 2009 for remotely remov-
ing George Orwell’s (the irony) 1984 and
Animal Farm from users’ devices due to
a publisher squabble without any prior
notice or consent from their users. In
ANo TneN Tneue Weue
by Nick Morley
200S, íormcr írcc conLcnL sLalwarL You-
tube transformed into a corporate police
state by deciding to follow through on
any publisher’s request to remove up-
loaded videos that didn’t explicitly cite
songs or movie clips. And until last year,
iTunes would not let any le downloaded
through its store be played in any device
but iPods, sometimes even giving cer-
tain playlists a limited number of burns
to CD before locking it on a user’s com-
puter for good. Even consumers had to
ask—did these items belong to them at
all? What kind of strings were attached
without them knowing?
Whether these oppressive small-print
policies are hampering or engendering
illegal downloads is still subject of stale-
mated debate, though a third option
on the rise may be digital distribution’s
most encouraging—the artist-run ser-
vicc. Whilc YouLubc did iLs Lhing wiLh
free video uploads for all, initiatives like
those at and Ama-
zon’s Digital Text Platform are letting
startup musicians and authors actually
prot in the digital age for nary a penny.
It removes the middleman—the industry
price-and format-locking or a publishing
group’s demands— and allows an artist
to appeal directly to their fanbase. Band-
camp, recently buoyed by the release of
Suan Stevens’ newest EP, even allows
the albums to go for free (certainly an
option to consider in the ever-expanding
world of online interconnection). Still,
these are relatively independent and, un-
til recently, unnoticed projects—Davids
to the Goliaths currently holding down
a market lled with questions yet to be
really answered in anything other than
lawyerspeak. e balance is at least in
question, though, and the norm- market
dominance despite a steady stream of
DRM controversy- is ripe for uprooting.
e success of creator-driven sites
like bandcamp and, to a lesser extent,
YouLubc, combincd wiLh popular pay-
what-you-want album releases from art-
ists like Radiohead and Nine Inch Nails,
is too great to ignore. ese schemes ap-
peal to the educated music fan, the one
who could pay for music but refuses to
to give it to e Man. With this demo-
graphic alone, a substantial amount of
those illegal downloaders would give art-
ist-run services a passing glance, which
is all any website with ad revenue needs
to begin to build a nancial base. Plus,
whilc YouLubc bowcd Lo corporaLc prcs-
sure, an artist-run market would be im-
mune to such threats, as any free prod-
uct is only let loose with the consent of
the creator. Sure, it may take a few more
bona de big-sellers through the servic-
es to make a lasting impression, but the
paranoid big digital industry had best be
wary of this upstart trend. After all, fol-
lowing the French Revolution, did not
Robespierre’s head also roll?
slingshot aimed, ready.
PuovtoeNce snvs Y.I.M.B.Y
io ine cntcxeNs
PouctNe Pnuiv
of what we eat comes from farms within the state” and sees the promise of “a more
sustainable future for Rhode Island” in “enhancing our capacities for growing food
locally via farms or back yards, both urban and rural.”
With the amendment passing so overwhelmingly (only one vote in opposition), it
seems odd that the ban had stood for so many decades. Chitnis believes many people
were misinformed about the trouble they thought hens would cause. Part of her cam-
paign entailed debunking common myths about hens, including that they are noisy
and dirty, will lure predators and spread disease, and need far more roaming space
than the average city yard. As Chitnis explained in an e-mail, “I believe we presented
such a good, well-researched argument that it was hard to refute.” ough PECK got
its way, it’s not clear that the Council took the issue seriously. When the Council
members voted, a few of them chuckled as they approved the measure.
For those ready to take up urban homesteading, there are costs. Chitnis’s cam-
paign literature says that a small coop and pen can cost as little as $100, though she
says she spent upward of $2,000 on her own supplies (and built the coop herself). But
beyond the initial investment, hens don’t require much. Feed is cheap, and chickens
will also eat kitchen scraps and forage for bugs and vegetation growing in the yard.
Providence probably won’t be overrun with chickens anytime soon, and with a cap
of six hens per household (and the average hen laying ve eggs per week), nobody is
going to have a big enough surplus to sell to covetous neighbors who lack the time or
money to raise their own eggs. But for those who can make the investment, Provi-
dence just became a much more welcoming place for a backyard farmer.
ZACH RAUSNITZ B’10.5 learned all about chickens from Arrested Development.
isillusioned by your egg options at the supermarket, and shut out
by the prices at the farmers market? Prefer to take matters into
your own hands? Providence residents now have a new option.
Lastweek, with a near-unanimous vote, the Providence City Coun-
cil passed an ordinance amendment allowing city-dwellers to raise one hen per 800
square feet of lot area, with a maximum of six hens.
Christine Chitnis, an East Side resident, led the successful campaign. For a year,
she managed to raise a pair of Ameraucana hens—known for their blue eggs—in
her backyard without trouble. In early June, an animal control o cer came by her
house, and informed Chitnis, 27, that she had two days to get rid of the chickens.
After the chickens were conscated and temporarily relocated to a farm in Massa-
chusetts, she organized a group of supporters informally called People Encourag-
ing Chicken Keeping (PECK).
Krista Iacobucci, a 34-year-old speech-language pathologist and PECKer who
was already raising chickens in Providence’s Elmhurst neighborhood when it was
illegal, wrote in an e-mail to the Independent that she wants “to have fresh, local
organic eggs” and that by raising hens at home, her three children also get to learn
“where our food comes from.” As a bonus, hens “are fun to watch, easy to care for,
don’t smell and don’t make much noise.” Or, as she puts it: “e perfect pet!” Her
coop, where the hens lay eggs and sleep safely at night, allots four square feet per
hen. During the day, “they have the run of the yard,” which is surrounded by a four-
foot fence. Chores include bringing out food and water in the morning, closing up
the hens at night, and cleaning the coop once a week.
In addition to gathering hundreds of signatures, PECK gained the support
of many community groups, including Southside Community Land Trust, Farm
Fresh Rhode Island and the African Alliance of Rhode Island. e head of Rhode
Island’s Division of Agriculture, Ken Ayars, also wrote a letter to the city council in
support of the amendment in which he expressed his worry that only “one percent
or early English settlers
in New England, livestock
was more than just a
source of food. Roger Wil-
liams, founder of Rhode
Island and Providence Plantations,
thought the transition “from Barbarism
to Civilitie [sic]” rested in “keeping some
kind of cattel [sic].” While docile cattle
were the English settlers’ animals of
choice, the Native Americans who ad-
opted livestock most often chose the pig.
Pigs could scavenge, defend themselves
from predators, and come when called.
But English pigs were a nuisance for Na-
tive Americans. Left to run free, pigs
destroyed cornelds, berry patches, and
shellsh beds. Often, they got caught
in traps left for deer
the vagrancy Snow sought to banish.
e nal blow might have been the
municipal garbage plant built on a
swamp close to the Fox Point communi-
ty in 1890. e same residents who were
forced to kill their trash-eating swine
were now told to embrace the rest of the
city’s waste without any personal gain.
But the plant was too expensive to
maintain and closed after just three
years. Providence again turned to the
pig. By the end of World War I, more
than 2,000 hogs were raised just beyond
Providence each year on the city’s waste.
But the glory days of pigs, roam-
ing the streets and feasting on mo-
lasses, were over. Pigs were no lon-
ger part of the city ecology. Bacon
was found at the grocery store, and
trash disappeared to the landll.
B’11 is making lard in the cauldron.
and other wildlife, and Native Ameri-
cans were forced to pay the owner for
the damage done to the caught hog.
e real glory days for the pig in
Rhode Island were in the early 19
tury. As Providence grew, pigs became
a common sight in poorer neighbor-
hoods like Fox Point. Left to roam free,
the pigs ate trash, manure, and swill.
But hogs often wandered down a u-
ent Benet Street, bringing their smell
and reminder of an agricultural past
into the richer neighborhoods of Provi-
dence. On May 11, 1825, e Providence
Patriot described one incident from
nearby Stonington, Connecticut that
was no doubt relatable to the everyday
experiences of readership of the paper:
“It was only the day before yester-
day that one of these gentle-
men upon all fours, who
appears to possess
rather rened taste, for one of his grade
in society, and who, perhaps, had a mind
to avail himself of speculation in West-
Indes[sic] produce, walked very deliberately
into the cellar of a store near the wharf,
and with a good deal of sang froid, pulled
the tap from a hogshead of molasses.”
In 1854, Edwin Snow, the city’s Super-
intendent of Health, blamed the deaths
of 25 cholera victims on Fox Point hogs.
Soon, they became the scapegoat for epi-
demics, vagrancy, and crime. He claimed
that the 40 tons of pork raised on gar-
bage and then eaten by its residents
was diseased, and couldn’t believe “pork
raised in city pens, or under city stables,
or fed upon city oal, should be eaten by
human bcings." (Ycars laLcr, Snow's suc-
cessor, Charles Chapin, conducted blind
taste tests between grain and garbage fed
pork, coming to the conclusion that “the
garbage-fed pork was rmer and stood
higher” and was of superior quality.)
So Providence turned waste into a
protable venture, selling trash collec-
tion licenses to contractors who paid for
the privilege of removing waste. ey
sold it to hog farmers just outside the
city limits. e only problem, as Snow
complained, was that the hogs “soon
began to reappear, and increased to
an alarming extent.” Pushed out of the
trash cycle by city o cials, women and
children began to steal trash to feed
their now-illegal hogs, perpetuating
Joseph Mastrofran-
cesco, a tall, portly
man from Fall River,
has worked in manu-
facturing all his life.
In 1988, he found
his rst job at Cowen
Plastics—the oldest
injectable molding company in Rhode Is-
land, until it shut down in 2006. Nearly
20 years and a string of manufacturing
jobs later, Mastrofancesco went to work
at ompson Products in 2006, running
the machines that make photo boxes. “I
thought I was going to be pretty much
set,” he says.
But in February 2008, he was told he
would be out of a job in June. e factory
shut down; production shifted to a sister
company overseas. Countless resumes,
four interviews, and two years later,
Mastrofrancesco is still out of a job. Be-
tween June, when his unemployment
benets ran out, and late August, when
his wife found a job, the couple lived on
$300 dollars a month. If Mastrofran-
cesco’s family hadn’t owned the house
the couple lives in, he doesn’t know how
they would have survived.
For Rhonda Taylor of North Provi-
dence, the last two years have been simi-
lar: resume after resume led, interviews
few and far between, no jobs oered. She
had been employed most of her life, rst
as a teacher in New Hampshire, most
recently in the merchandising depart-
ment of a large company based in Rhode
Island. Taylor, who is 42, lost her job in
late 2008. “Apparently, once my job be-
came automated, I was not necessary
When her unemployment ran out
earlier this year, her family—four chil-
dren and a husband who is also unem-
ployed—was left only with food stamps
and the money she receives for her nine-
year-old son from Social Security, $713
dollars a month. “My rent alone is $750,”
she says. She’s afraid her family might
have to move to a shelter.
Despite mounting bills and bouts of
depression that have come with unem-
ployment, Mastrofancesco and Taylor—
like many other unemployed Americans
around the US—have started to speak
up. Instead of taking it to the streets,
they have connected with a vibrant on-
line community of others hit hard by
unemployment. Using UCubed, a social
network for the unemployed, Facebook
pages like “Tier 5 to Survive” and promi-
nent blogs like LayoList and Jobless
Unite, unemployed people around the
country have collectively petitioned poli-
ticians, shared resources for nding jobs
and negotiating government benets,
combated stereotypes, and advocated
for legislation.
In our Great Recession, the experience
of unemployment has radically changed.
Before 2008, unemployment was di -
cult, but usually short. ree-fourths or
more of the unemployed would nd a job
in less than six months, even during the
roughest of times. Now, unemployment
lasts over six months for nearly half of
those without a job. As a group, they are
older, almost certainly without a college
degree, and likely to continue being job-
less. Many, until now, felt solidly middle
class. Now, they are becoming part of the
growing American poor.
e new reality of unemployment
seems here to stay. is past Sunday
on ABC, Austan Goolsbee, chair of the
Obama administration’s Council of Eco-
nomic Advisers, warned that unemploy-
ment is “going to stay high.” In Rhode
Island and Southeastern Massachusetts,
the same industries that have resulted
in the most job losses—manufacturing,
administrative services and construc-
tion—are the ones least likely to return.
At the same time, the unemployed
have faced increased criticism from the
political right. For them, chronic unem-
ployment is not a structural issue: it is
the product of supposedly anemic work
ethic made worse by generous govern-
ment handouts. In June, Senator Orrin
Hatch (R-UT) explained the rationale
behind his proposal to drug test all re-
cipients of government assistance: “We
should not be giving cash to people
who basically are going to go blow it on
drugs.” In Nevada, Sharron Angle, the
Republican challenger to Senator Harry
Reid (D), suggested that the unemployed
were “spoiled.” Glenn Beck thinks that
unemployed people—unwilling to work
because of unemployment benets—
should be ashamed to call themselves
Americans. e unemployed should “go
out and get a job…work at McDonalds.
Work two jobs,” he said.
But, as Taylor says, “I can’t even get
a job at Burger King,” let alone two. For
Mastrofrancesco, who quit smoking cig-
arettes over the last year, the question
is: “How do you expect us to take drugs
and party when we can barely pay the
bills?” It is less that people are unwilling
to work than that there are simply few
jobs to be had. In July, there were nearly
ve job seekers for every job opening. As
of August, there were 15 million Ameri-
cans unemployed. And while Republi-
cans—and some Democrats—oppose
extending unemployment insurance, the
Congressional Budget O ce, Paul Krug-
man and Joseph Stieglitz all agree that
unemployment benets, by providing
guaranteed spending, are a surere way
to stimulate our still-dormant economy.
e unemployed are not rolling with the
punches, they are ghting back. On Au-
gust 12, unemployed people from New
York and clscwhcrc rallicd on Wall SLrccL,
demanding that Congress address long-
term unemployment. But for many of
the unemployed, the cost of travel makes
attending such rallies too costly. Taylor
laughs at the idea of driving down to
Ncw York. Sincc hcr car rcgisLraLion cx-
pired, she is more concerned about how
she is going to travel around Providence.
She plans on learning to navigate RIPTA,
a service she has yet to use.
In lieu of rallies, the unemployed have
turned online. Taylor has posted articles,
legislative updates, and pending actions
to “e 99ers need a Tier V added to Un-
employment Benets,” a Facebook page,
recently helping a Cleveland area man
nd transportation to the One Nation
Working Together rally this October in
Mastrofrancesco has kept people in-
formed too, using Facebook as a means
to share his experience of receiving Pell
Grants designated specically for dislo-
cated workers. With the help of those
grants, he is now getting retrained as a
social worker at Bristol Community Col-
lege. He hopes his comments will help
other unemployed people take advan-
tage of the same, underused program.
Since April, much of the action has
been geared at getting Congress to pass
a fth tier of unemployment benets,
now limited to a maximum of 99 weeks
in states with high unemployment. On
May Day, unemployed blogger Paladi-
nette (known as Donalee King o ine),
helped organize a “Mayday SOS” cam-
paign. She posted the fax numbers for
Members of Congress, President Obama
and White House sta on her blog, Job-
less Unite—and encouraged unemployed
readers to fax in their resumes as a pro-
test. At the time, the LA Times explained:
“a further extension is considered un-
likely.” Senator Max Baucus (D-MT), the
powerful head of the Senate Finance
Committee, said that he thought “99
weeks [of benets] is su cient.”
e organizing has started to pay o.
In June, both Taylor and Mastrofrances-
co’s stories were highlighted at a meet-
ing of the House Ways and Means Com-
mittee proposing potential responses to
unemployment. On August 4, the Amer-
icans Want to Work Act (AWTWA) was
introduced in the Senate, co-sponsored
by both Senator Sheldon Whitehouse
(D-RI) and Senator Jack Reed (D-RI). e
legislation would provide 20 additional
weeks of benets for the unemployed
in states with unemployment above 7.5
percent, potentially keeping Taylor’s
family in her home. It would also expand
and extend tax benets for companies
that hire the long-term unemployed,
counteracting the prejudice that long-
term unemployed workers have experi-
enced while searching for jobs.
But passing AWTWA will be an up-
hill battle. Many members of Congress
see the ght to keep the temporary 99
weeks intact as a still uncertain victory.
Whether or not AWTWA passes, the per-
sistent voices of the unemployed have
helped keep the worsening problem of
long-term joblessness on the public ra-
dar this fall.
Despite their activism, Mastrofran-
cesco and Taylor are no politicos. “I hate
my situation the way it is,” Mastrofran-
cesco says. His priority is to nish his
associate’s degree and nd a job. Politics
come second.
GEORGE A. WARNER B’10.5 is a
surere way to stimulate our dormant

by George A. Warner
Illustration by Kah Yangni
DWD services was strictly legal, it would
still be easy enough for an Oregon hos-
pice worker to refer a patient to a phy-
sician willing to provide those services.
But they don’t. Most Oregon hospice
patients are left to navigate the DWD
process—meaning, nding a physician
and jumping all the legal hurdles—on
their own. For hospices, the reservations
about DWD apparently run deeper than
the legal topsoil, hitting the bedrock of a
hospice’s moral foundation.
Hospices have had to work hard to
combat the public perception that pal-
liative care is “giving up” or, as Atul
Gawande put it in a recent New Yorker
piece: “e picture I had of hospice was
of a morphine drip.” And while it’s hard
for most people to imagine that forgo-
ing chemo or opting out of a last-ditch
surgery is not equivalent to hastening
death, the research all points the same
way: for many patients, there is no dif-
ference in survival time between hospice
clients and those receiving aggressive
treatment. In fact, for some diseases,
hospice patients have been found to
live longer than their intubated, ICU-
residing counterparts. So it’s not hard to
see why Oregon hospice programs would
want to steer clear of DWD services: they
perpetuate the image of hospice as long-
form euthanasia—exactly the image
that hospice care has fought so hard to
But what about that other half of the
hospice mission—the part about pro-
viding comfort and peace at the end of
life? It’s understandable that hospices
wouldn’t exactly want to aunt DWD
any point in the process. And physician-
assisted death in Oregon is just that:
assisted. While a physician writes the
prescription, the patient must give the
lethal dose of medication to him/herself.
And, of course, the patient must be ter-
minally ill, with a prognosis of less than
six months to live.
e six-month rule is also a common
metric for hospices; in order to receive
palliative care (read: pain-management,
focus on quality of life) insurers require
a patient to sign o on the fact that they
have less than six months to live, and
that they willingly forgo curative treat-
ments in favor of hospice care. From that
point, according to the Oregon State
study, hospice credos generally seek “to
neither hasten nor postpone death.”
e goal for a hospice worker is to help
patients be comfortable and peaceful
during their last months and to make
sure that the patient is able to live out
the rest of their daily life as unencum-
bered as possible. And this is where the
conict comes in for Oregon hospices:
DWD may fulll one of these goals, but
it clearly conicts with the other. Phy-
sician-assisted death may be a patient’s
wish for comfort and peace, but it clearly
hastens death—an idea that a majority
of Oregon hospices simply cannot get on
board with.
ere are legal reasons for hospices to
shy away from DWD services: according
to the law, doctors are the only health
professionals allowed to sign o on a
physician-assisted death, and most hos-
pice workers are nurses or home health
aides. But if the obstacle to providing
ast week, a study
released by Oregon
State University
found that a major-
ity of hospice pro-
grams in Oregon
have little or no
participation in Death With Dignity—
the Oregon law that allows terminally ill
patients to end their own lives through
a procedure called physician-assisted
death. Of the 56 hospices surveyed
(which account for 86% of all hospice
programs in Oregon), one quarter do not
participate at all, and 27% simply refer
interested patients to an attending phy-
sician without oering any further in-
formation. Hospices are a major source
of care for terminally ill patients nation-
wide, and a key mechanism in ensuring
that the Death With Dignity (DWD) pol-
icies are carried out responsibly in Or-
egon, one of just three states where phy-
sician-assisted death is legal. (e other
two are Washington and Montana.) If
Oregon hospices shy away from this type
of care, the fear is that patients might
not have reliable information about, or
access to, physician-assisted death.
Oregon was the rst state to legalize
this form of assisted suicide, and the
state’s Death With Dignity Act—rst
passed in 1994—has weathered some
intense opposition since its inception.
A legal injunction prevented the imple-
mentation of the law until 1997. en,
just a month after the injunction was
lifted, the state legislature tried to repeal
the Act, only to have Oregon voters block
the move 60-40. DWD took a hit again
in a 2006 Supreme Court case, when
the Bush Administration challenged
Oregon’s right to dispense federally-
regulated substances during physician-
assisted death. But the law stands, and
terminally ill Oregon residents are now
allowed to “end their own life through
the voluntary self-administration of le-
thal medications.”
is, of course, comes with restric-
tions—some say too many, some say
not enough. e patient must be an
adult and an Oregon resident. ey must
submit a written request to their doctor
(signed by two witnesses) for a prescrip-
tion, followed by two spoken requests
at least 15 days apart. Any doctor, phar-
macist, or healthcare worker in Oregon
has the right to refuse to participate at
services because of the conict with “has-
tening death,” but don’t they also have a
duty to provide access and resources to
patients who choose physician-assisted
death as their most comfortable and
peaceful option? Apparently not—ac-
cording to last week’s report, not only
do most Oregon hospices refuse to pro-
vide doctors or medication, but a quar-
ter of them oer no information about
DWD at all, and many prohibit hospice
sta members to even be present during
a physician-assisted death, even if the
assisting doctor is una liated with the
hospice and the patient is self-adminis-
tering the medication.
is issue wouldn’t be nearly as press-
ing (or worthy of study), if there were
multiple access points for DWD services.
But as it stands, in Oregon, hospices are
pretty much it: over the past two years,
95% patients who requested DWD ser-
vices were also enrolled in a hospice
when they did so. is reveals two im-
portant trends, according to the Oregon
State study: on one hand, this is a good
thing—those who need it the most (ter-
minally ill patients with less than six
months to live) are getting palliative
care. However, this also makes clear that
if hospices don’t provide information
about DWD to the terminally ill popula-
tion in Oregon, it’s unlikely that anyone
else will.
KATIE DELANEY B’11 hastens noth-
ing and postpones everything.
FtonitNo rou Denin
by Katie Delaney
Illustration by Kah Yangni
hen the dust settled several hours after the mine caved
in upon them, 33 Chilean copper miners began their
murky ascent up the emergency ladder in a ventilation
shaft that they expected would lead them to the surface
about half a mile above. ey only got a third of the way
up. e mine owners had never bothered to nish the ladder. After being entombed
in a safety shaft the size of a small apartment for 17 days, while rationing two days’
worth of food, the miners were nally able to attach a message to the end of a small
probing drill sent by rescuers that they were all alive and in relatively good health.
Both the miners and their rescuers were elated by their discovery, but they quickly
realized that it could take up to four months to bring the men to the surface; addi-
tionally, the miners would have to aid their own rescue—clearing up to 4,000 tons
of rock that will fall as the rescue hole is drilled. Meanwhile, their only access to
food, medicine, and communication with the outside world is through three small
holes, and they have almost zero exposure to natural light. e immense psychologi-
cal toll they are bound to experience is akin to that of astronauts or Arctic explor-
ers—except that these miners did not choose to be so dramatically cut o from the
natural world.
Media outlets across the globe quickly discovered the public’s insatiable appetite
for this story. e miners exhibit a compelling portrayal of human behavior and
interaction under extreme stress and isolation. ey have established a hierarchical
leadership, a procedure for rationing food and eating together, as well as a “buddy”
system to insure each man’s psychological health. ey have developed a rhythm to
their daily life as they wait for a rescue that may not come until Christmas. One, an
electrician, rigged up a lighting system to create the semblance of day and night.
Another travels through the tunnels and caverns monitoring levels of oxygen and
carbon dioxide. e group also appointed a pastor to conduct daily religious services
and an o cial cameraman and historian. ey also designated one of their number
to be the group’s o cial poet, whose missives have become widely read throughout
the world.
e surrounding media spectacle has also shifted the storyline, soap opera-like,
from the problems facing the miners to intimate details of their personal lives. On
September 10, newspapers were abuzz with the news that both the wife and mis-
tress of one of the miners were awaiting his rescue at the surface. Two miners have
already asked their longtime girlfriends to marry them, and the story that some of
the miners were sent nicotine patches to prevent withdrawal was covered across the
Not surprisingly, there is already a lm in the making. e director, Rodrigo Or-
tuzar, has already come up with a poster for the movie, which he has titled “e
33,” featuring a lone miner walking down a gloomy tunnel toward a distant patch of
light, under the caption, “based on a true story.” “We have to wait for the ending, but
what is happening up to now is incredible… We’ve got a great opportunity to create
and develop a script during that time [the three to four months it will take to extract
the miners],” an excited Ortuzar told reporters. While Ortuzar’s characterization of
being trapped in a 1,000 square foot pitch-black hole for four months with thirty-
two other increasingly grumpy men as a “great opportunity” is a bit insensitive, he
is not wrong in his assertion. It is, all too obviously, “great” movie material.
e Chilean media response seems to be following in the footsteps of another,
modern-day South American legend. In October 1972, an airplane carrying the
Uruguayan rugby team crashed into the snow-covered Andes. Only sixteen people
survived after over two months of desperate isolation. With no winter clothes and
very little food, the group tried to eat strips of cloth torn from pieces of luggage and
the airplane seats. After days of scouring the fuselage in search of any kind of edible
morsel, they came to the collective decision to eat the bodies of their already dead
friends and relatives. e choice to eat human esh was all that kept them alive;
some of the survivors equated the act of cannibalism to the ritual of Holy Commu-
nion. eir story became a global phenomenon, inspiring several books and three
movies. One of the survivors made a bid for the Uruguayan presidency in 1994 and
another is a motivational speaker.
However, the media furor disturbed many of the survivors, who felt that it cheap-
ened and sensationalized their harrowing experience. Nando Parrado wrote in his
book, Miracle in the Andes: 72 Days on the Mountain and My Long Trek Home, “Our
survival had become a matter of national pride. Our ordeal was being celebrated as a
glorious adventure… I didn’t know how to explain to them that there was no glory in
those mountains. It was all ugliness and fear and desperation, and the obscenity of
watching so many innocent people die.”
Four of the Uruguayan crash survivors visited the site of the trapped Chilean min-
ers to oer their support. One of the Uruguayans said that the Chilean story is “simi-
lar to ours” but “more beautiful because they are all alive.”
is is not the rst mine disaster in recent years to inspire a lm. In 2002, nine
miners in Somerset County, Pennsylvania were trapped in a ooding shaft for over
78 hours before they were nally rescued. ere were talks to turn the story into
a TV miniseries, but the plans soured after disputes over the lucrative movie deal.
e “Quecreek Mine Incident” turned the media spotlight onto Somerset County—
Quecreek was also only a few miles from the United Flight 93 crash site. Newspapers
dubbed Somerset “America’s county.” At a back-to-back memorial service this July at
the scenes of the September 11 crash and the subterranean drama, U.S. Representa-
tive Mark Critz (D-Pennsylvania) said, “I guess the saving of the nine miners was
rea rming that we’re in this together, and when we pull together, great things can
happen.” e story of the miners took on a symbolic meaning—they became an icon
of national pride, and a sort of “proof” that Americans will persevere if they work

e mining story has turned into an easy nationalist support beam. Chileans quickly
picked up the success of nding the miners as a success for Chile. Chilean president
Sebastian Pinera’s approval rating has risen from 46 to 56 percent, and the coun-
try’s morale has risen since its devastating earthquake in February. “ey have found
them alive and that is an achievement for all of the country, not just for the presi-
dent or his government but for the whole country,” says Maria Cecilia Sandoval, a
homemaker from a beach resort near Santiago. People want to believe that this type
of spirit exists in themselves. e miners displaying resilience and teamwork act as a
representation of the country as a whole.
What is so disturbing and compelling about the trapped miners is the sheer
amount of time they will spend underground with nothing to occupy themselves
except each other. ere is a cultural fascination with isolation and connement, as
well as an interest in the forced emergence of a community in such an extreme en-
vironment. NASA—in order to psychologically prepare their astronauts for space—
has conducted decades-long studies of researchers in the Arctic, who for six months
of the year live in total isolation with no access to sunlight or any goods from the out-
side world. Observing how these men cope with nothing but the company of other
men brings into question how human order is maintained. So far, like in prisons, the
men have upheld a sense of order by creating a semblance of society.
It would be nice to believe that the sense of unity and organization from working
together is the end of the story, but in fact, it is more complicated than that. NASA
advised the Chilean rescue mission that getting the miners to the surface was only
one step in the process of their reintegration into society. For better or for worse,
these isolation situations are not the real world. When Jerri Nielsen, a doctor who
spent six months at the South Pole chronicled in the book Ice Bound, wrote to her
family from the Arctic, she said, “It is hard to doubt yourself here; you’d die. I love it
here so much that I don’t ever want to leave. I don’t belong in the world, never have.”
Like space travelers on a dark planet, the miners and South Pole explorers lose their
sense of time. NASA studies have shown that in many cases, the pressure of conne-
ment and proximity to others cause people to displace their stress onto those on the
“outside,” who cannot possibly begin to understand their experience.
Maybe our fascination with the miners is an expression of a harbored desire to be
forcibly isolated, to experience reality on the most basic of levels. Surviving in con-
nement provides an intensity of living that cannot be replicated in a world where
concerns are considerably more complicated. e Chilean miner-cum-poet, Victor
Zamora, wrote to his mother that he feels as if he is “born again” because of the
weeks-long ordeal. He writes, “under the earth there is a ray of light, my path, and
faith is the last thing I have lost…” But of course, he still has ten weeks left.
KATE WELSH B’12 thinks you should check out the stacks in the basement of the
MtNeus, Meotn,
by Kate Welsh
by Alice Hines
by John Fisher
Design by
Emily Fishman
Rhode Island Mall
troll through Warwick’s Rhode Island Mall and nd yourself in an
alternate, post-apocalyptic universe. e once-bustling stores, 60
in all, are dark and sealed o by metal grates. In the empty hall-
ways, you hear nothing but the click of your own shoes and the
hum of the air conditioning system, barely concealed by the still
bubbling fountain in the center of the mall. e signs and block
letters that once lured shoppers still hang above the empty sock-
ets, like tattoos from a past life.
Save for a group of elderly mall walkers, a cleaning lady pushing a mop cart, and
the lone clerks at the counters of the ve remaining stores—Lens Crafters, First
Place Sports, GNC, H&R Block, and the Toy Vault—the mall is completely empty. e
door to the western anchor, the still- operating Sears, is deserted, while the door that
once opened into the eastern anchor has been closed all together. e space remains
oddly well-maintained, as if human life had been wiped out by a sudden plague.
e Rhode Island Mall is ocially a “dead mall,” or a mall with such a high vacancy
rates that it is in danger of being abandoned or demolished, not to mention forgot-
ten by the shoppers who once slurped milkshakes at the Newport Creamery and pur-
chased winter furs at G.Fox. When the mall was built in 1967 as the Midland Mall, it
was the rst modern indoor shopping center in Rhode Island, with two stories and
around 40 stores. In 1984, when it became the Rhode Island Mall, a glass elevator, a
fountain courtyard, and a food court were added.
Frank Silva, the owner of First Place Sports, remembers what the mall was like in
the late ’80s and early ’90s. “It was really busy. Everyone knew each other. We used
to all look forward to going on breaks to Papa Gino’s.” Today, Silva’s store is bordered
by empty shops, and most of the time he brings his lunch. “Everyone has moved on,”
he says. “I seem to be the only one that didn’t.”
Despite the loss of foot trac, Silva’s business is surviving. Most of his sales come
from loyal customers who come to his store looking for a particular team that chain
stores don’t carry. ough he thinks he could be doing better somewhere else, Silva
likcs whcrc hc is. ¨ɥcrc's a loL oí mcmorics, and you gcL uscd Lo whcrc you arc. You
don’t want to change.” Silva bets he’ll be the last one to go. “ey’ll probably have to
kick me out,” he says with a chuckle.
ere are no shoppers in sight, but the mall employs a full time security force,
who apparently have been told to look out for reporters. While talking to some mall-
goers, I was approached by a security ocer and asked “if there was any interview-
ing going on.” I was told that no stories could be written on the mall or interviews
conducted without the permission of the management. e management would not
return phone calls. However, owners like Silva were happy to talk about the mall, and
about the strange circumstances leading to its death.
How does a mall go from 60 stores to four in a little over a decade? One answer is
competition with the neighboring Warwick Mall, which is open despite the ooding
earlier this year. e Warwick Mall was built in 1972, not long after the Midland
Mall, and for the two decades that followed the malls did not threaten one another.
en, in the mid ’90s, the Rhode Island Mall changed ownership several times. It
lost a major department store, G.Fox, when the store merged with Filene’s. By 1998,
twenty of the 97 stores were vacant according to an article in the
which speculated that the mall had perhaps become too dated to interest shoppers.
In 2000, when Walmart announced plans to build a store in Filene’s old space,
owners hoped that the mall would recover with an inux of trac from Walmart.
But when Walmart opened on January 23, 2002, its door to the main mall space was
sealed. Assistant store manager Allan Hale says that the original store blueprints
included double doors opening into the mall, which were never put in during con
Chris Buchanan, Walmart’s Senior Manager of Public Aairs, said in an email that
he has tried to investigate why the doors were sealed without luck. Silva said that he
and other store owners believe that neither Walmart nor the owners ever pushed for
it. It is not uncommon for still-thriving anchor stores, like Walmart, to seal them
selves o from dead mall space, like the anchors at the Assembly Square Mall of
Somcrvillc, MA or Lhc Sourcc Mall in WcsLbury, NY.
In December 2003, Stop & Shop signed a lease with the Rhode Island Mall for
its central mall space. Immediately after, all the other store owners in the mall were
made to sign new, 30-day contracts, which stipulated that they could be evicted from
the mall within a month if Stop & Shop went forth with development. “I had no
oLhcr choicc," Frank says. ¨I kncw Lhcrc was no sLabiliLy. You ciLhcr did iL or you lcíL."
Many of the larger chain stores did choose to leave when the management pro
posed the new leases. Champ’s Sporting Goods, FootLocker, and Auntie Annie’s all
waited for their old leases to expire and then packed up. In 2005, the Rhode Island
Mall was already listed on, a website that documents dead and dying
malls across America.
Stop & Shop has yet to put its space to use. And in 2007, it opened up another
location less than a mile away from the Rhode Island Mall, on Greenwich Avenue.
e most logical explanation for this, and the one accepted by most store owners, is
that Stop & Shop is keeping their lease and paying rent on the empty stores in order
to block competition, Walmart in particular, from expanding into the mall.
Walmart could use the space to expand into a “supercenter” with groceries, a
move that could pose serious competition to Rhode Island Stop & Shops. Walmart
is in the process of aggressively courting the New England grocery market. As
Boston Globe reported in 2009, the chain had taken away three percent of retail food
sales in New England ($1 billion) from grocers in the past ve years.

Rhode Island Mall
How does a mall go from 60 stores to four in a little over a decade? One answer is
competition with the neighboring Warwick Mall, which is open despite the ooding
earlier this year. e Warwick Mall was built in 1972, not long after the Midland
Mall, and for the two decades that followed the malls did not threaten one another.
en, in the mid ’90s, the Rhode Island Mall changed ownership several times. It
lost a major department store, G.Fox, when the store merged with Filene’s. By 1998,
twenty of the 97 stores were vacant according to an article in the Providence Journal,
which speculated that the mall had perhaps become too dated to interest shoppers.
In 2000, when Walmart announced plans to build a store in Filene’s old space,
owners hoped that the mall would recover with an inux of trac from Walmart.
But when Walmart opened on January 23, 2002, its door to the main mall space was
sealed. Assistant store manager Allan Hale says that the original store blueprints
included double doors opening into the mall, which were never put in during con-
Chris Buchanan, Walmart’s Senior Manager of Public Aairs, said in an email that
he has tried to investigate why the doors were sealed without luck. Silva said that he
and other store owners believe that neither Walmart nor the owners ever pushed for
it. It is not uncommon for still-thriving anchor stores, like Walmart, to seal them-
selves o from dead mall space, like the anchors at the Assembly Square Mall of
Somcrvillc, MA or Lhc Sourcc Mall in WcsLbury, NY.
In December 2003, Stop & Shop signed a lease with the Rhode Island Mall for
its central mall space. Immediately after, all the other store owners in the mall were
made to sign new, 30-day contracts, which stipulated that they could be evicted from
the mall within a month if Stop & Shop went forth with development. “I had no
oLhcr choicc," Frank says. ¨I kncw Lhcrc was no sLabiliLy. You ciLhcr did iL or you lcíL."
Many of the larger chain stores did choose to leave when the management pro-
posed the new leases. Champ’s Sporting Goods, FootLocker, and Auntie Annie’s all
waited for their old leases to expire and then packed up. In 2005, the Rhode Island
Mall was already listed on, a website that documents dead and dying
malls across America.
Stop & Shop has yet to put its space to use. And in 2007, it opened up another
location less than a mile away from the Rhode Island Mall, on Greenwich Avenue.
e most logical explanation for this, and the one accepted by most store owners, is
that Stop & Shop is keeping their lease and paying rent on the empty stores in order
to block competition, Walmart in particular, from expanding into the mall.
Walmart could use the space to expand into a “supercenter” with groceries, a
move that could pose serious competition to Rhode Island Stop & Shops. Walmart
is in the process of aggressively courting the New England grocery market. As e
Boston Globe reported in 2009, the chain had taken away three percent of retail food
sales in New England ($1 billion) from grocers in the past ve years.
Buchanan, the Senior Manager of Public Aairs at Walmart, conrmed that Stop
& Shop had purchased a deed restriction from the previous owners “to prevent
Walmart from expanding into the interior of the mall.” Warwick Tax Assessor Ken
Mallette said that the only reason Stop & Shop had leased the space in the rst place
was to block Walmart, and that it had never actually been interested in a store op-
portunity. “It’s always been a competitive thing,” he said.
e details of Stop & Shop’s lease—how much the company is paying and how
long it will occupy the mall—remain unknown. Mallette says that the company nev-
er led any records with the city of Warwick, not even building permit applications
or a certicate of occupancy, as is usually done with long, commercial leases.
Stop & Shop press representative Faith Wiener conrmed that the chain was still
leasing the space, but wouldn’t comment on for how long, or for what purpose. She
said that Stop & Shop was still “evaluating its options” for the space.
In the meantime, no new tenants have been allowed to move in. When the War-
wick mall was submerged in last year’s oods, the Rhode Island Mall was spared.
Immediately following the ood, several tenants, including Anthony and Ruby De-
Fusco, owners of the collectibles store Bear Village, called the management of the
Rhode Island Mall asking about leases. ey were turned away.
“e manager said that they were only interested in corporate stores,” Anthony
DcFusco said. YcL DcFusco also knows oí scvcral Warwick Mall corporaLc sLorcs LhaL
approached management, and were also turned away. “If [the management] had
wanted to, after the ood, they could have lled half the mall up. No question,” De-
Fusco said.
DeFusco thinks the problem is that the mall management has no nancial incen-
tive to look for new tenants. He says a managing company will not try to ll a space
with tenants if they are being paid by the owner as if tenants already exist. Both the
owner of the mall, the German investment company GLL, and its local manager Da-
vid Graham for Eastern Development, declined to comment for this article.
Both Silva and DeFusco wish that the government would take a look at the mall’s
situation. “It’s weird that the governor and the mayor let Stop & Shop lease the prop-
erty and take the easy way out. ere could be so many more jobs here,” said Silva.
DeFusco agrees. “I dont think Stop & Shop should be allowed to cripple a piece of
real estate,” he said.
Warwick Planning Ocial Rick Crenca, a principal planner who has worked in
the department since 1977, was unaware of the Stop & Shop lease. While the city
“obviously would not like to see the mall empty,” he says, there is nothing any gov-
ernment oce can do to ll empty retail spots other than recommending them to
retailers who already want to move to the area. What happens between a tenant and
an owner, he noted, is a legally binding agreement, adding “we couldn’t do anything.”
ere is a strange irony to this corporate tug of war: Stop & Shop is probably the
only reason why a store like Silva’s remains where it is. It has now been almost seven
years that Stop & Shop has paid to keep the mall empty and running, and during this
time, the local businesses who agreed to 30-day leases have been able to remain in
their spaces. If the rent on the empty stores was not being paid as if they were occu-
pied, it is doubtful the mall would still exist. Most likely, it would already have been
demolished or repurposed as a big-box store—maybe even a Walmart.
Silva and the other owners, powerless in the face of corporate deadlock, remain
on 30 day leases, awaiting the inevitable death of the mall. In the current situation,
it is dicult to imagine anything changing. e most recent development at the mall
was the DMV relocating to Cranston on August 7, 2010 to consolidate oces. Frank
is worried; the DMV always brought a few customers to his store while they waited
their turn.
DeFusco, who recently took a look inside the mall when visiting Sears for a pair of
shoes, was shocked to see what the mall looked like now. “It’s like you’re in a movie;
it’s become an eerie place.”
ALICE HINES B’11 could have lled half the mall up. No question.
You arc vcry rcccpLivc Lo changcs in your
artistic work this September, but rst you
need to change your lifestyle. e stars have
prescribed an all-vegetable juice detox this
month. Come October, you can and will in-
dulge all the partying you want. is psychic
predicts that many performances at Ol-
neyville Warehouses and the RISD Tap room
the weeks before Halloween will get your
passion for the lush life reignited. No mint
juleps, though, for they are the color of envy.
Which brings me to my next point: some-
body is trying to destroy you out of jealousy
starting in November. Watch out, check be-
hind your shower curtains, and screen unsus-
pecting emails for viruses. Don’t be afraid to
unleash your inner demon on the perpetra-
tor. It looks cute on you. [note to self: involve
Mark Tribe]

Fall Horoscopes:
by Princessa Jones
Illustrations by Hannah
Plotke and Alexandra

Congratulations on getting to fashion week!
From small town to big city, you have come
very far this summer. But careful! e city is
not for the faint of heart, and there are sinners
‘round every corner. Come fall in the gritty
city, you will experience productivity, creation
and rebirth. Consider taking an apparel or in-
terior design class with RISD Continuing Edu-
cation to direct that energy towards bettering
your life. In November, you must stop being so
sensitive and get over it. In December, you’ll
realize you can do much better.
DaLing a hoL surgcon in Ncw York` ɥoughL
so! Just remember–life imitates Grey’s Anat-
omy, and his or her coworkers are always “on
call” if you know what I mean. In November,
avoid getting onto subways and eating at
Subway, for you are accident-prone during
this moon-cycle. Instead, stay local and walk
over to Fire House 13 for an art opening or
concert. In December, thankfully, your life
Lakcs a Lurn íor Lhc bcLLcr. Your clumsincss
turns to grace and you become the new Provi-
dence Roller Derby recruit.

ough you don’t even care, you’re going to
be super popular starting in the month of
September. If you’re an artist or performer,
fame is possible now. Keep in mind, though,
it’s all about who you do—your success is
tied to relationships. It is super tempting to
pop a pompous person’s balloon with a sharp
little detail, but beware of his or her network-
ing abiliLics. You do wanL Lo gcL in wiLh Iady
Gaga when you and she attend the RISD
Exposé gallery opening November 20, don’t
you? Lastly, in December, avoid all interac-
tion with snow.
You'rc on Lhc vcrgc oí Lhc mosL inLcnsc rcla-
tionship period of your life, and it involves a
barista at Coee Exchange. Go see the docu-
mentary on Jean-Michel Basquiat (“e Ra-
diant Child”) at the Cable Car this month for
your birthday. Discuss over drinks with your
new babe to decide if your interests align as
well as your passionate stars have. In Octo-
ber, don’t be a irt. A friend thinks you’re
macking on their honey. In November, you’ll
rely a little bit too much on WebMD and avoid
the doctor. Even if a visit to the clinic proves
nothing, it is important to calm your nerves.
And if this psychic knows one thing, it’s this:
only take advice from a professional.
Your íall sLarLs ouL uncvcnLíully, buL lcL's gcL
real. is should be a welcome change, you
Scorpio rogue. Channel your intense natural
energy into yourself rather than others. Take
a yoga at Eyes of the World, get your ducks in
order, and sleep in your bed alone. In October,
your boredom will make a romance come too
easily while standing outside AS220 after a
free printmaking workshop. Don’t lose sight
of your standards or your bike. In December,
you win awards. Congratulations.
You, you, you. You arc so sclí-obscsscd Lhis
early fall that all you’re able to talk about is a
new obsession with a musical instrument or
arty dalliance. Take it down a notch for your
roommates’ sake. And perhaps go see the
giant Moon sculpture in the Tristan Lowe
exhibition at the RISD Museum to cut your
ambitious ego down to size. In November, oh
baby—children are in your star chart. Deal
ASAP or else some major life changes are on
the horizon.
September brings a surge of new people, and
you have them all under your thumb. Later
in the fall, you’ll start to resemble a Martha
Stewart catalogue—surrounded by pump-
kins, apple cider, snuggling and Halloween
cosLumcs. Don'L lic. You lovc iL. CcL Lhcrapy
in November, and don’t resort to junk food
and clubbing. Approach love as you always
do, with an open mind but a protected heart,
and you might arouse an interest at Live Bait
at the Perishable eater.

You'rc noL rcady íor Lhc summcr Lo bc ovcr,
am I right? But don’t you worry. ings will
continue to be rosy as long as you stay hum-
blc. Your passion in lovc and music LhaL ßour-
ished this summer will culminate at a karaoke
night (try Muldowney’s or Hot Club). Unfor-
tunately, this psychic must say that no one —
neither your lover nor the crowd—will enjoy
your rendition of “Lovefool.” Broken hearted,
you really do become a love fool.Look for a
part-time job to ease your broken heart in
OcLobcr. You'll gcL onc sLyling Lhc TargcL
window display if you play your cards right.
Finally, you’ll be back to your social-buttery
self in November, Pisces. is psychic pre-
dicts you meet a moody Gemini who will con-
fuse you with drunk texts. If you play hard to
get, his or her heart will be yours.
You'vc goL a loL oí chuLzpah Lhis íall. Don'L
let it go to waste, because this psychic sees
you sassing up Providence in a big way this
September. It’s time to meet lots of new
people and show o your bronco spirit. Go
gallery hopping on ursday nights (perhaps
at the Providence Art Club?) to meet some
ncw íricnds. You'rc known íor always gcLLing
what you want, and this fall you’ll get all the
‘inspiration’ you want from your friends’ un-
patented ideas. In October, Halloween chal-
lenges a relationship—did you try to match
costumes from Savers? Big mistake. Get your
life in order this November, and get cautious
when a rival arises. On November 25, they
plan on putting gum in your hair when you
least suspect it. Don’t overreact, however.
You'rc bcLLcr oh smiling swccLly and sccrcLly
plotting your revenge.

You'rc acLing vcry nccdy and boring Lhis
September. Let me give you some advice in
order to ensure a better October: 1. Stop call-
ing your friends to conrm things that they
don’t want to be a part of, and 2. Try to ex-
pand your culinary palette—dump the Chi-
nese take-out. Get o the couch, and show
the world how special you are. If you start
to open up your tastes, your mind will follow
and break out of your stubborn Taurus ways.
Havc you cvcr bccn Lo ɥc SLccl Yard` Finally
get over there to take a weekend workshop
in early November and you will realize how
crafty you can be out of the sack. In conclu-
sion, this psychic says: go chasing waterfalls
and don’t stick to the river and the lakes that
you’re used to.

Providence Arts Guide
You nccd Lo qucll somc bad habiLs lcíL ovcr
from summer. Firstly, stop spending all your
money at the Duck and Bunny. It’s out of
control. And secondly, you must remember
that the past couple months were re engine
red—you took lovers and broke hearts. But
you’re not a reghter, so don’t play with
ames anymore. In October, you’ll get wildly
social. Specically, you go a little Twitter-
crazy. In November, you will think you’re in
a game of Clue, because of all the mysterious
goings-on around you. Let me advise real in-
quiry — you are not imaging these signs! And
may this psychic also give you your rst lead:
check out a poetry reading at the New Urban
Arts Gallery on Westminster Street. For Ha-
nukkah, don’t forget to pamper your lover
with an unbridled amount of gifts. ey’re
worth it.

n November of 2008, a re-
print of a slim, obscure Japa-
nese photo book incompre-
hensibly titled Take Ivy sold
on eBay for over $1,400;
similar copies sold for near-
ly that much as they became
available. e book featured hazy, idyllic
photographs of early 1960s American
Ivy League life and Japanese text that,
to western eyes, only underscored the
mystery of it all. Published in Japan in
1965, Take Ivy was a fashion book based
on a series of photographs by the maga-
zine photographer Teruyoshi Hayashida.
It was intended as a guide for style-con-
scious young Japanese, for whom dress-
ing like upper class Americans repre-
sented a form of rebellion from post-war
starched white school uniforms. In that
spirit, Take Ivy included instructions for
assembling a wardrobe that wouldn’t be
out of place on College Hill in 1964. If it
seems strange that a recommendation to
own fourteen oxford cloth button-down
shirts could ever be construed as rebel-
lion, remember, times have changed.
In the years since 1965, the book be-
came a cult classic in certain American
menswear circles (hence those strato-
spheric eBay prices). Frank Muytjens
÷awardcd BcsL Young Dcsigncr by CO
for his work turning J. Crew into a mens-
wear juggernaut—has openly discussed
his obsession with the book. Mark Mc-
Nairy, the former Design Director of the
venerable clothing store J. Press (cloth-
ier to Bill Clinton and Bush the elder),
recently mentioned to e New York
Times that the book’s photographs were
an important design inspiration - that is,
until he needed funds to buy his wife a
new handbag and, seeing the high pric-
es commanded on eBay, gave in to the
temptation of quick cash.
e hype surrounding the book was
propelled in recent years by the Inter-
net, culminating when John Tinseth of
the blog e Trad scanned a copy he had
purchased through a Japanese proxy
and posted the book’s contents in full.
ough this did much to break down
the mystique of the book, physical cop-
ies of Take Ivy still only appeared on the
bookshelves of a clothing
obsessed, deep-pocketed
cult. But this is the case no
longer: noticing the on-
line hype, powerHouse,
a small Ncw York pub-
lisher of art and fashion
books, purchased its
publication rights and
oversaw its translation i n t o
English. e rst print run sold out even
before the o cial release, and as of Sep-
tember 1, 2010 Take Ivy is available for
$25 from American bookstores or as an
“accessory” from J. Crew.
e clothing presented has a distinct
appeal to a contemporary reader with
any interest in what is now called “classic
collegiate” style. It’s a mélange of tweedy
American and postwar casual: plaid
shorts with brown loafers and white
tube socks, tweed blazers paired with
high-water khaki pants. e students
wear their Sunday best with a certain
sloppy charm and look ready for a sail on
rainy days. It’s “preppy” before that word
came to entail pink and green polka dots
and equestrian themed shirt logos. It
might be the quality of the photography,
but I’ve never seen a plain grey Brown
sweatshirt look so dashing.
e recently translated text is not as
dazzling as the photographs; when the
writers visited Brown, they note that
“the green grass of the school grounds
glistens.” eir observations regarding
crew practice are limited to “Training
is no bed of roses”. Indeed. However,
there’s something oddly charming about
the strange tone and vocabulary of the
translated Japanese: it emphasizes the
outsider status of the writers, and makes
the impenetrable ’60s campus style
somehow more accessible. Many of the
style cues present in the book—ties left
lightly askew, loafers worn ratty rather
than shined, pants hemmed just a little
short—served to separate those in the
know from everyone else. e Japanese
authors dispense with this sort of pre-
tension by making note of even the most
mundane details: they marvel at the
sloppiness of the students, for example,
remarking that “wearing shoes without
socks is one such uncouth practice” com-
mon to Ivy Leaguers.
A comparison with the current state
of campus styles is tempting and in-
evitable. Here at Brown today there’s a
fashion-focused set that seems to have
taken the lessons of 1964 and run with
them (see: chunky glasses, ankle graz-
ing pants). is is an easy, but ultimately
incorrect comparison: Take Ivy
is con- cerned with
the av- e r a g e
rather than exceptional student, and
with a prevailing style rather than up-to-
the-minute fashion. ere were probably
beatniks in black turtlenecks smoking
cigarettes on Faunce steps in 1964, but
they’re nowhere to be found within the
book. While there isn’t really a mono-
lithic collegiate style these days, it’s hard
to argue that the ip ops, t-shirts, and
hoodies that abound on the contempo-
rary campus are aesthetically preferable
to the idealized vision of uniform “classic
collegiate” presented in Take Ivy. Frank-
ly, college looked better in 1964 than it
does today, if Take Ivy is your only refer-
As appealing as the o-kilter word-
ing and stylish photographs are, I’m left
uneasy considering the cultural implica-
tions of the book’s newfound popularity.
It shouldn’t come as any surprise that
you have to hunt to nd black faces, and
that women are only to be seen in the
role of archetypal girlfriend. e con-
temporary reader would be well served
to note their absence if nostalgia for the
“good old days” threatens to overwhelm.
Only the members of an elite group are
presented in Take Ivy; in this sense the
book is, like the most uninteresting
yacht-and-cocktail-with-sunset Tommy
Hilger ads, simply a fetishization of
money and privilege. Worse still, the
privileges of these students extend be-
yond class: these students represent the
country’s educational elite only through
exclusion on the basis of religion, race,
and gender. It’s tempting to argue that
Take Ivy is only admired on an aesthetic
basis, but the fact is, the aesthetics of
the book stem directly from the cultural
position of mid 1960s Ivy League colleg-
es. It is near impossible to parse appre-
ciation of the clothes of young rich white
men and adoration of
their culture. e fact
that these students
were the product of all manner of privi-
leges and exclusions underlies the most
mundane details of the book: it’s why
the blazers t perfectly, why the grass is
so green and why the library is perfectly
clean and still.
Even “classic collegiate,” the label ret-
roactively applied to the clothes high-
lighted in the book, is itself is a specious
description. Ivy League students only
dressed as described in the book for a
brief moment in the late 50s and early
60s. Before the postwar period, a self-
respecting student would have been
ashamed to come to class in short pants,
and in a matter of years, high-water
khakis, chunky glasses, and penny loaf-
ers had become tragically uncool, the
domain of poindexter stereotypes, not
the nation’s elite young men. In a man-
ner reminiscent of the cabaret in Weimar
Berlin or shootouts and train robberies
in the so-called Wild West, Ivy League
campuses in the early 60s have created
an aesthetic that is more powerful in
contemporary remembrance than cul-
tural import at the time.
e power of the aesthetic lies in its
ability to evoke simpler, more pure times:
clean cut Ivy Leaguers stylishly but un-
selfconsciously sporting classic fashions
made in the US seems to hit all the right
buttons, making Take Ivy a showcase of
authenticity. Contemporary popular
culture cries out for the authentic in the
face of ironic and short-lived trends: the
nostalgia unearthed by Take Ivy ts in
neatly next to the current popularity of
vinyl records, “craft” beer and local food.
But a second look reveals that the book
has a dubious case in that regard. It’s not
an anthropological study, but a guide to
help mimic the particular “Ivy” style of
the photographed students. It was cre-
ated by Japanese writers with
little stake in creating an au-
thentic and impartial account of
their subject. Even the object of
the recommended mimicry, the
’60s Ivy League, is itself a sort
of fantasy world: as we have
seen, it’s very shape was determined by
systematic manipulation based on class,
race, and gender.
A quick review of fantasy-
driven magazine ads and theatrical
fashion shows, however, reveals that
so much that is appealing in clothing
is in fact based on fantasy. ese fan-
tasies—in Take Ivy and otherwise—
often indulge in the unethical and
inauthentic. inking aesthetically
without considering its basis, may,
however, be unavoidable when dealing
with clothing; it would be quite a bur-
den to be forced to consider the cultur-
al implications of your attire in front of
the mirror every morning. In that case,
if the particular fantasy of Ivy League
authenticity is your thing, Take Ivy is
an excellent guide for determining how
many oxford cloth button-down shirts
it’s appropriate to own.

CHRIS COHEN B’64 is unavoidable
when dealing with clothing.
Tnxe vv
by Chris Cohen
Illustration by
Emily Fishman
he emergence of an
apocalyptic aesthetic
is society coping—or
rather, becoming one
with—the horrifying nature of world af-
fairs and its human remnants. e very
landscape we inhabit is crowded with
images of mass injustice, environmental
collapse, and a blurring of the human
face by technology. e context in which
we live and consume makes us complicit
in much of this violence. e societal
self today is both criminal and victim
from the moment in which one ceases
to dream each morning. Desperate at-
tempts to nd ourselves within this de-
structive maze often become symptoms
of an abhorrent consumerism that leaves
us even more out of touch than we were
at the outset (Eat, Pray, Love anyone?).
e radical form of art, in its aesthet-
ic potency, reinvents the contemporary
landscape and the way in which we in-
hale this toxic existence. Aesthetes, cu-
rators, designers, and the sentient global
audience are embracing work that is
documentary and exploratory of every-
day catastrophe. Berlin’s Biennale, which
closed last month, took that which is
terrorizing in the everyday and forced
it into the space of art. e aestheticiza-
tion of contemporary tragedy is at once
a form of rather unorthodox escapism
and yet a realism that is all too real. e
BP oil spill, class segregation, and state-
inicted terror are the subject matter for
artists that work with our own physical-
ity in fashion. Tragedy—an art form—is
deeply integrated into the cultural tapes-
try of our time.
I have more faith in conveying human
experience in its raw immediacy rather
than as a distanced factual phenom-
enon. Alternative channels and spaces
that allow for a sharing of events less re-
stricted to rational narratives or falsely
“grounded” explanations, as in the mass
news media, have potential for genuine
opcning. YcL, my apprcciaLion íor Lhc dc-
lineated art space was jolted into ques-
tion last month at the Berlin Biennale
upon stumbling into fresh coats of white
paint ooded with moving images of ee-
rily contemporary—that is to say, ongo-
e sixth Berlin Biennale entitled
what is waiting out there, asserts the
power of art to pull viewers further into
reality rather than providing any sense
of detached pleasure. Employing grossly
intrusive vantage points, the audience is
unable to distance themselves from the
real ongoing events that they are put in
contact with. In its documentary nature,
the Biennale
was dominated
by video works,
many of which
seemed dry at
rst glance. It
was clear that
there was little
curatorial inten-
tion to shock, nor
provide a source
of lazy pleasure
to the visitors.
Curator Kathrin
Rhomberg said
at a press confer-
ence that the in-
tention of much
of the all-too-real
imagery exhib-
ited is partially
to “disturb the
ed Western gaze.”
Much of the
non-ctional im-
agery demanded
immediate action
in light of the direness of the situation
portrayed. Avi Mograbi, an Israeli artist,
created Details 2 & 3, in which we experi-
ence a prolonged confrontational inter-
action between the artist and a group of
Israeli soldiers controlling a checkpoint
in the West Bank. Moments of the lm
are nauseating, particularly one instance
when several small children traveling
alone are prevented from crossing a path
that is homeward bound. In the fore-
ground, the soldiers react aggressively to
the lmmaker’s agitations and, in stay-
ing true to their duty, are blinded from
empathy, highlighting the hopeless na-
ture of the situation.
I felt downtrodden by the idea that
this institutional art setting is one of
very few in which such sentiment can
bc sharcd wiLh a widc audicncc. YcL,
the more time I spent roaming within
the works, the less I pegged preexisting
associations and political fervor to the
already rage-lled installations. I appre-
ciated that this piece was being experi-
enced in the context of the Biennale, a
space that fosters openness of percep-
tion and a tone far more radical than
genuinely possible within the realm of
direct politics.
Among the other videos shown was
Echo by Nir Evron, which breaks down
the overwhelming visual sensations
present in an environment of protest
and social distress. Archival images be-
come increas-
ingly pixilated
until we can
identify only
colors that still
retain their as-
sociation to a
more complex
image. Minerva
Cuevas’ Dis-
sidence invites
us to be hyper-
observant in
an impassioned
envi ronment
of individuals
collectively as-
serting their
humanity. Fea-
turing protest
footage shot in
Mexico, Cue-
vas’ lm is an
o ppor t uni t y
to experience
public artwork
of dissident
signs and mes-
saging. All that is Solid Melts Into Air by
Mark Boulous consists of two channels
on opposite sides of the space in which
two deeply implicated realities are con-
fronted. e sounds and sights of the
Niger Delta and at the Chicago Mer-
cantile Exchange come together for the
viewer making powerful unspoken con-
nections. Petrit Halilaj employed a large
defunct space to install rural structures
with an eerie hollowness surrounded by
live chickens. It was a desperate cry to
revert to an aesthetic that we have long
abandoned. e installation, e places
I’m looking for, my dear, are utopian places,
they are boring and I don’t know how to
make them real sets a tone of human-
ity’s self-defeat that is further developed
throughout the Biennale.
e Biennale had little to oer the
purely pleasure-seeking, empathetically
devoid audience; but part of its ecacy
lay in the biennale’s prestige and abil-
ity to draw such an audience nonethe-
less. e artworks tended to unravel, on
a primordial level, images that we have
otherwise been numbed to. e artist
does not manufacture beauty within
contemporary tragedy. Rather, the tragic
moment is, and the artist only makes it
visible to us in its aective materiality.
We are in a more open frame of mind, to
say the least, while seated on the oor of
a dilapidated department store before a
looped lm of IDF soldiers obstructing
a band of schoolchildren than we are
when tuned in to similar content during
a news broadcast. Neither fact nor lan-
guage is at stake in the space of art for
art’s sake—or in the context of the Bien-
nale, art for reality’s sake. Here we are
not presented with anything that feigns
to be all-encompassing or inclusive. We
are invited to enter into another’s con-
sciousness as an observant, feeling be-
ing. e emphasis in most of these works
is not placed on creative vision, but on
aective sight—when shared, a source
of genuine empathy.
e purposefully sterile ne art space
fosters a heightened sense of perception
and enables us to, at least temporarily,
abandon much cultural residue from the
exterior world. I do not by any means
gesture that art is restricted to its own
realm of galleries, openings, internation-
al biennials, or theoretically saturated
catalogs. e white-walled art museum,
however, reinforces the meditative, and
alienating quality in absorbing aesthetic
content. In an atmosphere of such radi-
cal openness, even conceptions of the
self are dismembered. Strolling past col-
ors in a museum, we fold away from our-
selves to become silent onlookers. We
are unraveled from the distractive com-
pulsion to act that pressures everyday
by Natasha
“Neither fact nor language is at stake
in the space of art for art’s sake – or
in the context of the Biennale, art for
reality’s sake.”
“I appreciated that
this piece was being
experienced in
the context of the
Biennale, a space that
fosters openness of
perception and a tone
far more radical than
genuinely possible
within the realm of
direct politics.”
ON Tunoeov
“Much of the criticism of Meisel’s work
points at the inf lammatory juxtaposition
of tragedy and high fashion, and ignores the
content of the images all-together.”
magini forti, fatte per colpire, e che raccon-
tano una realta.” Loosely translated: ese
shots by Steven Meisel have the value of
reportage and the impact of the artwork.
Powerful, striking images that tell a real-
e images integrate inventive corpo-
ral designs by contemporary artists in-
cluding Hussein Chalayan, Haider Acker-
mann, Ann Demeulemeester, and the late
Alexander McQueen that are seamless
against the backdrop of the tragedy. e
artist captures the visceral terror of such
an incident but showcases it alongside the
human capacity to arrive at a sort of aes-
thetic harmony within an atmosphere of
Much of the criticism of Meisel’s work
points at the inammatory juxtaposition
of tragedy and high fashion, and ignores
the content of the images all-together.
Allowing these works to speak for them-
selves, we witness of reinvention of space,
esh, and corporeal forms.
Gareth Pugh, a young British designer
who thrives on a dark sculptural aesthetic
that discovers a fertile joy amidst the toxic
ruins of the modern age. In an interview
with Alex Fury of SHOWstudio in May of
this year, Pugh acknowledged the trans-
formation in his designs: “I don’t think I
make things to compliment your lifestyle.”
tional nature of many works in the Bien-
nale does not allow the viewer to distance
himsclí. YcL, O'DohcrLy highlighLs wcll
the tension of art created with the intent
of sparking direct political action, for the
sonorous moment in which we experience
an artwork is a timeless one.
e ongoing nature of tragedy prevents its
presence in artistic spheres from being ca-
thartic. It is a timeless visualization of ter-
ror that gains some semblance of continu-
ity in how it impacts our ability to digest
experience. Tragedy, as an envisioned and
embraced aesthetic, seeps out of the ne
art space to radically shift the contempo-
rary landscape.
Steven Meisel’s most recent contro-
versy appearing in Vogue Italia discovers
beauty, or perhaps simply respite, in dev-
astation. Meisel shot an editorial explic-
itly stated to confront the attempts to
conceal imagery of the BP oil spill in the
Gulf of Mexico. e initial explosion in
April killed 11 workers and injured many
more. At the outset, the editors of Vogue
Italia share their intentions behind pub-
lishing this controversially received piece,
“Gli scatti di Steven Meisel hanno la valenza
del reportage e l’impatto dell’opera d’arte. Im-
Rather, Pugh invents new forms of the
human species based on shifting circum-
stances. He has abandoned the traditional
catwalk show and encased his two latest
collections in tragically alluring videos,
the last of which is a dark treatise on plea-
sure entitled Joie de Vivre (by Ruth Hog-
ben, Placing the un-
nervingly real in the context of art creates
a necessary tension in how we experience
our own physicality within this world.
Realism in contemporary art, more
so than art which is explicitly escapist,
is the target of social and humanitarian
criLicism and conLrovcrsy. YcL, Lragcdy÷
a most real phenomenon—demands to
be the subject matter of contemporary
art and of our contemplation. It is the
unbounded nature of art that lends form
and human spirit to our age—instigating
revolution from the primordial to the po-
NATASHA PRADHAN ’12 is in mourn-
ON Tunoeov
photo by Steven Meisel in “Water & Oil”
for Vogue Italia, August 2010.
interaction and are free as human beings
to observe.
Although the content before us in a
gallery may certainly have relevance in
other realms, the explicitly artistic set-
ting inspires a hiatus from the saturated
toxicity of everyday life and an opening
to the raw experience of cringes, colors,
waves, beats. Without the tension of an
impending action that constrains us to a
pre-existing, socially dened identity, we
can genuinely reinvent ourselves in rela-
tion to what is being experienced in such
a space. e revolutionary capacity of the
artwork is here—in its potential to jolt
somebody out of his past self in a way that
is not contingent on a shared historical
consciousness or language.
is sort of aesthetic revolution is ten-
uous when juxtaposed with a more linear
conception of change. Brian O’Doherty,
a prominent creator and thinker of the
l060s Ncw York arL sccnc wroLc in his cs-
say “Inside the White Cube: e Ideology
of the Gallery Space,” 1976: “Art exists in
a kind of eternity of display. is eternity
gives the gallery a limbolike status; one
has to have died already to be there. In-
deed the presence of that odd piece of fur-
niture, your own body, seems superuous,
an intrusion.”
Is there an equilibrium between being
so open to and lost in the artwork that
one loses ties with rational continuity,
and maintaining the contextual self pos-
sessive of time and action? e confronta-
Bncx ruom ine Wnu
My older brother returned from his
yearlong tour in Iraq in the middle of a
cold April night last year. I waited with
his wife and my family for the plane to
arrive with a sign that read, “Welcome
home Gabe!” We were so excited to see
him after such a long and stressful sepa-
ration. When he nally arrived with the
rest of the soldiers, we couldn’t even pick
him out of the crowd. ey all looked the
same. We were only able to recognize
him when he walked past us. He shot us
a smile and continued on with the group.
We waited as they went through their
Army rituals inside while we sat with
other anxious families on the bleachers.
When he was nally able to leave forma-
tion, he came over to us seeming happy,
but very subdued. He gave us half hugs
and barely spoke. He has always been re-
served, but it was di cult to see him so
disinterested when we were so enthusi-
astic to have him back. His eyes lacked
passion. He was indierent, unrespon-
sive, and jaded.
I was so upset to hear that he decided
to deploy again in February of this year,
this time to Afghanistan. When I asked
him why he keeps volunteering, his re-
sponse was simple: “So I can get paid
more and get promoted.” I know that he
would have been deployed anyway and
that volunteering rather than waiting for
orders to be deployed means more mon-
ey. I understand the strategy, but volun-
teering twice in such a short span of time
and under such dangerous circumstances
is hard Ior me to accept. His oIfcers call
him ambitious and brave. They write let-
ters to my parents praising his hard work
every so often. He is a sergeant now at
the age of 22 and is working to become
an oIfcer. But at what expense does his
success in the military come?
BeIore Gabe left for the second time,
and even for a while after he arrived in
Afghanistan, he didn’t know where he
would be going or what he would be do-
ing. When he fnally Iound out what his
job was, he was not allowed to tell us
anything about it. All we knew was that
he was following the orders given to him.
By whom. we didn`t know. For what
purpose, we didn’t know. We were not
allowed to know. It is common practice
for the Army to keep their soldiers as un-
informed as possible. They wait until the
very last moment to tell them what they
will be doing or where they will be going.
This has been the case Ior Gabe since he
joined the military about four years ago.
The military creates ambitious sol-
diers who want to go to war to increase
their rank and make more money. It
makes pawns into knights, knights into
bishops. bishops into kings. But the rise
in status does not change the fact that
they are simply obedient pieces in a game
that is not their own—a game between
governments, countries, rulers, parties
unrelated to the lives of the soldiers at
stake. We don`t know what they`re fght-
ing for. We’re not allowed to know and
neither are they. They are frmly con-
trolled. They don’t know where they’re
going until they arrive. They don’t know
what they’re doing until they do it. They
are living in bad Iaith as existential crimi-
nals—abandoning their freedom by ac-
cepting the absolute control of their su-
periors, avoiding responsibility by hiding
behind orders. They are doing exactly
what they are supposed to be doing.
I’m told that this argument is empty.
How else can the military operate? How
can any kind of order be maintained if the
knowledge of the military’s operations
were known to all of their soldiers? How
could anything get done? Camilo Mejía,
an Iraq War veteran, criticizes this system
on his website:
An empire cannot survive without an
imperial military, a military whose mem-
bers do not question the orders of their
superiors, a military whose members
who choose to refuse, do so quietly to
save their skins, a military whose mem-
bers would rather die and kill against
their moral judgments than question the
authority of their command.
To question that authority is an impos-
sibility in the military. Soldiers are trained
in discipline probably more than anything
else. It becomes a habit, a way of life. It
means following orders—the military
must be a cohesive force in order to have
any kind of authority in the world. It feels
good to be a part of something big and
powerful. It is a way to give meaning to a
life that might have been severely lacking
in it prior to a military career.
The military is no place to express
opinions about its operations, and in my
experience. soldiers tend to avoid these
kinds of opinions altogether. When I
asked my brother what he thought about
the military’s objectives in the Middle
East, he said,
“I don’t really care if there is a war or
not. I like being deployed because I get
paid more, but other than that I don’t re-
ally care because it doesn’t really affect
me except Ior those deployments. That
probably hard for you to understand but I
just don’t think about it. Most people in
the Army don’t care. If they were against
it they wouldn’t be in the Army.”
This detachment may pass in other
industries, but the stakes in the military
are too high and the bureaucracy too far-
reaching for soldiers to be so indiffer-
ent. The work they do affects the entire
world. It is an experience that drastically
changes the lives of its employees and in
many cases endangers them. It is also an
experience that shapes the characters and
behaviors of people for the rest of their
lives. A job in the military requires sol-
diers to leave their homes and families
frst Ior training. then Ior a permanent
base in the US, and often for deployments
overseas. As much as it is a job, it is also
a way of life.
I know, however, that the military can
be a benefcial experience Ior many oI
its soldiers. It saved my brother’s life.
He joined the Army because he had no
choice. The last two years of high school
he began selling and using marijuana,
cocaine, LSD, and prescription drugs; he
stole car stereos, and shoplifted. He was
heading in the direction of becoming a
serious criminal. My parents eventually
kicked him out of the house for the safety
oI my sister and me. He was fnally ar-
rested Ior fghting three months aIter he
graduated high school, and was given the
choice to go to jail or join the Army. If he
hadn’t joined, he would probably be dead
by now. The Army gave him structure,
showed him discipline. built up his conf-
dence, gave him a purpose and gave him
money. His state of mind has certainly
improved and I know that would not have
been possible without the Army.
The military has helped many of its
soldiers in similar ways, but the truth
is that they exploit the vulnerability oI
people who don’t have any other options.
When there is no hope, there is always
the military. It’s true that it will force its
soldiers into discipline, but only after
they hand over their lives and minds. To
spectators of my brother’s life, it seems
a good alternative to a life of crime, but
I see him in a vacant, thoughtless trap.
“Just do what they tell you to do and you
will do great in the Army,” I have heard
from my brother too many times. Just do
what they tell you to do. Just don’t ask
questions. Just focus on what you’re sup-
posed to do. Don’t worry about what ev-
eryone else is doing. Don’t worry bout
how everything fts together. Don`t worry
about what the military is actually doing.
And most certainly, don’t give out any in-
How does this kind of lifestyle and
training affect these soldiers beyond the
military? What happens when they leave
the structured military bubble and are
thrown back into the chaotic, unregulated
outside world? How do they make the
adjustment from being a small piece in
a well-oiled machine to controlling their
own lives? Soldiers are shaped to fll a
specifc role and when that`s over. they
are left on their own. The military uses
and abuses people for their own purposes
and then spits them out without much di-
rection or help at all, permanently trans-
Iormed by their training and experiences.
is is not an argument against the
military; it is an argument against its
irresponsible and careless abuse of the
lives of its soldiers. ose lost youths
who lack self-reection and determina-
tion are being swindled into serving in
an institution that seeks out such weak-
nesses and uses them to its advantage.
Why are they allowed to take advantage
of people like this? And why do we ig-
nore this exploitation? ey give them
a uniform and maybe some medals and
we, as citizens of the United States, are
expected to honor and look up to them.
ey promise a better life for people
in need—in need of money, in need of
structure, in need of purpose. But I see
something very dierent in the reality
of the military. I see my brother with
buzzed hair and big muscles, bad gram-
mar and little ambition, emotionless and
disinterested, who just re-enlisted for
another four years. I want his life to be
rich and meaningful. I want him to care
about the world around him. What I see
is a tool that the military has created for
its unknown purposes. And there is no
change in sight. People continue to join
the military for the same reasons. e
military continues to seek them out.
ey certainly aren’t looking to amend
their internal operations. And no one
on the inside is questioning these opera-
tions. Anyone who questions is thrown
out or silenced. And with no questions,
what can change?
SOFIE RAMOS B’ 13 is doing exactly
what she’s supposed to be doing.
by Sofie Ramos
Illustration by
the author
oo hot to eat, too
hot to sleep, too
hot to lug furni-
ture and boxes to
and fro. ough
the sudden ad-
vent of fall now
makes it seem a
distant memory, the rst days of Sep-
tember were unbearable. Not exactly
the reprieve I was expecting after three
months in Venice, where the summer
heat was excruciating, just as everyone
had warned me it would be.
e Venice heat was like those rst
few Providence days, minus the shady
trees and sporadic air conditioning: a
tree in Venice is an anomaly, and the
heat stagnates in the canals and slanting
crumbling buildings that line the narrow
pedestrian streets. It’s the sort of op-
pressive humidity that robs you of all ap-
petite—ideal for swimsuit season on the
Lido beach, not so helpful for a foodie
looking to indulge in the best that Italy’s
cuisine has to oer, namely heavy pas-
tas, wines, and cheeses. But the greatest
indulgence is saved for last, to save me
and Italians, in our time of need: gelato.
Actually, it just means frozen. Gelato is
to conventional American ice cream as
fresh, milky mozzarella is to the chalky,
grated white stu in resealable bags in
the dairy aisle. What elevates gelato is
the technique and philosophy behind it.
Of course you can nd good ice cream in
America (check out Mill’s Tavern here in
Providence—101 N. Main St—for an ex-
quisite basil avored one) but the beauty
of Italy is that, while some are certainly
better than others, and while styles vary
from North to South along with the dia-
lects, every gelato place consistently pro-
vides a good scoop.
Gelato rst joined the ranks of great
desserts in the sixteenth century, when
it was the winning dish in a Renaissance
version of the Food Network Challenge.
e court of Catherine di Medici in Flor-
ence held a contest to nd the best inno-
vative dessert to be served at one of her
banquets, and this frozen sweet took the
cake, so to speak. Since then the art has
only been perfected further.
e gelato base can be made either by
the traditional hot process of pasteuriza-
tion, or the newer, more convenient cold
process using a prepared mix. As with
ice cream, air is beaten into this mixture
as it freezes. Less air is incorporated in
making gelato, creating a thicker, dens-
er product than ice cream, which tends
to be airier and grainier. Gelato is usu-
ally made in smaller batches, and quick-
frozen at a slightly warmer temperature
than conventional ice cream, allowing it
to keep its silky texture without being
so cold that it masks the true avor. e
high content of heavy cream in ice cream
also covers up the avoring, while gelato
is made with more milk, letting natural
avors shine through.
e good news: gelato has a lower but-
terfat content than ice cream. e bet-
ter news: it tastes better too. American
ice creams typically contain fourteen to
eighteen percent butterfat, while gelato
contains only six to ten percent. Creami-
er, healthier, yummier…why don’t we all
eat gelato?
Billowing clouds of gelato in every shade
tease you from behind the glass in the
display case. How could you possibly
choose just one avor from among the
mouthwatering choices, each mound
practically glowing with its silky sheen?
ChocolaLc, vanilla.or vcgcLablc. Ycs,
vegetable! My favorite gelateria in Venice
served avors like chioggia radicchio, ar-
tichoke, celery, and orange and arugula.
Don’t make a face just yet. Vegetables
hold up surprisingly well in the creamy
setting, combining the ultra freshness
of a farmer’s market with a touch of
subtle sweetness. Or spice it up with
cardamom, cinnamon, or ginger, which
proved a ery tour of a not-so-typical
spice cabinet. en there is the favorite
of Italian kids, or of adults still unwill-
ing to relinquish the pleasures of child-
hood: or di latte. Literally meaning milk
ower, and made only of milk, cream,
and sugar, it is simplicity and unpreten-
tiousness, refreshing in its plainness.
ough relatively unknown in America,
or di latte is a staple in Italian gelaterie
and is a foolproof quality control meth-
od for a gelateria. If this avor fails the
LcsL, don'L boLhcr wiLh Lhc rcsL. You can
eat your scoop in a coppa or cona, as is,
or topped with whipped cream. I would
recommend pairing your bacio, a choco-
late hazelnut avor as sweet as the kiss
that its name signies, with a bottle of
Prosecco overlooking a canal (Italian
lover optional).
Everyone eats gelato, from schoolchil-
dren panting after a game of soccer in
the campo (square) to suited business-
men on the vaporetto (boat version of
public transport) home from work. It is
an escape from the heat, a long stroll in
the evening, a return to the slow pace
of traditional Italian life. And when the
Venetian heat comes to Providence, all
I crave is a big, dripping cone of gelato.
So began my quest around Providence to
nd somewhere to provide that x. For-
tunately, I’m not the only one screaming
for gelato. ere are a number of estab-
lishments willing to give you a taste of
Italian summer, whether it is in ninety-
degree heat, or in the middle of the dead
Providence winter. After all, we have
gondolas in our canal too.
An overlooked strip mall next to a billboard-ridden highway seems an unlikely loca-
tion to nd Providence’s only homemade gelato. One spoonful, however, will dispel
all doubts about Nick’s, a quintessential father-daughter business that has been a
part of Providence since its start as a frozen lemonade truck in the seventies. Nick
traveled to Italy in the seventies, and brought back the equipment and the lore of
gelato-making to Providence. At this point, he catered to the Italian-American popu-
lation—the only ones who knew about the frozen treat. His daughter Tina has now
taken over. Well taught by her father, she continues to use the traditional hot process
to make the gelato right in the store. e milk and cream are carefully pasteurized
and allowed to sit for 24 hours before being made into actual gelato. ey oer 26
avors, plus seasonal rotations—the creative genius of Tina and her family member
taste-testers. Classics such as hazelnut and zuppa inglese, a butterscotch-like avor,
cater to those nostalgic for Italy, while Peanut Butter Oreo and Cinnamon Roll sat-
isfy American cravings. Unsung hero award goes to this delicious and friendly family
joint, well worth the drive.
1401 Douglas Ave
I walked into this Italian market in Federal Hill and everywhere I looked, culinary
memories tugged at my heartstrings: cheese, meats, bread, homemade pastas, pre-
pared vegetables, and of course, gelato. Visually, the gelato bar was just what I was
looking for. ough they had only a limited avor selection, the pans of gelato shone
in perfect u ness. e consistency was the most convincing of all the places I tried;
the rst spoonful was almost reluctant to leave the rest of the cup, so thick and dense
was the mixture. ough I was slightly disappointed by the iciness of the center,
breaking from gelato’s general creaminess, the cappuccino avor was certainly in-
tense. eir gelato is not made in-house, nor in Italy, but is made according Italian
tradition by Berto’s Gelato based out of Phoenix, Arizona. A wonderful collection of
Italian goods, though gelato does not seem to be their highest priority.
265 Atwells Avenue
Mediterraneo, Siena, and Pane e Vino restaurants all get their gelato delivered
from Bindi, a gelato purveyor based out of Milan with outposts all over the US. is
does not, as I originally suspected, signify a monopoly on gelato market in Southern
New England, merely a very high quality food service. What began as a local, fami-
ly-owned pasticceria has grown into a worldwide specialty food exporting company.
Providence’s only gelato directly from the motherland, it showcases concentrated
avors and a smooth texture, and despite the long journey, keeps the creamy, fresh-
made taste. Mango and bacio were particularly satisfying.
Screaming for

the Sweet L

134 Atwells Ave 
238 Atwells Ave
by Belle Cushing
F an of Pi nk F l oyd/Roger Wat ers???
Are you a Woman 21 + unat t ached???
I have f l oor seat s 8t h row. . .
Madi son Square Garden. . . 1 0/5/201 0. . .
No E xpect at i ons. . .
Just an Advent ure. . . Seei ng “ The Wal l ” . . .
Cont act . . . dyer_t m@yahoo. com
BELLE CUSHING ’13 would take radicchio over vanilla any day.
Pane e Vino
365 Atwells Ave
Under normal conditions, it would not be possible to speak of the horses. ey are any color here.
eir actions. When the sky became white in the morning, their actions did not resemble them.
Among the rocks, the feet stumble. It is still not possible to substitute from one rock to all of the
rocks. It is impossible to merge from the stumbling feet to one rock, to substitute from the stumbling
foot to all of the rocks. In this instance, no voice of anxiety is speaking. A beach exists in this world,
a beach of any color. is week, the weather hasn’t been perfect as usual. It is always like that,
against you, changing right when you arrive. At night, it is necessary to go deeper into the caves
to make a re if you want to sit on the beach. ere, the opportunity for not speaking at all. It isn’t
true that some of the rocks are sand and some of the sand is rocks: there are rocks and then a lot of
sand everywhere.
A house that has all the properties of a normal house but it can be inverted upside-down and sym-
metry in theory implies functional symmetry, but the two families who live in this inversion have
no idea that the other family in their house exists.
e chief marionette shadow, with an accordion, walks onto the scaolding from the left. Melan-
choly, memories that come to the eyes of the guilty patrons. It is unclear whether the memories are
melancholy or whether they make them look melancholy. e chief marionette shadow walks in a
straight line across the scaolding. It takes its time.
A thick, red string, attached to the chief marionette shadow’s ankle, appears longer and longer as it
walks further to the right of the scaolding. By the time it walks o the scaolding, the red string
continues to be pulled from the left of the scaolding even without the chief marionette shadow on
the scaolding anymore, until the battered body of the babe marionette shadow appears. e red
string is tied around the babe marionette shadow’s neck.
e babe marionette shadow is dragged slowly across the scaolding, following the path of the chief
marionette shadow. Just before it—or, rather, its body—is pulled o of the right scaolding, the
babe marionette shadow turns its head to the patrons. It gives a nice smile.
On the beach the sun sets.
On the beach the sun rises.
e babe marionette shadow who enjoys washing the dishes. Good morning. I call myself
e chief marionette shadow who can wait for the washer of the dishes. (repeats) Good
morning. I call myself Babe.
e babe marionette shadow looks at the chief marionette shadow.
is is not funny.
e chief marionette shadow laughs.
On the beach the sun sets.
e sun rises.
Beware, the sunburn.
e chief looks up at the sky. Babe takes a sunower out of the vase.
At this hour?
Babe laughs heartily. e babe marionette shadow smacks the chief marionette shadow in
the face with a sunower. e chief smiles, hands in its pocket.
e sun sets, the sun rises.
Babc. Now Lhcn. You know LhaL iL is FasLcr Loday`
No. It is not possible.
e babe marionette shadow seems sad. It walks away from the chief marionette shadow.
Several seconds pass. e babe returns.
e babe marionette shadow breaks a raw egg on the chief’s head and face. And then another
one. And then another.
But all is possible!
e sun sets.
e sun rises.
e sound of the telephone ringing. e babe marionette shadow picks up a seashell, puts it
to its ear.
It is who, it is who
asks the babe marionette shadow...
e beach lights fade to total darkness.
e sun sets.
e sun rises.
e sun Intentional yes
A silence.
She kisses his hand, brings it to her cheek.
e lights icker
is is my husband.
e lights icker
Where is my gun
furiously shouts the chief marionette shadow
But you will never nd it
soothes the babe marionette shadow
But it is a waste
resigns falsely the chief marionette shadow
e lights icker
ɥc babc marioncLLc shadow Lakcs Lhc vasc oí sunßowcrs in iLs hands. You havc drank all Lhc
waLcr alrcady. A íasL drinkcr, ch` A silcncc. You drunkard. ɥc babc marioncLLc shadow slaps
the sunower as if it were a real marionette shadow-— backhand, several times. e babe
throws the vase at the son. e son marionette shadow catches it.
e babe ees.
A silence.
A table! A table! A table!
e sun sets.
A table on the beach—
e sun rises.
A table on the beach—
On the beach the lights icker on
e babe marionette shadow is lying on its back, on the left of the scaolding. Its wailing
continues. It is punctuated by bursts of silence. It is punctuated by moments of contortions
of its back, shifting positions and erections of its spine, uncontrolled spasms in its legs.
e nurse marionette shadow, who is also the babe marionette shadow, comes to its side.
On the beach the lights icker o
e babe marionette shadow is standing on the left of the scaolding. It cracks pistachios.
e nurse marionette shadow is standing on the right of the scaolding. It cracks pistachios.
I am going to sit down now e babe marionette shadow sits down It cracks pistachios e
nurse cracks pistachios
I am going to stand up now e babe marionette shadow stands up It cracks pistachios e
nurse cracks pistachios
I am going to lie down now e babe marionette shadow lies down on its stomach It cracks
pistachios e nurse cracks pistachios
On the beach the lights icker
e babe marionette shadow approaches the nurse marionette shadow.
Will you crack my back? Step on my back?
My back. Will you crack iL` You can do Lhc pisLachios aL Lhc samc Limc. I only nccd your íccL.
A silence.
No, I cannot.
A silence. I am afraid. To break your back. A silence.
e babe marionette shadow laughs.
My back is starting to hunch over. I have no posture anymore. I cannot sleep at night. A
Or in the day time, I cannot sleep at all whenever. A silence.
You'll only usc onc íooL. Bccausc you arc aíraid.
A silence.
e babe marionette shadow cracks pistachios. e nurse marionette shadow cracks pista-
e beach lights icker
e sound of the babe’s punctuated gasping.
e beach lights icker
e babe marionette shadow is lying on its stomach, on the right of the scaolding. Its gasp-
ing continues. It is punctuated by bursts of silence. It is punctuated by moments of ailing
its arms and legs about. It takes a big breath of air. It laughs.
e beach lights icker
I couldn’t sleep, they were cracking pistachios all night, they sometimes sound like footsteps
at a party, footsteps of people at a party...
e sun rises
e nurse marionette shadow sitting in the chair on the left of the scaolding. It is doing
paper work, using a calculator.
e babe stands on the right. Maybe let’s get out of the pistachio business...
A silence.
e babe cracks a pistachio. It puts the nut in its mouth. It does not agree with it.
A silence. Can I help you with that?
e sun rises
A pistachio tree on the beach
e lights icker o
e babe is lying on its back on the left of the scaolding.
e nurse goes over to it.
And they say if it hurts you if you press behind your knees, then you have to press it really
hard until you don’t feel the soreness in your back anymore.
e nurse marionette shadow begins to press on the backs of the babe marionette shadow’s
knees. It is committed.
e babe looks like it is in pain.
Does it hurt or no?
e babe looks uncomfortable. No, no, it tickles, it tickles... Stop, it tickles...
e nurse marionette shadow holds it still. It is committed.
e babe marionette shadow laughs. It hurts, it hurts! e babe laughs heartily.
It hurts, please, stop, please stop.
e babe marionette shadow looks like it is in pain.
e babe laughs.
Please, it hurts, it hurts! e nurse stops.
No, don’t stop, if it hurts it means you have to keep pressing until the soreness in my back
goes away.
e sun sets.
A table on the beach replaces the scaolding.
e sun rises.
Yes, it is true, there are commercials from the sky. A horse, who would be sick of all this music if it
could hear it, who was stumbling on the rocks—its ashes are used to put the re out so that you can
restart it in the deeper cave. It is important to follow the path of the horse who was only a memory
ago stumbling on the rocks; the full backside of the horse is a direction of the storm. At all times, it
is necessary to approach the horse with these words aloud, these ones in particular, not the words
surrounding them in the beach, in time or space.
Pnuitin Ptsincne
by Valerie Hsiung
by Michael
Lapadula and
Andrew Seiden
Illustration by Katie Gui
by Katie Gui
9:15 PM
Jenny Lewis & Johnathan
Rice. You are what you love and
not what loves you back. At The
Met, Hope Artiste Village, 1005 Main
St. Pawtucket. $16.50.
10 PM
“Blood From a Turnip,”
Rhode Island’s oldest late night
puppet salon. Soaring, inspirational,
paradigm-shifting expressions of
puppetry. At the Perishable Theatre,
95 Empire Street, Providence. $5.
ALL DAY (Thru Sep. 25)
First Annual New England
Festival of Ibero-American
Cinema (NEFIAC). Includes
screenings of “Strange Things:
Children of Haiti” and a panel
discussion of “QUEER Expressions
in Latin American Cinema.” Various
times and locations in Providence. for
details. $5/$10.
2 PM
Urban Barn Dance. All ages
and all abilities welcome to do
the cupid shu e, the macarena,
the do-si-do. Live band. At AS220,
115 Empire Street, Providence. $3
individual / $8 family.
7 PM
First Annual International
Observe the Moon Night.
Are you goong on Elvis? Hey, baby,
are you having fun? At the Frosty
Drew Observatory, 62 Park Lane,
Ninigret Park, Charlestown. FREE.
10 AM – 12 PM
Improvisational Tribal
Belly Dance with Neylan.
Old folks need to wiggle too.
Technically for senior citizens, but
perhaps they wouldn’t mind an
audience, or a partner. ;) Stop by for
group improvisation in the style of
amenco, north African, traditional
Indian belly-dancing, or a fusion
of the aforementioned. Perishable
Theater, Providence. $13 drop
in, $60 for six classes on a never-
expiring card.
1:30 PM
Prepare to be Scared:
New Classic Horror Movie
Matinee Series. Because you
always wanted to get your freak
on at the public library. Providence
Public Library, 150 Empire Street. $2.
10 AM – 4 PM
The Wonders of
Carnivorous Plants. Feed me
Seymour! Blithewood Mansion, 101
Ferry Road, Bristol. $10
3 PM
Public Lecture by South
Korean Ambassador Han
Duk-soo. Hear Mr. Han, former
prime minister of South Korea, deliver
a lecture on US-Korean relations.
Pembroke Hall Room 305, Brown
University. FREE.
9 AM – 10 AM
Free Mouth Guards for
Student Athletes. Watch yo’
mouth! Grab your mouthguards
while they’re free. Brought to you
by Orthodontic Specialists of New
England with American Association of
Orthodontists and NFL Legend Emmitt
Smith to ‘Play it Safe.’ 23 Commerce
Way, Seekonk, MA 02771.
9:30 AM – 12:30 PM
Laboratory Safety Training.
Carol didn’t wear her safety goggles;
now she doesn’t need them. Don’t be
Carol. Barus & Holley, Room 190. FREE.
7:30 PM
Pre-Dating Speed Dating. If
you’re not a dashing, single professional,
come fake it anyway under the
guidance of Pre-Dating®, purportedly
the world’s largest speed dating service.
They promise it won’t be awkward.
1060 Hope St. Providence. $25
9 PM
Wiz Khalifa with Big KRIT.
Shawty, whatchu doin tonight? Doin
tonight? Doin tonight? I’m all up here
cause you lookin right, You lookin
right, You lookin right. At Lupo’s
Heartbreak Hotel. $16 advance, $18
day of.
12 PM – 6 PM
Photography Exhibit: The
Providence Preservation
Society’s Ten Most
Endangered Properties. Burnin’
down the house. Chabot Gallery, 379
Atwells Avenue, Providence. FREE.
2:30 PM
A reading by poet Keith
Waldrop, National Book Award
winner. At McCormack Family
Theater, 70 Brown St. Providence.
Southeast New England Film
Festival presents ve short
lms produced by graduates of the
RI Film Collaborative that deal with
drunk driving awareness. Organizers
say, “Stay on the SENE... live well,
drive safe, be creative!” At the RISD
auditorium, Providence. FREE.
8 PM
Anti-Flag w/s/g Prayers For
Atheists, The Menzingers. Drink,
drank, punk. At The Met, 1005 Main
St., Pawtucket. $15/$17.
Paintings by Nick Carter

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