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November 15th Post
November 15th Post
November 15th Post
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upfront
Editor- and Editrix-in-Chief Clayton Aldern Jennie Young Carr Managing Editor of Features Zo Hoffman Managing Editor of Arts & Culture Alexa Trearchis Managing Editor of Lifestyle Rmy Robert Features Editor Kathy Nguyen Arts & Culture Editors Claire Luchette Ben Resnik Lifestyle Editor Cassie Packard Serif Sheriff Clara Beyer Hamburger Helper Allison Hamburger Large Plaid Asian Phil Lai Staff Writers Lily Goodspeed Caitlin Kennedy Adam Davis Mintaka Angell Staff Illustrators Marissa Ilardi Madeleine Denman Adela Wu Sheila Sitaram
contents
3 upfront
a broad abroad in paris // caroline bologna beyond bffs // ashton strait
editors note
Next week, we offer our deepest thank yous and most grateful merci beaucoups. Also a Dankeschn to our one German reader. Heres looking at you, kinder. We impart our thanks and our leftover gravy. Just wanted to put that out there. Moving on.
4 features
bridging the gap // mintaka Were more interested in Nicole Westbrooks Its Thanksgiving. For Post-s sake, shes singing angell
into a f*cking turkey leg. Shes plucky! Not only does she create a makeshift microphone from a hunk of poultry, she hosts a Thanksgiving dinner for six fellow orphans (and a middle-aged man in a turkey costume) at the tender age of twelve. Did we mention that sick Fourth of July barbecue? Put us on your guest list, Nicole! We dont remember the last time we enjoyed something non-mind-altering as much as she relishes crossing off the 28th on her countdown-to-Thanksgiving calendar. We also dont get invited to many parties. Most people ask, Why? But Post- asks, Why not? Let the girl revel in her newfound fame and deal with the nuclear fallout in her mid-thirties. Shes a tweeny-bopper. Live in the moment. When else are we-we going to have as good a time as it appears shes having? Remember, its Thanksgiving: Nothing is forbidden. appreciatively and ailuromantically,
7 lifestyle
til pumpkingdom come // jane brendlinger orgasm elysium // MM
8 lifestyle
the reign of yolo // swan ronson post- it notes top ten
illustrations by
Cover Kah Yangni A Broad Abroad in Paris Marissa Ilardi Bridging the Gap Sheila Sitaram A Battle of Wits Adela Wu Til Pumpkingdom Come Madeleine Denman Giraffe Phil Lai
surrealism
upfront
ican counterpartsthe female counterparts, that is. Their fashion sense doesnt help their case. While the clean-cut look and attention to detail are pleasant, the excess of scarves, shiny shoes, and soft sweaters is a bit feminine for my taste. And then there are the text messages. Long, enthusiastic, dramatic, and brimming with emoticons, theyre a little much. Maybe the American college hookup scene has conditioned me to expect so little from guys that I unfairly cast aside interested French men as, well, creepy. Or maybe they genuinely are effeminate and a tad overbearing. Either way, I found it hard to see anything appealing in these gems of messages: :) cest moi Cecylien! Encore une fois enchant davoir fait ta connaissance!!! :) its me Cecylien! Once again enchanted to have met you!!! TU MAS OUBLI :( YOU HAVE FORGOTTEN ME :( faut quon se voit Depuis que je tes vue en boite de nuit Et que je tes embrasse jai quune envie cest
de te revoir tu mas vraiment plu We must see each other ... Since I saw you in the nightclub And I kissed you, I have but one desire, thats to see you again I really liked you :) Je suis pas du genre aller voir les filles! Mais tu ma donn envie de faire un effort :p tu vie o :) ? :) Im not the type to go up to girls! But you made me want to make an effort :p where do you live :) ? Nevertheless, it is possible to find love in Paris, at least for a night. If you find yourself in a club off the Champs-lyses dancing with a friendly Parisian guy in a deep, deep V-neck, dont be surprised if he starts making out with you, pulls away, and whispers in an accent, French kiss. Its cheesy, but laugh and enjoy the fun romance in the City of Love anyway. When he sends you a text the next morning with more emoticons than a middle school girl would use, feel free to let the illusion shatter and the testosterone-deprived reality set in. Ah, cest la vie. Illustration by Marissa Ilardi
beyond bffs
ASHTON STRAIT contributing writer
One of my housemates introduced me to a new relationship term this summer: queerplatonic. Anyone can be in a queerplatonic relationship, regardless of his or her genital preference. The queer- in queerplatonic refers not to queer in the LGBTQ+ sense but to the queering of traditional platonic relationship structures, which essentially means that they subvert typical aromantic paradigms. Queerplatonic relationships distinguish themselves because they transcend the type of emotional and physical intimacy considered de rigueur for conventional friendships, while remaining aromantic and asexual. At the end of a tough day, just friends might simply hug, whereas a queerplatonic couple is more likely to crawl right into bed together without thinking twice. Think Hannah and Marnie from Girls rather than Rachel and Monica from Friends. The former pairs friendship is an excellent example of a queerplatonic relationship, even if they might not label it that. Girls opens with a shot of Hannah and Marnie asleep in bed together, limbs entwined, and quickly moves to a scene in which they share a shower with nary a whiff of sexual tension or intent. These first scenes act as a kind of toe-in-the-water introduction to this brave new world in Brooklyn, a place
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discussions or perspectives and doesnt push them outside of their comfort zone. Education is more than learning how to manipulate data or closely read a text. Its about ensuring that youre an engaged, informed individual able to understand the context and significance of your choices on a personal, communal and global level. This is not a skill that comes from a consuming immersion in one subject. There have, however, been numerous attempts to bridge this disciplinary gap around the Brown campus, not least of which is the Brown/RISD Arts and Sciences Rendevous lecture series. Over the semester, the group has brought in speakers to initiate an interdisciplinary conversation through projects that resonate together. Supported by the Creative Mind Initiative, which encourages collaborations and creative confluence between the arts and sciences through a multitude of other initiatives, their discussion on September 20 included presentations by Jim Head, a professor of geological sciences at Brown, and Jenny Brown, the Collection Manager of the Glass Flowers collection at the Harvard Museum of Natural History. Head was particularly eloquent in his lecture, his appreciation for the beauty of art and science working in tandem. Focusing on space exploration, he strode onto the stage and flung picture after gorgeous, marbled picture of Mars rock formations on the board, comparing them to stained glass windows. I have no idea how some of these were formed, he said with a grin, completely infatuated with the turns and grain of the stone. Strongly resonant in his lecture was the note that working with art and humanities students, especially from RISD, gave him more reason to continue his scientific explorations. RISD students, he said, show me what Im looking at in a broader contextnot just the strata, but
the beauty. This is what compels us to go and explore and try to understand these other worlds. His words illustrate the point that society cannot function without the arts and sciences working together. At the end of the day, the question of which kind of education is better is moot. We attend university to learn how to thinkboth the sciences and the arts give us the tools we need to achieve this goal. Tearing down other disciplines does nothing but eliminate incredible opportunities to synthesize knowledge and create something new. The Glass Flowers collection at Harvard is a series of 3,000 models of botanical plants, made entirely by a father-son duo out of blown glass in the 19th and 20th centuries. These objects do more than represent a convergence of disciplines to create a work of beauty that has been used in academic study for decades; they show an innate understanding of how the sciences and humanities can integrate in a way that is increasingly rare. Perhaps the concept of an education in anything and everything is no longer feasibleperhaps it never has been. But in this new culture of specification, discounting other philosophies based on your own inevitably narrow perspective spurns the possibilities that arise from working with people in other spheres of knowledge. Whether your passion is Nabokov, thermodynamics, or the market structure in developing economies, we are all working towards the same ideals of truth and a better understanding of what surrounds us. The Glass Flowers collection did not arise from a debate over whose work was more valuable, but an understanding of synthesisof moving forward together. Illustration by Sheila Sitaram
he cant wait for the chance to throw a big fancy wedding. (He puts on a lavish affair pretend-marrying Shania and her fourth grade classmate, an apparent effusion of marriage angst that comes off as overly linear and quite strange.) Though Warner was most concerned with marriage, parenthood is what this show suggests would make David and Bryan fully normal. Not having children, more than marital status or even sexuality, separates David from his doctor pals. When David tells them he is planning to have a child, they recoil in horror. Not because they dont believe gay people should have children, but because they cannot believe hes giving up the freedom that comes with childlessness. But the shows endorsement of childrenmore precisely, the desire to have themis beyond doubt. The show is not about a gay couple. The show is about a gay couple who wants to have a baby, who wants to start a family. Just consider the change that Bryan undergoes when serious issues of parenthood arise. Recall the shows opening, when he becomes instantly recognizable and sympathetic as an expectant parent, preparing a message for his unborn child, scared out of his mind but happy and excited. The only other time Bryan is so earnest is in the third episode, after a man calls him and David disgusting while they shop for baby clothes. Again, Bryan is thinking about his child, worrying aloud that his kid might someday witness the same hatred. Like the opening sequence, this scene is poignant. What is disconcerting, though, is that parenthood serves as the mechanism through which Bryan is redeemed. He transitions from the silly gay man to the parent worthy of our admiration and respect. The idea that gay people might be most sympathetic as parents is, of course, nothing new. When President Obama is asked about gay rights, he usually talks about families. Of course, gay people who wish to marry should be able to marry. Of course, gay people who wish to have children should have the right to adopt or to use surrogates. But what about those who do not wish to marry or have children? Or those who are not white, wealthy suburbanites? Is the new normal big enough for them, too? Shows like this one direct our sympathy toward certain people. Others, as Warner predicted, are left out.
a battle of wits
LAUREN NEAL 11 returning writer
In early 2009, in the wake of Barack Obamas historic inauguration, a table at the Ratty hosted a few friends and one slumping sophomore (me) for lunch. The group repartee primarily involved talk of racial representation in the media; we were convulsing with laughter quoting every television show wed watched as kids that featured characters of color. We debated what a TV show documenting the lives of Black students at Brown would look like. My friends and I became so involved we were late to class. The 2008 presidential race had purported to forever erase the conversation about race in the United States, but here a conversation about race compelled me and Nick White 10 to create Spicy Wit, a satirical, mockumentary-style study of race relations in the Ivy League. By day, Nick and I crafted characters and pitched plot lines, trying our hands at painting a Technicolor picture of Black student life at Brown. At night, I needed to put a cap on the cranial complications caused by my nascent liaison with race; I set out to scramble my brain and made a colossal, Pollock-esque mess so sloppy and sophomoric that I put my education in jeopardy. Prior to that year, Id easily passed for every race but Black; by the end of spring semester, an endless, belligerent parade of blacked-out partying made it so I could barely pass my classes. During the summer that followed, I faced the looming prospect of suspension from the University. This wasnt supposed to happen to someone like me. Waiting for course grades to clear and a deans final call, I could do little to placate my solitary, pulsating anxiety but pour it all into a scalding, 35-page script for the pilot episode of Spicy Wit. I had to get back to Brown. College Hill ultimately re-welcomed me, and I was back on track for junior year and only a little black and blue from summers standstill. Nick and I tried to produce Spicy Wit on campus, but scheduling issues forced us to scrap production. I never told anyone how close Id come to scrapping my Brown career. I was too chicken. In May of 2011, I graduated on time. Carrying nothing but two suitcases, I moved cross-country to California. I couldnt wait to kick the comfort of Browns campus, to fly the coop and spread my wings. Months later, I was habitually pretending that hunger builds character. On particularly delirious days, I feigned my diet was necessary preparation for a dramatic film role sure to simultaneously launch me into stardom and bring me to the mysterious basket in the sky where someone mustve been keeping all the eggs. In spite of all my calculated intellect, clever quips, and crisp pedigree, I could not get a job. Retail, publishing, hospitality no one would hire me. Brown offered no classes teaching how to make a checking account balance of exactly $0.09 gain interest. Shouldve done a GISP. I walked three blocks to my local El Pollo Loco, a road I wouldve preferred to keep less traveled. I filled out the application in the puke-pink plastic booth nearest the window emblazoned with a snazzy decal: Now Hiring! I could only assume the managerial staff found me under-qualified for any open position. I didnt go Loco until after I realized the restaurant chain was never going to call me back. Logically, I couldnt make the idea of an Ivy League graduate on food stamps compute. But because Brown so diligently acclimates its students to acronyms, I was more comfortable living the EBT life than I thought Id be, and I wasnt ready to raise a white flag. That is, until last October. Up to this point, everyone with whom I spoke commended me for movingjust four days after graduationto a completely
lifestyle
Chipotle Fire-Roasted Pumpkin Soup It was the type of single-minded determi- (Is the word fire doing anything nation that one often associates with Adderall for you?) Roasted Pumpkin Pure
abuse or Soviet Russia. The Great Pumpkin Massacre, as my housemates remembered all the days it took for the roasted squashy smell to finally waft out of our kitchen. I was a maniac with a chopping knife, the food processor on a constant low roar. I wasnt counting the hours, but when I found myself popping pumpkin muffins into the oven around 1 a.m., I knew it might be time to give up the ghost. Around me lay the remains of my madness. Stringy innards, thick pumpkin stems on the dining room table. Seeds, salted and toasted. Bowls and bowls of pure. My shirt was splattered, and my hands had adopted the sickly orange pallor of a carrot addict. I didnt finish reading Their Eyes Were Watching God in time for class discussion. And by the end of the week, I was sick of pumpkin. But after all this, I think I learned something. Something about the human spirit, something about perseverance, something about Halloween. I learned that the $1.50 it costs for a can of pumpkin at the grocery is, indeed, worth it. But I also learned that whatever effort you put into the pumpkin, the pumpkin will return it tenfold. The Great Pumpkin givethand giveth and giveth. Illustration by Madeleine Denman
Ingredients: 4 cups roasted pumpkin pure 1 onion, diced 4 cloves garlic, minced 3 cups vegetable stock olive oil, for sauteing 1 tbsp Chipotle adobo sauce (from a can of packed peppers, found in Mexican food section) ground ginger, to taste 2 tbsp maple syrup salt and pepper, to taste Saute onion and garlic in olive oil until onions are translucent. Add pumpkin, vegetable stock, and seasoning, and let simmer 20 minutes. Pure until smooth in food processor, working in batches. Let the slow warmth of this soup soothe you, perhaps to assuage your anxiety about the reading you skipped to make it.
Ingredients: 1 whole pumpkin Cut out the stem and cut pumpkin in half lengthwise. Scrape out the stringy seed mess with a spoon. Reserve seeds for toasting. Place halves, within their skins, insides-up on a baking sheet. Brush with olive oil. Bake at 350 degrees for an hour to an hour and a half. Poke with fork to check doneness. When soft, remove from oven and let cool. Scrape the roasted pumpkin into a food processor, and process until smooth. Use in place of canned pumpkin, perhaps in the following recipe for soup.
orgasm elysium
n. a sovereign state populated entirely by erotically satisfied, empowered, and considerate sexual citizens
MM sexpert
uncross. America felt its collective libido increase. After all, what better way to celebrate the protection of our reproductive rights than to exercise them? Step Two: Safe Sex. Romneys plan for improving the nation included repealing and replacing Obamacare, removing its provisions for contraceptive coverage, withdrawing funding from Planned Parenthood, and maybe even rescinding Roe v. Wade. During the same term, he planned on creating jobs, making selective tax cuts, and stimulating the economy. He did not plan on stimulating our genitals, howeverthat is, providing us a supportive culture where we can pursue the stimulation of those genitals safely, comfortably, and freely. I know: Im preaching to a choir of mostly Democratic voters. But lets not forget how lucky we are to be able to drive down to a Planned Parenthood and pick up a condom or refill a prescription for birth control with just a flash of our insurance cards, or get tested for HPV without dishing out a co-pay. These issues arent just abstract social ideals; they have real effects on our experience of intimacy and pleasure. We deserve to enjoy sex, not spend the whole experience worrying about contracting an STI or accidentally fertilizing an egg. Good sex is safe, consensual, and pleasurable sex. Step Three: Educated Sex. After stating his opposition to abstinence-only sex education, Mitt Romney went on to state his support of abstinence-only sex education. He even put such a program into effect in Massachusetts middle schools. While abstinenceonly sex education programs have received funding (even increased funding) under the Obama administration, the president has been vocally opposed to the notion, proposing a budget in 2009 that would eliminate funding to these programs and reallocate it to teen pregnancy prevention programs. While we cant let Obama off the hook for allowing millions of dollars to pass into the allegedly celibate hands of abstinence-only health teachers, we can trust that hell allow for more comprehensive sex education programs in the next four years than Romney would have. The effects of comprehensive sex education on young peoples sex lives are manifold, tangible, and predictable. Getting informationon how to use a condom or do a breast self-exam or ask partners whether theyve been testedallows us to make educated decisions. Knowledge regarding bodies and options, desires and aversions, risks and benefits, allows us to be more intentional and deliberate about sex. But it also allows us to be better partners: to bring information, intentionality, and care to anothers body. If Obama reduces funding for abstinence-only sex education in these next four years, we can expect fewer teen pregnancies, fewer abortions, and potentially even less sexual assault. In short, better sex for more people. Step Four: Self-Perpetuating Pleasure. The effects of Steps One through Three, if they are maintained and supported, are extensive and long-term. Fast forward 30 years, when the future progeny of our citizens (conceived deliberately by celebratory sexual partners shortly after Obamas reelection), after practicing safe sex for many years and having undergone a comprehensive sex education program, decide to have children. These children, whose parents know firsthand the benefits of safety and education, are likely to go on to have safe and educated sex. And sexual empowerment and pleasure spreads from person to person (kind of the way an STI would in a less safe and educated community). Before you know it, everyones making informed, communicative, and ultimately pleasurable choices about their private parts. Step Five: Gratitude Sex. OK, were getting pretty hypothetico here. In this forecast, Im giving the Obama administration a little more creditentrusting it with a little more idealistic faiththan it has really earned, based on last terms various shortcomings and disappointments. But lets go just one step further into my fallopianer, utopian reverie. Steps One through Fourin the event they are achieved by the whole of societyimply a fifth, final step, a kind of societal, interpersonal, pudendal climax. I call this last step Gratitude Sex, or the kind of sex that characterizes an educated, liberated, and supported citizenry. Its the kind of sex happy people have to consummate their happiness. Its the kind of sex that doesnt involve shame, or repression, or miscommunication, or danger, or undesired results. Its the kind of sex that celebrates this freedom. Obamas reelection means that Americans are going to have four years of better sex than they would have had under Romney. Americanswith the possible exception of Ann Romneyare going to have millions more orgasms than they would have. A greater percentage of Americans will be born to excited and intentional parents, and will go on to have excited and intentional sex lives. I believe that. Generally, I dont think hyperboles like these further the cause of good journalism. But since these claims are pretty much untestableand since Im still experiencing election euphoriaI feel justified in making them. However, as we learned from the presidents last term in office, social change is gradual. It happens in stages. If the Obama administration is to improve the sexual satisfaction of its citizens, change will happen in several complex steps. Step One: Relief Sex. It stands to reason that if Obama won the popular vote, then a majority of Americans experienced pleasure at his victory. For me, the realization that my reproductive rights will remain my own, that I can continue to get mammograms and pap smears from Planned Parenthood, and that my president believes that womens healthcare should be affordableand should include access to contraceptives and domestic violence counselinggave me a great sense of reassurance. And after the better part of America heaved a collective sigh of relief, the better part of America felt its collective jaw unclench, its stomach unknot, and its thighs
upfront
hugs on drugs
and discover that Facebook is full of photographic evidence of the shitstorm you survived. Marijuana: Weed probably isnt the first thing that comes to mind for most students who want to explore romance in Browntown, but they are thoroughly missing out. While alcohol is responsible for most DFMOs, nothings more intimate than passing a joint or sharing a bong. All that smoke makes you feel like deconstructing every thought youve ever had, and the process of attempting to do so can actually be really special and, dare I say, romantic. Passing the peace pipe is an activity that naturally lends itself to smaller groups and a less hectic setting than WhisCo. These safe, contained situations are more conducive to building lasting connections than alcohol is. Even though some of the babble that comes out of your mouth might be utterly nonsensical, chances are youre in a safe environment where your nonsense is not only tolerated but celebrated. Just be careful: Sleepiness is sure to immediately follow. MDMA: Ive unknowingly been around some friends who were rolling on MDMA. At the time, I just assumed everyone was really happy to see me and really comfortable telling me how much they loved meand how everything is SO AWESOME AND BEAUTIFUL AND THE BEST. Later, as I waited for my own sample to kick in between Spring Weekend acts, I was skeptical. Youre telling me this is going to make me feel like everything is perfect and beautiful? Like everyone has an amazing soul? Okay, sure Oh my god, everything is beautiful. I love everyone. I am so, so full of love. What should we do? Should we hug? Lets hug. I want to find our friends so I can tell them I love them. The effect of MDMA isnt like that of beer goggles. Theres a flood of powerful and positive emotions toward all mankind, without the subsequent need to vomit and stumble home. It also feels more significant than the cavemanmust-mate instincts alcohol seems to unleashtheres more of an emphasis on realizing how unique and valuable your people are. Cocaine: Ive seen enough gangster movies to know that people get shot over cocaine, and since Ive never wanted to get shot, I never really wanted to do cocaine before. But when the opportunity came up during the Reign of YOLO, I did. Even though I was surrounded by plenty of interesting, attractive people, I couldnt sit still long enough to make eye contact. I had a one-track mind focused on dancing, walking, chewing. Standing still and talking to someone? No thanks, Im already sashaying awaydoes anyone have gum? I wish I had some unforgettable story from that night, but I was too busy moving and hoping my heart didnt explode to do anything all that memorable. I left a cozy Texan life for an education in Providence, and Ive made damn sure I got it. While some (namely my parents) might frown upon my behavior, I know that ultimately these experiences and the people Ive met through them have taught me more about myself than I could ever learn in a classroom. College is a time for experimentation, in every sense of the word. Theres no better time to try to figure out who you areand who or what brings out the best in you.
music is film is tv is
looking forward to the Skyfall porno remake: Guyballs. wanting a baby. getting goosebumps from R.L. Stine tonight.
books is food is
dusting off lactic acid crystals from aged Gouda. mixing rum with a free Coke (but not with the free iPods) from the Ratty vending machine.
booze is
weekend five
Paradiso: Friday at 10PM. Buxton.
1. Hat dog had puppies. 2. Rim Jobs at the Alehouse, and rim jobs at the Alehouse. 3. Not Uncle Tim. 4. Baby Jesus. 5. Chocolate bourbon pecan pie. 6. The Trader Joes frozen food section. 7. The imminent BDH banquet! 8. Victory over the turkey menace. 9. Our dinosaur overlords.
Fall Into Theta: Saturday at 12:30PM. The Underground. Latin American Student Organization Presents: GoLASO!: Saturday at 10PM. Machado. Church: Sunday, at Church. Wear nice slacks. Maybe there will be donuts after. The wafers are neither vegan nor gluten free. The wine is 2 percent alcohol ... and 98 percent blood.
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