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January 30th 2012 Volume fifty-seven issue 8

Masthead
editors-in-chief angjelin hila & carla mesa guzzo production managers jasmine chorley foster & alyssa kuhnert history & politics jasmine chorley foster opinion maya bernal kotlier arts & culture alyssa kuhnert & jon wu avant-garg iris liu comics ileea larente copyeditor fanwu treasurer cat penny junior vice dungeon master illya mykytyn foreign correspondent john cherkas editor emeritus gavin Nowlan staff aschille clarke-mendes sara patterson simon meloche alex ross anastasia howe bukowski emma fox giovanni spina isabel mackay-clackett staff emeritus cristina diaz borda front cover jasmine chorley foster back cover ileea larente contributors wes dutcher-walls alican koc max lib man gold e. locke shaun midanik michael ching chong chang tea hadziristic gabriel fraser

Editor's Address
Dear Gargolians, Our centrefold section is quite exciting this issue. If you leaf to the middle of the paper you will see a Victo. rian looking chart with names of beers that you may have heard of but never tried. 'What is this?' you may ask. Well, it is our Annual 40 Review, a beer drinking ritual that we at the Garg cherish. What it is, basically, is that we congregate one night, this night having been the previous Friday, and drink or rather taste beers that are remarkably cheap and aweful. But why do this, you may ask? Why subject yourself to this torturous activity? Well, the simple answer to that is that we are masochistic. But the conventionally fun part of this activity is that after tasting the awful beer we get to disparage it with, you know, witty (or what we thought were witty) remarks. And so, in the 40 Review you will be delighted to see our disparaging and sometimes quite incoherent ramblings about that oh so (un)forgetful experience. We hope, however that you will find it at least amusing. With everlasting love,

Your Co-Editor-in-Chief Angjelin Hila

About us
The Gargoyle is University College's finest (sexiest) student newspaper and is a bi-weekly publication. We strive to produce an open forum for discussion on any topic. We have no political agenda except for reedom of speech, press and expression. We hold in contempt ignorance, censorship and bad writing. -...... !O-r;;Join us for the greatest oftruths are dressed in the gaudiest oflies wheras our pages are tastefully de......... signed. Ofice hours: mon-fri 12pm to 3pm The Gargoyle dungeon/office is located in F6, acessed by the F door in the UC quad 416.946.0941 ucgargoyle@gmail.com www.ucgargoyle.ca

t1I~TORY &t
CFS
-lhe good, the bad, and the ugly
jack crawford You know what your student union is, right? You should, because it's the entity that represents you as a student. You can easily determine what UTSU is on the surface: it's the group that got you 20% off Bixi Bike Rental, offers you discounted tickets, manages your health and dental plans and keeps your student groups financially afloat. But, in my opinion, to really know UTSU, you must first know the Canadian Federation of Students. The Canadian Federation of Students is an organization that unites about 80 student unions across Canada. Officially, they aim to combine resources and efforts so as to effectively lobby the government on important issues such as tuition. The CFS and member student unions are incestuously intertwined, as CFS executives join student unions and student union members graduate to CFS positions. A good example can be found in Angela Reigner, a CFS Vice Chair turned Executive Director of UTSU when Sandy Hudson (then the UTSU President) offered her the job. Executive Director is the highest paying job of UTSU, and it was held by a former Vice Chair of the CFS, a woman who was not even a student. Does that seem odd to you? Similarly, Sandy Hudson was CFS Ontario Women's Commissioner and Student of Colour Representative. Overla pping the latter were her two terms as President of UTSU and single term as Vice-President of Equity. She is currently the CFS Chairperson. Many students on CFS campuses have complained that not being a member of the CFS makes it difficult to be elected, which is evidenced by the controlling relationships it forms and the amount of effort put into forcibly retaining them. I'll get to that, but I want start with something more relevant to characterizing this curious Federation. To begin, the CFS is notorious for rallying behind controversial issues such as a free Palestine. You may have seen this movement mixed into the smattering of Drop Fees campaigns and thought they were independent; the truth is, CFS student unions across the country are doing the same thing. We saw similar. behaviour in 2009, when Sandy Hudson organized an Israeli Apartheid week at the University of Toronto. There isn't anything wrong with either of these movements; maybe you agree with what they stand for. However, the fact remains that taking an obvious stand on these issues is alienating students who differ in opinion but nevertheless pay fees for representation. In 2008 we saw the CFS using that voice to crush ideas it doesn't agree with. This was the year that UTSU and a smattering of other CFS rallies on against questioned

ObITIC~
to separate in a referendum. CFS-BC campaign plans were leaked when a member accidentally emailed them to the provincial list-servo The documents were never explained by the CFS but did involve a number of members being flown in from out of the region-the province, even-ito speak kindly of the Federation. (When a Kwantien paper wrote about this, they were sued-for inaccuracies, of course). In other words, the CFS is so desperate to keep itself coddled in student union funding that it will fly members from across the country to keep itself from being expelled. This is something that the CFS does often. While York was striking in 2008, its student association was in Ottawa, fighting for the $378,000 it would lose if the CFS lost a referendum. This is not to mention how hard it is to even have a referendum with a CFS, or that even if a school does manage to defeat the CFS it has a nasty habit of refusing to leave. Last year Concordia University held a referendum that the CFS refused to recognize, leading to court trials-and I could go on. Meanwhile, I would like to point out something very important; that the CFS is able to do everything I've told you because it's spending your money. When CFS members need to borrow their members (for whatever reason), you pay to fly them to another province; when the CFS wants to send its lawyers after a student paper, I'll bet you're paying for that too; and, lest we forget, when Executive Director of UTSU Angela Reigner decides to block an expressway for six hours in defense of the Tamil Tigers-even if she does this completely independently-well, that bill is also on you, because your student unions will take care of its CFS member by offering to cover her legal fees. What does this say about UTSU? It says that our student union is run by an organization that is well-known for spending student money and resources to rash and unaccountable ends. This strikes a chord with. issues that have recently come to our attention. Take the Stop the Salaries campaign (mentioned last week in the Varsity). In a nutshell, USTU pays their Executives $735,000 a year - which is. ridiculous regardless of whether or not the $200,000 addition is as honest as UTSU vaguely claims.UTSU has been known for other financial follies, such as misappropriating $200,000 from the Health and Dental budget without adequate explanation for what it was spent on. I don't mean to sound alarmist; in that giant belly of a budget I can't say much about where any of that money has gone. Still, when our student union refuses to release financial records or explain their plump salaries, I don't think the mishandling of student funds-that is, real student funds-should be taken lightly.

Cfian e gogaih nan cean. a ni an t-iomradli

student unions banned Pro-Life the grounds that they went pro-choice policies. When on the decision, both the CFS

national and Ontario Women's Commissioners-Shelley Melanson and Sandy Hudson-defended their positions by stating that supporting pro-life groups was like supporting the KKK, and that it was putting money into an organization that took away people's rights. Let's do some deconstruction. The CFS believes that pro-life activists are trying to take away a woman's rights by asking her to give up control of her body, an interpretation shared by many pro-choice individuals. The reality is much deeper than this because the issue of abortion is not a simple matter of sexism; it is an intellectual debate about when a fetus becomes a person and how far we should extend the right to live, a debate that has profound implications for ethics, medicine, the law, religion, and perhaps our idea of what it means to be human. The CFS has chosen to take a side on this debate and handles the opposition by denying it the right to be recognized. This is eliminating the free speech of students on the grounds that they don't agree with what they have to say. They claimed to be discrediting groups that are "anti-choice"; but isn't denying pro-life groups a voice tantamount to discrediting their choices? Speaking of disagreement, the CFS has had its tiffs with student media. In 2007 the Eyeopener-a Ryerson student paper-was threatened with legal action if they published any 'inaccuracies' regarding the CFS. The law firm representing the Federation mentioned, in particular, an incident at Douglas College wherein the student union had grossly mismanaged their money and the CFS has given them unauthorized loans. What were the inaccuracies they should be careful to avoid? Namely that the national branch of the CFS was not to be confused to the provincial branch, something the Excalibur at York and the Manitoban at the University of Manitoba had recently done. The CFS government relations coordinator said that these measures were to prevent the errors from being copied and republished. Because this isn't the measure one generally takes in such a situation, Doolittle-the then-editor-in-Chief of the Eyeopener-was of the opinion that the CFS was attempting to intimidate student journalists out of writing about them. This is not an isolated incident; a MacLean's article in 2008 stated that CFS spent about $75,000 a year on legal fees, and the CFS is notorious for threatening students with legal action. You may be wondering what tactics such an organization uses-asides from intimidation-to keep a firm grip on student groups. Apparently, the answer is a certain level of guerilla warfare. In 2008, the CFS became particularly unpopular and a number of campuses in BC decided

Let's talk about sex, fashion
It's not just a gay man's world anymore
jasmine chorley foster In the past decade, the international fashion industry has undergone a drastic makeover. Black models and Asian models have been hired for some of the most coveted jobs (beauty campaigns and ... a certain annual underwear show), a male model named Andrej Pejic has been able to walk in both men's and women's shows, (indeed he is often the most beautiful girl in most rooms), and the industry has successfully adapted to the advent of social media and survived in the face of massmarket discount retailers like H&M. These have been the top stories in and out of fashion publications. A story that has largely gone unnoticed however, is the visibility and increased representation of lesbians in the fashion industry. Lesbians working in fashion is nothing new; one of the greatest supermodels of the 1980s, Gia Carangi, was openly bisexual. But in the 20th century, lesbian models were often dismissed as partiers and experimenters. Throughout most of the 20th century, however, there were few traces of lesbian representation in major collections and magazines. Photoshoots featuring two usually straight, models embracing or kissing were published for their shock value, and the glamour associated with the aforementioned supermodel "partiers and experimenters." Then came the massive popularity of androgyny. Girls with punk haircuts and boyish frames were closely tied to the Kate Moss era of 'heroin chic' fashion in the 1990'S. Androgyny has come and gone many times since then, each time taking a different form. It has been an endearing look partly due to the necessity to balance out the more glamorous looks of the moment, as fashion often works in binaries. But its survival is also due to the advent of street-style blogs in the 21st century. The fashion world took note of the few models that wore skinny jeans, motorcycle boots, leather jackets, baggy t-shirts, and had shaggy haircuts. These were the lesbian models. Their style became the newest and coolest incarnation of androgyny and was copied by nearly every straight model. The influence of these lesbian models began to show up in major collections and magazine editorials. The modern tomboy uniform of these girls became widely admired. One of these pioneering girls is a Danish model named Freja Beha Erichsen. Openly gay, she has become the one of the top three fashion models working today. She's famous for her tattoos, her personal style, and her many romantic relationships with other models such as Abbey Lee Kershaw, Irina Lazareanu, Catherine McNeil, and Arizona Muse. Freja has walked for every major designer and has done campaigns for the most prestigious fashion houses such as Valentino and Chane1. The girl selling the most expensive, feminine, and luxurious clothes and jewellery, is a boyish, tattooed, -punk lesbian from Denmark. That's fucking cool. The second most talked about lesbian in fashion is Jenna Lyons, the Creative Director of J. Crew, a multi-million dollar American clothing and accessories brand known for its classic, all-American preppiness. This year, Jenna divorced her husband and father of her son to date Courtney Crangi, effectively shoving Lyons out of the closet. When this story first broke, the general attitude was shock: "She made sequins and bright pink popular again! How can she be a lesbian?" If Jenna

was in her 20S and not her 40s, the story would have likely been given the "partier and experimenter" spin. What I love about Jenna and Freja is that they aren't lesbian charicatures. Jenna is a business executive and a mother. She wears bright colours, is one of the most respected women in fashion, and according to Forbes she earned $4,266,7°3.00 and over a million dollars in stock options in 2009 alone. Freja is arguably the most beautiful model working today, and debunks the myth that all lesbians have to fit a certain butch mould. She can don a suit and short hair in one shoot and a Valentino dress and pearls in another. The ability to take on those very traditionally gendered personas and be convincing is powerful. Are the days of eroticizing lesbians over? It is unlikely. But Freja and Jenna are two shining examples of how a "So what?" attitude can open doors and normalize what once was exotic.

'Dem bones, 'dem bones, 'dem (contested) bones
gavin nowlan On the morning of July 28th 1996, two men stumbled upon a skull by the banks of the Columbia River near Kennewick, Washington. The men were not trained archaeologists; they were trying to find a better spot to view a hydroplane race taking place that afternoon on the river, but they had the presence of mind to not disturb too much of the site and contacted the local police. That evening, once the police had determined that what they were looking at was not a recent crime, they contacted local archaeologist James Chatters to come and recover as much of the body as he could. Even though the body was found on the eroded riverbank, Dr. Chatters was able to find an almost complete skeleton in rather good condition nearby. Based on the good condition of the body, and the presence of Caucasoid skeletal features, Dr. Chatters came to the conclusion that he was looking at the body of a European settler from the 191h century. This early conclusion began to evaporate once Dr. Chatters began his examination in the laboratory. Buried and half healed over in the right hipbone was a small, greyish object that, once Dr. Chatters ran a CT scan turned out to be a stone projectile point common to the area. The problem was that type of object, called a Cascade point, was common to the people who lived in the Pacific Northwest from around eight thousand to four thousand years ago. As Dr. Chatters put it later, "we either had an ancient individual with physical characteristics unlike those of later native peoples, or a trapper-explorer who'~ ha.d difficulties with 'stone-age' peoples dunng hIS travels." The only solution was to run a full radio-carbon dating and DNA analysis on the body. The resul~ showed that the projectile was no modern weapon; the man had lived and died around 73ooBCE. The discovery of Kennewick man was controversial; the accepted wisdom is that the populating of the Americas took place in one wave during a lull in the last ice age. This is the story that is taught in high school history classes. As the glaciers that covered North America receded around 16,000 years ago, people who had been living between what is now Alaska and Russia followed breaks in the glaciers south, eventually reaching the tip of South America over the course of around a thousand years. The problem with this theory is that though there is ample evidence of this southern migration, there are also archaeological sites which don't seem to follow the script. The Topper site in South Carolina has yielded artifacts dating to many thousands of years older than the Clovis peoples, generally thought to be the first inhabitants of the continent. Further south in Brazil, the Pedra Furada site has yielded artifacts dated to 48,000 years ago, with some artifacts dated to more than 60,000 years old. There is still debate about the exact age of these older sites, but more and more evidence is being uncovered to complicate the story of when the first people came to this continent. One of the problems with piecing together the story of the settlement of North America through the archaeological record is that archaeology, especially paleo-archaeology, is by its nature a scattered way to approach investigating the past. Many of the most important sites in the Americas have been discovered serendipitously, stumbled upon by chance like the bones of Kennewick man. Many important sites lie uncovered, while sites that may represent short bursts of settlement are discovered by chance. One reality that archaeologists have to contend with is that in many cases, sites which could provide crucial evidence have been erased from history due to natural changes. During the last ice age, the same lower sea levels which made it possible to cross by land between Asia and America also meant that the Pacific coastline was much further out to sea than today. During the last ice age, the zone of settlement would have been reduced to a narrow strip of land along the coast. We must therefore be resigned to the fact that many important sites now lie submerged under the waters of the Pacific. In 2008, the first ever large scale study of the genetics of the American indigenous populations took place. Using mitochondrial DNA, researchers posited that all indigenous populations in the Americas can trace their lineage back to a single group emerging from the Bering Strait around 13,000-16,000 years ago. On the surface, these findings would appear to be definitive evidence of the single migration theory, that there was only one wave of migration to the Americas, except that there exists evidence like the bones of the Kennewick man which demonstrate that the populations in the Americas were not entirely homogeneous. The reality that researchers face is that the DNA evidence can only trace back the lineage of the modern indigenous populations. If the older archaeological evidence is taken into account, this recent migration could just be one of many series of migrations during the last ice age. So, what does it matter if there can be no definitive timeline of migration, or if there were multiple waves instead of just one? In a word: politics. Many indigenous groups believe, archaeology or no, that they have been in this land since the dawn of time. The historical memory of these peoples stretch back many thousands of years. To have institutions like universities come in and say, "Well you say you've been here forever, but we say you came here 15,000 years ago", can reek of the same colonial effort to erase indigenous history and culture that led to Residential Schools. What is even more politically dangerous are the implications of multiple migration waves. If the timeline for earlier migrations are pushed further back, but the DNA evidence for the modern indigenous population places them at a relatively recent date of arrival of 13,00016,000 years ago, then what happened to the earlier settlers? It would not be too unrealistic to think that certain apologists for the European settlement of the continent would use this timeline to justify colonization as part of a historical continuum. Yes, we wiped out your people, but you wiped out the people before you so it's fair game. This might seem like an extreme tactic to take, but in the arena of unsettled land claims, in this country especially, any weapon available to wield in the arena of public consciousness is especially handy. "You see?" says the Canadian public, "we're not so bad. Look, they did it first." There is another strange facet to the debate around the chronology of the settlement of the Americas, and this one comes from an unlikely source: The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, better known as the Mormons. Mormons believe that before who we know as the indigenous peoples of the Americas lived here, another earlier group of American Christians (one of the lost tribes of Israel) lived on the continent and was visited and was ministered by Jesus. Thus the discovery of a "Caucasoid" featured ancient skeleton like Kennewick man was an especially fortuitous event for Mormon archaeologists. In an academic environment where costly archaeology programs, especially in the un-sexy_realm of Paleo-Indian studies, are not high on university budgets, the Mormon Church spends handsomely. Brigham Young University, the bastion of the Mormon academic world, has one of the most well funded archaeology programs in the world. The remains of Kennewick man are currently housed at the University of Washington where they await the outcome of a legal battle to determine who owns them. 11\ the aftermath of their discovery the local Umatilla people petitioned for the right to bury the remains as one of their ancestors. The judge in the case ruled that the Umatilla did not actually posses or could not prove kinship. While the case is still before the courts, Kennewick man remains the property of the United States Army Corps of Engineers, on whose land he was found.

because there is always a grey area.

Party like a reel use
simon meloche to the bar you are left with a big coat, mittens, and a scarf to be responsible for all night, and who wants that? Point three is the uncertainty principle. I just made up (having nothing to do with quantum mechanics) which states that the more social one's plans are, the less precisely the satisfaction from those plans can be controlled, determined, or predicted. We've all had those nights, sitting at the bar and thinking about how you would rather be at home watching Youtube videos. The thing about going out is that there are those unpredictable variables that can really turn you off of a night out, whether it be the drunk girls yelling at their G.!. Joe boyfriends outside of Andy Pool hall, your cellphone that fell in the toilet, or, your friend who throws up in your lap during the cab ride home. Taking a break from the sometimes chaotic student nightlife to .enjoy a night in is often relaxing and satisfactory. Staying in gives you an opportunity to do things that seem like a complete waste of time during the day: when else would you find the ti"me to keep up with 1V shows that should have been cancelled three seasons ago? By no means am I advocating the lifestyle of a neckbearded basement dwelling man child. I simply ask that the next time you are faced with the decision of going out or staying in, you weigh out your options carefully, and recognize the allure of a comfortable and satisfying night in. It's Thursday night. You've just finished skimming over last week's readings while eating last week's spaghetti leftovers in clothing that should have been washed sometime last week. Your roommates are zipping up coats and tying up boots in preparation for a cold walk towards all of the cheap watered down pitchers College street has to offer. It's decision time. Do you zip up coats and tie up boots to join your pre-drunk roommates in a night on the town, or throw on some pajamas for reclusive amusement? For the average twenty-something year old with a social life I imagine the decision is obvious: beer and friends rather than watching Friends alone with a beer. However, often I find myself, siding with the comforts of a night in rather than the potential fun of a night out. Now, you might be thinking to yourself, "But Simon, you'll have plenty of time to hang out alone in track-pants when you're old and undesirable, why not live it up while you can?". Before condemning the solitary night in, take time to consider a few things. Let's face it, we are now in full-fledged winter mode. Balmy December is over and Mother Nature is back to freezing faces off all around campus. Why bundle up in defiance and trek to bars when you can wrap yourself in a blanket and eat a half tub of ice cream in delicious spite? On top of facing the' nose numbing cold when going out in February, when you finally get

My second point: money. Ten dollars spent at a bar will get you little more than a slight buzz and artificial gayety from waiting staff, if you tip well enough that is. Take that same money, buy a couple forty's at your local LCBO and you can get as fucked up as you want. Or, if you're not into fatal alcoholism, spend that ten dollars on cereal and Netflix for all the B-side movies you can watch.

bad!

Hey Thomas! Two minutes for looking so

shaun midanik
W?en game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals was bem? played this past year, I was (I'll admit) cheering for the Boston Bruins. Needles~ to say I was ecstatic when they won. TIm Thomas had been without a doubt the Bruins' best player during the ~layoffs and I loved watching him every t~me he stepped on to the ice. He was SImply breathtaking. In the final game of the. playoffs, Thomas kept a shutout despite facing almost 40 shots. I had become such a fan that I even considered getting a giant poster of him for my bedroom, despite the fact that I'm a lifelong Leafs fan (I have my reasons for cheering for the Bruins!). argued that the u.s. government has "grown out of control" and is now in "direct opposition to the Constitution and the Founding Fathers vision of the federal government". In essence, he was condemning Obama for what he sees as the federal government overstepping the limits of power set forth by the Founding Fathers. He also claimed that both political parties are guilty, and both should share responsibility. Thomas can try and hide under a veil of neutrality, but any shrewd reader can realize he is being highly critical of Obama and the Democrats. After all, Thomas is a lifetime member of the Republican Party.

Boy am I glad that I didn't get anything with his name on it. Recently, Thomas rejected an invite to meet President Obama at the White House. This is an annual event in which the current President of the U.S. congratulates the winners of the Stanley Cup. If he had decided to miss out on this rare opportunity because of other commitments, sickness, or something else along those lines, that would have been acceptable. Instead, he decided to skip the event ror political reasons. He made a statement through Facebook in which he

Thomas mentioned in his statement that he had the right to refuse to go to the White House. Nobody would dispute this, and herein lies the problem that I'm struggling with. Thomas is making something out of nothing. This event is not a political issue. It is simply another way to honour the winners of a prestigious trophy. When the most powerful man in the free world offers his congratulations to you for your hard work, why would you say no?

I'm not sure how many people have actually watched the ceremony before, but here is essentially what happens year in, year out: the president walks up to the podium placed in front of the players. He proceeds to read off a few jokes that don't make sense to him and badly mispronounce the European players' names as he obviously never watches hockey. Then, the players hand him a Jersey with his name on it, the president shakes every players' hand, and he leaves to applause. That's it.

Thomas could have easily just stood behind Obama and never said a word. He could have shook the presidents' hand and moved on with his life. Instead, he made a very selfish, arrogant decision that makes himself, the Boston Bruins, and the' entire NHL look bad. He put his teammates in a horrible position. They'll now face an onslaught of media attacks, opposing fans booing them, and the like. His actions should be condemned. This is not a political issue in the slightest, it is a great honour to be invited to meet the President. Tim Thomas is a hockey player, not a Congressman. Perhaps worst of all, Thomas is supposed to be a role model to millions of fans across the World. He has let down a great number of them with his actions. My bedroom walls may be barren but I know I'm not supporting the selfishness that Tim Thomas apparently stands for.

Snubbing, rebuffs and write offs
maya bernai kotlier Too often, arts students are left having to rush to explain their chosen studies and plans for their future career. Why is it never the students who are studying programs they hate, to follow their parents' dreams, that are the ones rushing to defend themselves? Some students are desperately seeking parental approval. In other cases parents who struggled with poverty wish for a better life for their children, including education, financial security and success. Then there are the parents who wish for their offspring to follow in their footsteps. Nevertheless, following through with such expectations is not likely to lead to happiness. I have even met students who chose life sciences because they did not know what they wanted to do. I especially do not understand this as you then become entrapped in all the required courses for the program. There is no space to try other courses to determine the many other options and discover what suits you best. to think that the many people I meet who can't stand their studies may be the next generation of professionals, giving diagnosis or managing your money. Sure, some are hard working enough to continue in their career diligently, but others who hate their work will thus work poorly. I am studying programs in the humanities in an attempt to best fulfill the course that leads to a career I have always wanted to have. I understand that my interest can be a difficult area to find a decent wage in, or even a job. Usually I think I made the most suitable decision for myself, but some people can leave you feeling unsure or stupid for taking a risk. I think of possible back up careers not only because of the current economy but to defend my area of study to others. I "find it even worse for students who decided post-secondary education was not for them. There are many successful people who did not graduate or go to university,
It is terrifying

yet it is often treated as a failure. It's not that they are concerned for the difficulty in acquiring a job without further education, but that it is seen as an indicator of thickness. It seems that university education oftentimes brings out a new arrogance. In my first year I had one of my first unpleasant confrontations in regards to being an arts student. I was in an antiques store when the owner, having learned I was a student, asked me what I was studying. As I began to tell her, she cut me off. "You should study engineering," she said. "My son's an engineer, he's in Sweden, he just won an award."

My friend has gone to walk-in clinics where the medical workers Google her symptoms and do not have any concern for th~ health of their patient. She has gone to the ER only to be waved away after hours of waiting, her symptoms ignored and declared an attempt to grab attention. One , family I know call their family doctor "Dr. Tylenol" because he suggests Tylenol, if anything, for the majority of their ailments. Of course, there are poor examples in every profession; however, not every profession is responsible to help protect the physical health of persons, or their life time savings for example. This is why I cannot stand it when students decide to procure such vocations without the best of intentions. Yes, I believe that becoming an engineer or the like takes intelligence and dedication. I do not mean to attack any professions, I just believe that many other careers require just at much intelligence, dedication and great creativity. I know of few programs at this university, for example, that are "easy" and do not require a certain amount of hard work and brains. Furthermore, talented artists, authors, poets, comedians, historians, journalists, psychologists, mUSICIans, teachers, philosophers are needed as well. They can offer emotional comfort-and education. Nicole Kidman said in her Oscar acceptance speech for Best Actress: "...Why do you come to the Academy Awards when the world is in such turmoil? Because art is important. And because you believe in what yQ_U and you w~nt to do - honour that, and it is a tradition that needs to be upheld." The arts deserve to be valued, and besides, who can determine which occupations are superior or inferior when the work is positive and done with passion and heart?

I don't believe it's fair that medicine, business and law are often still seen as the most honourable professions. You can call me sentimental but I truly think it is first and foremost the person that makes a job honourable and important, not the title or salary. Judgement based on pay is ridiculous, there is a general agreement that teachers deserve to be paid more, and yet those that teach (and are sometimes forced to take up second jobs) are often still not given the respect they deserve. Yes, Canada needs doctors. I am in great admiration of those who have always wanted to be one, to help others, are determined to go through the many years of schooling to become one. But Canada does not need more lazy doctors who are in it solely for the money or status.

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from our archives

arts
Puke wave no.
alican koc Fag Cop - I'm Fucking Dead (Eat Records), 2008
It seems like lo-fi music has become the

ell ture
1:

some reviews
Four Eyes - Towards The End Of Cosmic Loneliness (Puzzle Pieces Records), 2011 Four Eyes' second EP, Towards The End Of Cosmic Loneliness is by far my favorite record of 2011. Based in Somerville, Massachusetts, Four Eyes plays ultra-catchy songs that combine the angst and gushiness of independent pop punk with the laidback style and guitar riffage of 90S indie rock, particularly Dinosaur Jr. - like if J Mascis played guitar for The Ergs!. The EP consists of four shorter songs, around two minutes each, and ends with my favorite track, SOS, which puts the band's aforementioned skill in guitar riffery, catchy songwriting, and summery-pop-fuzz-teen-angst to the best use in every sense ever. Top Track: SOS

new hype in the ever-fluid world of indie rock. Following the lead of bands like Vivian Girls, No Age, Best Coast, Wavves, and Ty Segall, more and more bands are layering their sugary pop/punk/garage/psych/surf records with layers of feedback and fuzz and writing songs about getting stoned on the beach. Although I'm somewhat skeptical of large-scale trends like this (and the quality of Wavves' music), I sort of dig this one. The aesthetic is pleasing and fun, the bands are all kinda cute, and the influences are all in the right place. This being said, it should be noted that the music of these bands is exceptionally palatable. Enter Fag Cop, a self-proclaimed Jizz Wave band (suck it, Wavves!) from Lawrence, Kansas. But what exactly is Jizz Wave? Fag Cop summed up the genre nicely when, in an interview, they described electric guitar as their favorite form of vandalism. When asked what Fag Cop would sound like to a deaf person, the band replied, "scrotum/vulva punch". Whoa. I find the I'm Fucking Dead 7" to be the ultimate test to those who claim to be fans of low~delity 'p~oduction. The EP consists of bnlhantly-written-if-you -can -hearthem tracks of the scummiest trashiest ' garage pun k I 've ever heard in my life. ~he songs sound like they were recorded live off a ';Isty tape deck wrapped in a semen-mOistened cheesecloth However somewhere between the jagged textures' the b.roken guitar solos, the savag~ hollermgat the moon, and the general inaudibility of the record the songs really shine through. Each' of them is c~tchier th~n the .next, features great riffs, ~nd IS genumely creative. After spending a good chunk of time listening to The Mummies, it's nice hearing garage punk bands that aren't based aro.und the twelve-bar blues. To my dehght, I recently found out that this band is still together (I thought they had broken up) and that they are releasing a new LP soon. Get pumped.
SIX

P.S. Eliot - Introverted Romance In Our Troubled Minds (Salinas Recordsjvaooo This is quite possibly one of my favorite records of all time. Birmingham, Alabama's P .S. Eliot is a female-fronted indie punk band closer to the indie side of the spectrum. This being said, P.S. Eliot is a band that is incredibly difficult to pinpoint. Various parts of this record evoke No Idea records pop punk and folk punk, K Records twee pop, and other more recent indie punk bands (the fifth track, Augustus sounds suspiciously similar to Lemuria's Hours). Genres aside, Introverted Romance In Our Troubled Minds is an absolute masterpiece. The record has a gorgeous sense of honesty; the songs, which vary in musical style, are perfectly written, are consistent in their excellence, and the lyrics are poetic and personal. The singer, Katie Crutchfield, coos through the verses of songs with a mild Southern drawl, which builds up to heart stopping choruses in which she cries at the heavens and makes you want to burst into tears and sing along. The record was recorded by the band in one of the member's houses, a surprising fact considering the quality of the recordings. Unlike the band's demo tape, a goofy bunch of fuzzed out twee punk tracks, this record sounds far more serious. However, the jang1y guitars and the overall cuteness of the record are indicators that nothing should be taken too seriously. This record is best suited for a summer crush you remember because of the music you listened to when you liked them. Or maybe I'm just a sap. Top Tracks: All of 'em.

Pukeoid - Demo (Not Normal),
2010

Top Tracks: Every single fucking one of them.

Listening to the Pukeoid demo is the musical equivalent of being vomited on and then bludgeoned to death by a drunken caveman. The demo features eight tracks of ultra lo-fi old school hardcore punk in the vein of Negative Approach and Negative FX which I believe was recorded off a tape deck in somebody's garage in Indiana. Beyond the inexplicable pleasure caused by the overall grittiness of the recording quality, the songwriting is phenomenal, with lightning-speed songs that refuse to compromise intensity and are based around destructive riffs that will stick in your head and make you want to (inexplicably) punch yourself in the face in social situations. Equally impressive is the utterly terrifying barking provided by Pukeoid's singer Clay, who has the voice of a furious drill sergeant. Add to this mixture vomit-inducing song titles such as Choke, Shot In The Head, Suffocate, and Gimme Death (in that precise order), and you've got my favorite demo tape of all time. Top Tracks: Choke, Shot In The Head, Gimme Death, Shame Society

Black Ice 6.1 %
7.1%
Republican/STD: It's like fucking Rick Perry. ould it get you pregnant? It could cause an abortion, that's for sure!
Comments: Tastes like an awkward sex

Republican/STD: It could frost Nixon! Driving hazard? If you're in bed!
Comments:

Sweaty latex glove. Random funny quote: "Leather Underwear! Thank you Maya!"

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Steeler
5%
Republican/STD: Pubic lice Union laid? Onion laid.
Comments: My beard hair hurts.

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Max
7.1%
Republican/STD: Gonorrhea Rim Job? Put your tongue INSIDE ME!
Comments:

Hit

I think I've seen this porno. Random funny quote: "Do you know what's great about animans? They fuck their siblings. They don't care!"

No

Co. Random "Anyone l-1 stai

The "max" is bovine semen This tastes like Chow Yun Fat's sweat

Colt 45 7%
Republican/STD: tertiary-stage sipbilis Does it work every time? And twice on a Sunday! Comments: ARC! Why would you bother? (Agreed, bananna flavoured meds). I feel like the late Tupac

Olde English 8%
Republican/STD: Jimmy Carter, cause it starts off soft and then sucks. Is veiny listing an apropriate search term? ...YES!
Comments:

Fosters
ublican/STD: Only crabs, no biggie. k before class? Only pertains to women's rights
Comments:

5%
Flepublican/STD: Rudy Giuliani Vould you fuck an Ausmilian? FUCKAustrailia!
Comments:
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Bonus!
Repubican/STD: Sara Palin, cause it should be aborted.

taste, just after taste. mparatively only half horse piss , funny quote: vanr the last cum n of this?"

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Musty cunty taste of Down Under. The Mahatma Gandi of beers.
Random funny quote: "Cletus, you

get that third eye from your daddy

Canadian Electric
maxlibman
If 2011 taught us anything in terms of popular music, it's that electronic music is taking over. Slowly but surely electronic, acts have supplanted rock bands on top 40 charts worldwide with smash hits no longer coming from bands like Nickelback or Coldplay but from DJ's like David Guetta and Afrojack as well as pop stars such as Rihanna and the Black Eyed Peas who have started to integrate strong elements of house music into their \ songs. The emergence of the electronic 'scene into the mainstream has caused more and more star DJ's to emerge from all corners of the world and Canada is no exception. Here are some of the big Canadian names making waves in all sorts of electronic music sub-genres. Ontario) This, man simply cannot be ignored. His unique brand of progressive house music is seen by many as being one of the main reasons electronic music has a whole has been propelled into the mainstream. This consensus opinion was seemingly justified by the fact that, last August, Deadmaus became the first electronic act ever to play a headlining set at Lollapalooza. Definitive track: Sofi Needs a Ladder Zeds Dead (Toronto, Ontario) This duo is almost single-handedly responsible for created Canada's dubstep scene. Their weekly dub step night at Wrongbar which goes by the name Bassmentality brought premier dubstep producers like Skrillex, Nero and Breakage to Canada way before the genre became the juggernaut it is today.. These boys are not only great promoter but great producers as well. Having garnered initial acclaim from their remixes of tracks like Gimme Shelter and Pyramid Song by Radiohead, Zeds Dead have reached level of fame that has seen them embark on their own 70 date headlining North American tour this past winter. Definitive track: Eyes on Fire Kid Koala (Vancouver, British Columbia) As DJs and producers have ~isen to become amongst the worlds most famous musrcian one electronic art from has seemingly been lost: that of turntablism. Kid Koala keeps the flame alive however at his live performances we he puts on display some of the world's best live scratching and sampling. Even if the mainstream has yet to notice Koala's prowess the musical elite have as Koala has already found himself opening for DJ Shadow and collaborating with Gorillaz and even the Preservation hall Jazz band. Definitive Track: Moon River (live) Jacques Greene (Montreal, Quebec) Mr. Greene should definitely be classified at this point as more up and' coming than established. Not too much biographical information is available about the man at the moment but we , do know that he hails from Montreal, his music is all over the electronic spectrum and that every track he's put out up to this point has been absolutely huge. Definitive Track: Motivation

Deadmaug (Niagara Falls,

State of the Art: Paris in Flux

Paris ~as long been a gathering place for artists. From the roaring twenties of Hemmingway and Fitzgerald and nearly every theatre movement of the past 150 years, Paris has been the place to be. The home of Piccaso, DaH, Jarry, an~ ~elies, you'd think today's Pans~ans w~u~d be up to something amazmg to living up to their once illustrious history. Sadly, that hasn't been the case. The buzz around the art scene in Europe now is that London is the place to ~e. ~ondon seems to be capitalizing on Its- underground" art culture to create a city where you are never far from anything new and innovative.

So what happened to Paris? "The young people got lazy," quite a few artists have said, "they've become complacent with their city's place at the top, but are doing nothing to keep it there." Enter Flateurville, an always-changing art experiment. Using any space available, the artists create art places, not necessarily art pieces. Having previously occupied an abandoned swimming pool, and now located in a massive ground level studio space, the experience of Flateurville is always different. A walk through the space leads into perhaps the most serene experience in

Paris: an indoor forest, complete with birds chirping. The entire space has been turned into a dream world where blue flowers and all derivatives of such are melded into the ultimate mindbending experience, oddly reminiscent of Phillip K. Dick's A Scanner Darkly. Should you find yourself in the City of Lights, Flateurville is something that must be seen. Through Flateurville's adventures in art forms and distaste for repetition, new art may find its way back into Paris once again.

All Beanies need Propellers: In Defense of Fantasy as Literature
sara·patterson ., . exist inde endentlY of their players ... Stories, greatjlap~ing ribbons of "People think that stories are shaped by people. Infact, It s the otheruiau a~oundh S~OI'I~S. ift' P And they have evolved. The weakest have died and the shaped space-time, have been blowing and uncoiling around t.heunwerse smc~ t e :;~:~~~~sOtr~~ethe path of the story, the groove runs deeper ..A thousand strongest have survived and they have qroum fat on the retellinq ..A?d every t~~efr . actors have moved, unknowing, through the pathways of ston; .. wolves have eaten grandmother, a thousand princesses have been kissed. A million unknowmg -Terry Pratchett. Witches Abroad
It is debatable, but it appears that "common"

fantasy novels are largely ignored these days. When the word "common" is used in this brief rant, it means recent works; such as Game of Thrones, Thudl, The Historian, Assassin's Shadow 01' whatever else thefuck is associated with Assassins and so on. It means works that take up that dark corner of the book shop, usually placed away from the rest of the browsing populace in order to keep its own sort within their boundaries. Books that are judged to be "fun reads" simply because they are placed in a different universe than ours. If an elf is present then the book is almost inevitably deemed "not serious literature" (read with a posh British accent) unless it was written by an Oxford professor in the late 1930'S and early 1940'S. If a vampire shows up, and the book fails to have a terribly boring epistles section, then it is most certainly not considered literature. Oh no, what we tell to our high school students is that literature must be at least one hundred years old, and written by a dead white gur (or girl), "realistic," about adults, and be serious. What we now call the literary genre consists, as my flatmate, Emily Kellogg put it, "a slush pile of anything that's not genre fiction." This mindset is a damn shame. The use of a fantasy world can be amazing. It can allow for commentary that would be overbearing if done in a real world setting. Fantasy touches something within the human emotion that is often ignored by other great works. It captures the love ofthe fantastic. The endless fascination with the unknown. The would-be's, should-be's, and could-be's ofthe imagination. It allows for escapism in a way that Steinbeck or even Rawling cannot quite reach. I speak of both "high" and "low" fantasy, but for the purpose of this little tangent I will focus on the wonderful Discworld of Terry Pratchett. Over Christmas I decided to procrastinate on my independent study and finally get around to reading the Discworld series by Pratchett. I have a wonderful habit of reading books out of order, I did not intend to break that habit this past Christmas so I began in the middle of the City Watch sub-series of Discworld with Clay Feet and Jingo. (Quick note: for those interested, with City Watch series it is quite easy to read the books out of order. One picks up on Sam Vimes' career changes easily enough.) They were wonderful. Witty, succinct, engaging.

The characters were marvellous and the plots were a joy to follow. Pratchett uses the English language and British humour the way they were meant to be used, bloody brilliantly. I could go on but I won't. What I want to say is this: only a few English teachers would dream of having their class read any of his books. Terry Pratchett, after all, writes fantasy. He writes comedy, he writes about dwarves, werewolves, vampires, city guards, secret passages, witches, and anthropomorphic Death who speaks in all caps. Within the "serious books" schema, he doesn't write serious literature (whatever that is). That, of course, is a lie. "Serious" literature is what you make it. I think Jingo should be read by today's high schoolers and university students and, well, everyone. It's highly relevant to this war torn, pointless hate filled world. The plot, in brief, is that there is a war between Ankh-Morpork [re: the west] and their southern neighbours Klatch [re: the middle east] over a magical island that appears mysteriously in the sea between the two countries. The story follows Commander Sam Vimes of the City Watch as he attempts to stop

movies for this one due out this year), Red Rose, and others, are all constantly being revisited and reworked. That is because they tell a story that needs to be retold. They hold a lesson, or a moral, or a social truth that has not changed, that reaches to the hearts of the audience. The same holds true for modern fantasy. The themes of Clay Feet, Thud!, Hogfather, Jingo, Guards! Guardsl, Night Watch (everyone involved in the Occupy movement should read this one), The Fifth Elephant, Reaper Man, The Truth and so on, are ones that everyone can grasp and will remain relevant for at least another good couple generations. That is, unless we manage to rid the world of war, pointless hate, death (the only truly universal human experience other than birth), racism, religion, politics etc. But I don't see that happening anytime soon. Give fantasy a chance. Treat it as literature, not something to be ashamed of, not something to apologise for. Treat the books as the literary works they are. Yes, there are bad pieces of fantasy. There are bad pieces of "regular" fiction as well. There are bad pieces of writing in general that somehow get printed. That said, stop ignoring fantasy books and relegating them to the realm of greasy, socially inept, thirty five year olds who live in their mother's basements. Many works offantasy and science fiction (not mentioned here since I am not as well versed) deserve better than the musty, far back cornerof the bookshop, and the "it's my guilty pleasure" . (; excuse. They should be taught as legitimate works ofliterature alongside other great authors that grace bookshelves and the NY Times' "Best 100 Works of Literature" lists.

the war and Ankh-Morpork's Patrician Vetinari as he does the same (albeit through a very different means). Predictable chaos and hilarity ensue. But so does poignant commentary on . racism, war, death, and what it means to be Ankh-Morporkian. Pratchett writes the best sort of satires, subtle, ironic, funny, and when you're done reading you think "gosh that was a damn good book and well ..fuck", The fact that he writes in a fantasy world and with a comedic style is more than half the reason he is able to achieve that reaction. I've read many classical and modern novels that Those Who Are In The Know consider as great literature of our time and only a very few have left me really thinking about them in the same way afterwards. The best part about Jingo is that it was written in 1997, well before the modern events that I'm sure we were all thinking of when war bet~een West and Middle East was mentioned. In many ways fantasy can stand the test of time better than most genres. It's not grounded in a certain time period, place, series of events. It's not hampered by ever changing real world social conventions (I'm looking at you Lizzie Bennett). It's not confined to the realities of technology (Verne, Asimov, most Sci-Fi). It's free to do whatever it wants and is able to take a broad idea or social critique and run with it and due to the clothes it's running in, it won't be dated. Lord of th~ Rings has been holding on strongly and it was wntten seventy years ago. Dracula is regularly getting the dust blown off and reworked (some renditions are worse than others) and while the novel is very much stationed in Victorian London, there is enough magic and fantasy to make it work. The openness of the world where hell, if a vampire is chillin' than really an~thing , can happen, ~sits strength. The old fables of King Arth~r, Mt;rhn, Beowulf, Red Ridding Hood, the Arabian Nights-the Faie, Snow White (two new

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This Christmas Eve, I watched a guy get branded. Or rather, watched him brand himself. He sort of stepped into the brand w~ich was a metal coat hanger which m; friend had bent with pliers into an inch-wide "W," ostensibly to represent my first initial. Yes, I had been the originally-intended recipient of the branding. But no, I did not go through with it. I suppose some contextual details are needed. A few days before Christmas Eve, having just returned to my hometown of New We~tminster, B.C. for the holidays, I was having some beers with my buddies. My friend (the would-be brander) and I somehow got on the subject of burns, and I ended up hubristically claiming that getting branded "wouldn't hurt all that much." Now, my friend tends to hold people to their word, and he and I have always delighted in proving each other wrong. In the past, we've had bitter, protracted arguments over things like the movie Gandhi and the meaning of the phrase "a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush." I should have known that my claim about branding'S pain would haunt me. However, despite its origins as a petty argument between friends, the branding, as it occurred, had profound social and psychological significance which, I feel, continues to affect everyone involved. But here I speak only for myself. 'fl_te",:hole ?randing episode took place at a friend s Christmas Eve party, which featured a large backyard bonfire, on whose coals the bra.nd he,ated a~d reddened. When I belatedly arrived, It was immediately clear to me that my friend had been telling people that there was a good chance that I would be branded that night. (I had previously laughed it off when he told me earlier that evening over the phone that "we're branding you tonight." Somehow I thought that he couldn't be serious.) As I entered the backyard there were murmurs from around the bonfire and even a stage-,,:,hisp~r ?f "there he is!" Anticipation, and inebriation, were running high. Now, in my friend the would-be brander's defense, he never unequivocally promised anyone at the party that I would allow myself to ~e branded. He was very tactful about it, saying only that he would brand me with my con~ent and that it should be entirely my choice, But once I arrived, my fellow partygoers became genuinely excited. Their conversation with me, though beginning with some cursory inquiries as to how Toronto is quickly t~lfned the prospect of my bein~ seared WIth the image of my own first initial.

Due to my late arrival I was considerably below the level of intoxication of those around me, and still far too sober to make a decision about letting myself be branded, let alone to endure the immense pain of the process itself. For the record, by this time reality had trumped pride and I was openly proclaiming that my friend was absolutely right: branding probably would hurt. But for those at the party, this was no longer about a trifling bet between two friends. This was about the chance to see their friend- the self-important kid who three years ago made the unforgivable choice to defect from this insular, lacrosse-loving Vancouver suburb to Toronto for university- willingly submit himself to excruciating pain and permanent scarring for no good reason. And if the people wanted a branding, who was I to refuse them one?

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These were the thoughts going through my head over the next half-hour or so. We examined the situation as objectively as we could in the circumstances. Despite the general excitement at the idea, a few people did genuinely seem t_obe weighing my options fairly. Maybe these are the ones who ~have my bests interests at heart. "It would hurt a lot," they said (superfluously), "and the scar will probably never go away. But wouldn't it be badass?" I had to agree: it would be badass. "Especially on Christmas Eve," they said. "getting branded on Christmas Eve is something you'll never forget." True enough. Many people at the party, including some I had never met before, seemed intent on giving me advice in preparation for my branding. Most of the talk centered on which body part I should have marked. I myself was partial to the lower calf: mine aren't too fleshy or sensitive, it wouldn't impede normal functions like sitting or walking, and the "w" scar could be always be covered by pants or at least obscured by my thick leg hair. Another good friend of mine was leading the buttocks contingent. He thought that the butt cheek was the "classic" place to get branded. He was probably right. In the end, it was a chest (but not my chest) that received the red-hot coat hanger. Definitely a tasteful choice, though one that will always demand explanation at pool parties, the beach, the doctor's office, sexual encounters, and elsewhere. But, as it was not my chest, these are not my problems. I gradually came to the decision that I was not going to let myself be branded. However, I couldn't bring myself to dampen the high hopes for a branding, or for that matter, the Christmas spirit of the party. One acquaintance told me that I should hope for the branding to produce a second-degree burn, because that way my nerves would be

burnt away and the pain would be reduced. There was also a debate as to whether my friend was a sadist and I a masochist by participating in a branding, or if we were just settling a disagreement by seeking empirical evidence. Whether it was this kind of talk, the smoke of the bonfire, or the Pabst Blue Ribbon I had been sipping, I began to feel pretty queasy at the idea of being branded. I told my friend (the almost-brander) as much, and he responded, with just a hint of satisfaction, that he always knew that I wasn't going to go through with it. At this point I found myself embroiled in a very brief competition over who would get branded, which I very quickly and very wisely allowed myself to lose. Someone else at the party had volunteered to receive the branding, allegedly saying (with apparent nonchalance) "If you guys need someone to brand, I guess you can always do me." I had never met this guy before, or asked him to get my initial burned on his skin, but he seemed perfectly willing to do so. His only condition was that it had to happen soon. I guess he needed to leave early, it of course being Christmas Eve. At this point, my friend the original would-be brander backed out. "I don't know this guy well enough to brand him," he explained. Does anyone know anyone well enough to brand anyone? was my thought. Now, I'm used to feeling emasculated and to watching from the sidelines as other people engaged in ostensibly "manly" or "daring" activities. Worry not, I'm aware of "the gendered binaries" into which I'm buying.

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One friend, whom I had not seen for over a year, greeted me with "I heard we're branding you tonight." I was apprehensive, at best.

This. probab!y has its roots in my sportsabstl?ent childhood, but I have no pretenses to be~ng a psychoanalyst. I've always erred on the Sl?e .of ca?tion. Even as recently as a bout of . ch~f-Jumpmg last summer, I prudently (wimpishlyv) elected to stay in the canoe as my fellow cot,tage-goers, including my host's ro-year-old sister, threw themselves off the rock-~ace again and again. These moments of cho.osmg th.e safe, expected, so-called "wise" option are mevitably followed by feelings of regret, s.ham~, ~nd childishness. Why couldn't I have Just joined lacrosse when I had the ch~n?e? I'm surely not alone in wondering ~hlS in my hometown. Why couldn't I have Just learned to skate the bowl at the skate?ark? More troublingly, why couldn't I have Just kissed the girl, applied to Ivy League schools, and jumped off the damn cliff?

Whether this indignant paranoia, if given time to fester, would have ultimately resulted in me getting branded, we will never know. With the same nonchalance with which he originally volunteered, the branded-to-be quietly announced that he had to leave soon, undid the top two buttons of his pale-blue oxford shirt and approached the bonfire. There was a do-it-yourself tattoo of the letter "D" -his first initial-near his neck. Clearly, this person was no stranger to voluntary, initials-based pain. My host, sensing urgency, bent down to extract the coat hanger from the embers. It all happened fairly quickly; very few people were watching. My friend, the visionary of the branding, the maker of the brand, and the winner of our little bet, was in the washroom at the time and missed seeing it. Just desserts, I say, for marring an otherwise festive and carefree Christmas Eve party with the scourge of machismo-driven skin burning.
As for the branding itself, I'd say it was fairly

disturbing. The brander's hand wasn't steady, so when the red-hot W first made contact with the skin, it slid around sizzlingly. The volunteer stepped forward into the brand, which settled into a spot on his right pectoral.

--

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h b and sunk far into With sickening ease, t e r h ps a half. ki a groove per a his ~kin, rna 109 The skin around the WcentImeter deep. b bbling intensely, and s~aped f fu~~;\,;a:ue:S was interstitial fluid hnes a w d After a few seconds, dripped from the woun . removed a my host pulled the b~~n:n~:ai~rge bandage . small t?be of Polys~~n and began ministering from h!s. chest p~cde_~st inflicted. While I can to the lD)Ury ~e e~e~t in great detail ~ow, I remember t e . I rs will stick with me know that ~o the rest. The first is long afte~l ve f f t~e victim's face throughout the blan ess a starin straight ahead, the whole process: e~es . g ki d to the d or reactlOn of any n . no soun . hi h he was surely feelmg. immense pal~e~i1ICbound for my long-t~rm The second h 11 I had never reahzed mary was t e sme . . 11 me .. b . human skin sme s to a how similar ummg steak on the grill

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