Cesium Issue 2: The Razor Issue

CESIUM m a g a z i n e Ar t • Media • Culture • Politics

(The Razor Issue)

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CESIUM m a g a z i n e

Vol 1. Issue 2. January/March 2006 Editor-in-Chief Adam Moore Assistant Editor Brooke Orcutt Art Director Andy Sommer Graphic Design Consultant Maria Moore Business Director Elizabeth Schmitz Main Office 1903 Merner Avenue Cedar Falls, IA 50613 Tel: (319) 210-0951 Website www.Cesium-Online.com Proudly hosted by Angelfire

Purchasing Issues are five (5) dollars each. Please send check or money order made to “CESIUM MAGAZINE” to the main office address above. Make sure to include your name and address. Purchasing also available online with a Visa or Mastercard and PayPal (preferred). Please direct any other sales or advertising queries to [email protected] Submissions are always welcomed. Please look at the submission guidelines on our website before sending your work. Cesium Magazine is published quarterly We would like to thank the University of Northern Iowa Department of English and the Department of Art for their support. Copyright 2006 by Cesium Magazine. All rights reserved. Reproduction in whole or in part without written authorization is prohibited. Printed in the United States of America by Cedar Graphics Inc. Please support independent publishing

(table of contents) Mis•cel•la•nea From the editor Contibutors Correspondance Upcoming Events

6 7 8 35

Art Flowers, Sobriety, Out of Town Checks and Questions Like So What 9

Fiction by Lewis DeJong. A flower delivery driver searches for more than an address. Swimming in the Nervepool 13 Ben Timmons explores Ebon Fisher’s recent exhibit at the UNI Art Gallery. Roommate Wanted 19 Fiction by Jim O’Loughlin.

Me•di•a Audibles

20 Brian Tambascio reviews three albums from Neil Diamond, James Blunt and Mice Parade. Why I Love Project Runway 21 Essay by Scott Freeh, on his newly discovered love of designing. Return to the Cult 23 Brian Tambascio returns to the cult hit, Bottle Rocket.

Cul•ture In Search of Bennifer

24 Essay by Janice Houlihan, looking for the origins and politics of name combination. Erasing the Razor 27 Essay by Paul C. Middleton. What lengths will we go to in order to leave shaving behind?



Pol•i•tics Plain Speaking

Why



29 T. Dalley Waterhaus takes a rare look at the Bush administration’s successes. No News is Good News 32 Essay by Paul C. Middleton. How the modern media divides us all.

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(from the editor)

I was watching the Super Bowl, along with 90 million other viewers, when an advertisement for the new Gillette Fusion came on. At first I was convinced it was a joke, or quite possibly a low-grade hoax. I rubbed my eyes, and then checked the alcohol content of the beer in my hand, but quickly realized it was true. For those of you that missed this engineering marvel, I should explain. A five blade razor. Five blades. For years upon years, the two blade razor reigned supreme after thouroghly throttling the single blade razor (and barber shop shaves) into submission. And then in 1998, Gillette unveiled the three blade razor and shaving purists around the world cried blasphemy. Three blades were sure to shred our faces and increase the irritation. However, despite the temporary uproar and worry, men settled into this new tool for combating the five o’ clock shadow, and it worked beautifully. Later on, four blades debuted without much fanfare, but now we have five blades, and an almost unlimited ability to remove the uppermost epidural layer on our faces. And thus, with such potent inspiration on my side, and new Gillette stock in my portfolio, The Razor Issue was born. I’m hoping that this issue operates like a fivebladed implement criss-crossing your hot lathered face, leaving you a bit torn up at the seams, but overall, quite refreshed. You might even experience some irritation, but mis•cel•la•ne•a / 

trust me, that’s perfectly normal for such a sharp issue. I could keep going with the corny razor analogies (we’re trimming away the unnecessary fluff and leaving you with nothing but smooth writing?), but you’re smart, and I’m sure you get the point. Or have stopped listening anyway. As for the proof in the pudding, we’re proud to give you an ecclectic variety of writing, from a look at the artwork of Ebon Fisher to an exploration of the Bennifer phenomenon to T. Dalley Waterhaus’ admittance that the Bush administration might actually be doing something right. It’s shaped up to be a fine issue, and we plan to give you more of what you’ve come to expect from Cesium and our brand new website, www.cesium-online.com. If you’re new to the magazine, give us a read (or three) and keep an open mind. If you’ve been with us since our humble beginnings, thanks for sticking around. Hopefully we’ll hear from you, no matter what category you fall into. So sit back with your favorite can of Barbasol, and get ready for some razor-sharp writing (that was the last one, I promise).



Adam Moore Editor-in-Chief

(Contributors) Because everyone deserves their 15 minutes.

Brian Tambascio remains our resident media contributor, despite the fact that he can’t seem to get his reviews done on time. He attends the University of Iowa.

Scott Freeh wrote about his undying love for Bravo’s Project Runway. “It’s definitely not the manliest show to watch, but TiVo doesn’t love me any less for it.” He is currently a student at the University of Iowa, and professes to having, “Olympic fever.”

Jim O’Loughlin teaches English at the University of Northern Iowa and is the publisher of Final Thursday Press. His recent fiction appears in the North American Review, The Sink, and Living Forge.

Ben Timmons explored Ebon Fisher’s world in “Swimming in the Nervepool.” “It was a surreal experience; seeing giant organs made me realize how big my liver probably is by now.” He is a student in the University of Northern Iowa’s art department.

T. Dalley Waterhaus applauded Republicans for once in “Plain Speaking.” “Seriously, don’t get used to this,” he reminds us. He spends his time in Boston, thinking about politics way too much.

Lewis DeJong is a undergraduate English major at UNI. He is planning on doing graduate and postgraduate work in Creative Writing. In the shower, he sings sad songs.

Paul C. Middleton wrote two articles for us in this issue, and goes to school in Madison, Wisconsin. He regrets he has nothing witty to include for the contributors secton.

Janice Houlihan is a writer/gossip fiend attending New York University. In her spare time, she cleans up after her boyfriend, and hopes he gets this hint.

mis•cel•la•ne•a / 

(Correspondance) Who doesn’t love getting mail? Except when it’s ripping you a new one. The 1968 election between Humphrey and Nixon was said to be one of the “widest-ever” margins in history (“Plain Speaking”, Sep/Dec 2005). It was actually a fairly close margin, and Nixon’s win over McGovern in 1972 was considered a landslide. Also, technically Gerald Ford was never elected; he got the job after his boss quit. A fun fact; he was the only person to be elected to neither the Vice Presidency nor the Presidency. Perhaps you might look into hiring a fact checking department. -J. Fisher • Davenport, IA The story, “Surviving Lillian,” by Chuck Dooley (Sep/Dec 2005) was listed as fiction. But I definitely think this has to be an error, because I once dated a girl named Lilly who broke all the windows on my Jeep Liberty with my own golf clubs after I broke up with her. You may want to ask Chuck if he’s ever been to LA. -Nick Hamilton • Los Angeles, CA Glad to see The Big Lebowski finally represented for being the masterpiece that it is (“Return to the Cult”, Sep/Dec 2005). Thanks. Maybe we could get a piece on Raising Arizona? -Paul Seawell • Cedar Rapids, IA You gave the latest album from Sigur Ros a lower rating than an album featuring a masked rapper who collaborates with late-night cartoons (www.cesium-online.com)? I think we’ve found the editorial taste level. -Jenny K. • Framingham, MA Hey, what up? Don’t know who I’m writing to and I don’t give a damn! This website is very pleasurable... I liked the magazine and would like to get in on the next. If you down, come get down! If not, two fingers. Peace. -Chauncy S. • Cedar Falls, IA Chuck Dooley’s piece about the college students chugging milk for lack of better things to do (“Challenging the Gallon”, Sep/Dec 2005) sounded absolutely painful. You might want to make sure politicians don’t read that, or else we’ll get an age requirement placed on dairy purchases. Oh, and by the way, the fact that there were no females participating just goes to show you which one is the smarter sex. -Tara Nichols • New York, NY Make sure to write us at [email protected] with all your comments, gripes or corrections. Letters may (or may not) be edited for clarity or content. Readers who have correspondance selected will receive a pat on the back for being ambitious. mis•cel•la•ne•a / 

(Flowers, Sobriety, Out of Town Checks, and Questions Like So What) Fiction by Lewis DeJong We start our story with a young man, Sal Murte, driving his van toward the bank. It is Friday and dangerously close to the bank’s closing time. He scribbles an amount on the check and his name on the back as he hustles inside just in time. It is the last check he will send as his summer and his summer job are now over. Of the money he made, over half went out of town in check form—checks with empty memos. What a worthless summer he had, toiling in a van with nothing to show for it but half of his salary and a fading tan. In order to understand how futile a summer it was, we must go back to the beginning of it and see what transpired. In early May it was arranged that Sal would get a job at the local flower delivery store. He would be given a uniform, a decal for his van, and a list of instructions and expectations. It would be an easy job that he enjoyed doing; it was something to pass his time. Plus, there was joy in bringing people joy. “I am literally bringing people joy,” he would say, even though he was figuratively bringing them joy and literally bringing them flowers. Nonetheless, he would enjoy it and made several friends at work, friends that would invite him out for drinks. He would go, of course, although he would not drink—he refused. His handsome sobriety, however, would catch the attention of the bartenders, especially one brunette named Ashley. She would flirt with him even though he would not show interest at first. She persisted still, hoping he would eventually cave, and he finally did—throwing his arm around her shoulder. They would go, ironically, to the bar that she worked at, with the same people that were usually there. The only difference on the weekend was that Sal’s new girlfriend would not be working, but rather taking Sal into poorly-lit areas of the bar where she would sit on his lap and copy what actors would do when they were supposed to be in love. She would ride with him on deliveries. They would hold hands and rest them on the cup holders. They would choose radio stations together, singing the

art / 

songs like duets. He would let her steal a flower from the Then, they would waste time just looking at the flowers and bouquets with two dozen, though not from single dozen talking about anything that distracted them from what they spreads. She would smile and smell it thankfully. After work, should be doing. the van would sway under a tree alongside the road leading “You remind me of my son,” the man said gruffly up to her stepfather’s impressive house. Then, after a while and paternally. He stirred a drink, just by moving the longer, the van would rock back and forth. He would fill his glass. He offered Sal a cocktail of his own, but Sal refused hands with her body—breasts, ass, anything. She would to drink. lean into him, and then recoil only to lean in further. “Well, thanks. I never got to know my real dad. I “I want you,” she would call, scratching his chest. was put up for adoption right away.” I hardly know you, is what he wanted to reply but The old man rolled up his sleeve and showed Sal he could not be in the throes of young lust and sensible at Murte his arm. Right at the elbow, but at the inside—where the same time. So he just closed his eyes and mimicked a junkie would have a mark—the old man had a birthmark her cries. in the shape of a cursive, uppercase Q, which meant it also Memorial Day came around and Sal went to go looked like a poorly drawn 2. “You got one of these?” he pick up Ashley—they were going to spend the holiday said, pointing to the dark symbol. together. He could see the streaked cheeks as soon as she Sal did the same to his sleeve and pointed to a opened the door, and he knew that something was wrong. birthmark at the same place. “Yeah, I do,” he said in matter “Is something wrong?” he asked as he they trudged down- which reflected a number of emotions: incredulity, anxiety, stairs to talk. distaste, excitement, care, but none more than tranquility. “I’m pregnant.” “I saw it when you first came in; I didn’t have to see “Is it mine?” that to know you were my kin, though. All those flowers you She slapped him. brought me, I ordered them—just to see you. I think you “It yours, but it’s ours. I want to have it. I think I are my grandson, but before we can do anything, the nurslove you, Sal. Perhaps this is a sign; this is the beginning. ing home wants me to take a blood test for the orphanage. My stepfather wants this to work, but he wants you to help They said you have to pay for it cause they don’t want no out to prove that you will be involved. I know we can do kids coming in here to take our money. That’s just what this—let’s have this baby.” said. I can put you in my will, I “He knew that she felt it was not they Resigned, he said that he got money, you just gotta prove it to would help. She would make plans over, but he would never talk to them. You can have a family. We can for him to take her to the hospital, her again.” be a family.” help finance the pregnancy, and be Sal just smiled and hugged the there for her throughout the process. Then, he could be old man who was now nearly in tears. Albert explained part of the family. He knew that she felt it was not over, how everything was to work and Sal agreed. Still, when but he would never talk to her again. Regardless, he would he walked out through the revolving doors, passing the send her some money by the end of the short summer. incoherent noises from the shadows of men, now smoking And so what? clove cigarettes in slacks lined with colostomy bags, he He would take the rest of May off and begin again knew better. On the drive home he felt the June air and on the first of June when he gathered his check—half of knew that he would not return to Shady Pines. He would which was sent out of town. drive back to the flower shop and tell the boss that he had to be given a new route. Regardless, he would send the man some money. June would begin with a burst of activity in the flower busi- And so what? ness. Sal would work overtime, nearly fifty hours a week. The majority of his day would be spent running to a northof-town nursing home and back—delivering some roses, July would begin slowly as the first few days leading up sometimes azaleas, and tulips to an old man or woman. to the holiday were long days—long because time moves The drive there would be slow, but the one back would more slowly when the sun is constantly imposing on skin. be slower. While inside, he would hustle through the nurs- Cold sodas would boil after only a few drinks or several ing home to avoid the stale air circulating, the sad faces songs; the reentering of the van would become a difficontorting, and lame workers talking. At least three times cult process because of the vinyl seats that radiated. Sal a day he would speed over to Shady Pines, although he would begin to slow down his work and fraternize around thought it was funny when he would call it Piney Shades. the shop more. This would improve his status among the Then around Father’s Day, the burst would exacerbate and other workers who enjoyed people who would slow down he would deliver numerous orders there. their work, and especially those who would slow down One old man in particular would get many of the their work to fraternize; this ballyhoo would not include deliveries. Sal would bring all of them and soon got to the boss. know this old man whose room was beginning to fill up Sal would do this so much that he began to get inwith foliage. The man, Albert, would talk about his lack of vited to the parties of his coworkers, including the big 4th of a family—something Sal would relate with—and how he July blowout at Todd’s lake house. Sal accepted this offer, not wanted a new one—something Sal would not comment on. because he was terribly social, but he was terribly bored. art / 10

The weekend led off with a bonfire and a contest to see who stayed up the latest. Sal did not win, and in fact woke up early enough in the morning to find Todd inserting a syringe between his toes, after which he passed out. Sal carried him to the beach house, although Todd pushed off again once there. Sal ignored this behavior for the several days that the party continued, but he could not stop looking at Todd’s toes. Todd would come over and offer Sal a drink, to which he refused. Both young men would look at each other confused—wondering why the other would do what they were doing. The parties would continue through the long weekend and July, with Sal catching Todd doing more heroin, but Sal still showing up and hanging out. July was winding down when Todd finally came to him for help, asking him: “Will you help me?” Sal wanted to help his friend who had dark bags under the eyes; his friend who was twitching and mistaking orders at the shop. Scarier, though, was where Todd was going, not where he was. “I always thought of you as a good friend, even a brother. If you helped me out right now, you can move in with me, it could be like family. I just need a little money for rehab, and then I get some money from my parents. They’ll help as long as I’m clean, so I need your help to get there. If you can’t or don’t want to, that’s fine, I’m not asking anybody else. You are the only one I trust.” So, Todd got everything prepared and told Sal that it was going to work out fine. Sal left Todd’s home and knew that he could not see him again. He had his schedule switched again to avoid Todd and the whole crowd. He would try to get him the money before summer was over though. And so what? August began and Sal waited for his last check and then told his boss that he had to be going back from where he came—this was a lie, as Sal was going someplace new. He got his last check and drove quickly to the bank where he sent half of it away, which is where we began our story. As was said earlier, Sal had a bad summer and now it was over. It was a bad summer because nothing really mattered. Some girl lied to him to try to get him to stay and start a family. Some old man wanted a friend who will mourn him. Some junkie needed a friend to get by and not kill himself. And what is worse was that they all wanted some money. Sal did not have any money. He sent half of it out of town to a husband and wife whose child had died when Sal had gotten drunk and called her for a ride. It was a night when the roads were icy. Her car crashed and he did not even know about it until the next day. The parents started a foundation at a local library to which Sal Murte gave money out of an ugly combination of guilt and obligation. He still could not feel anything, but perhaps those checks were his way of doing something human and taking responsibility for killing that girl. So we end with Sal leaving the city, going to find somewhere new where maybe something will matter and he can forget what has happened. Maybe somewhere it’s not just synapses firing for no reason, or it’s not just

electrons bouncing off one another just out of habit, or it’s not just the binary world that we walk through each day. Someplace where people aren’t like the flowers they love so—growing, blooming, then dying in an ephemeral burst of nothing. Someplace where it all means something because people are like flowers because they grow together, roots touching underground. He would never send the money to Ashley who birthed his child and would have loved him. He would never send money to Albert who was his grandpa and would have given him a human connection. He would never send money to Todd who was a good friend to Sal and would have gotten clean even without him. Sal Murte just couldn’t bring himself to be a valuable part of these people’s lives. Nonetheless, he imagines Ashley having the baby with the support of the old man his wrinkled hands holding the newborn in a room filled with flowers. He imagines Albert finding a son in Todd who now brings him his flowers and sits with him, stroking their birthmarks. He imagines Todd out of rehab, engaged to Ashley, celebrating their wedding with pictures, cake, and an assortment of flowers. Or maybe they all start a family and have a garden. All he could do was hope, because he was on his way out of town looking for another job so that he could rush to the bank on Fridays and send half of his check out of town. And so what? cs

M a k i n g a r t m a t t e r. Featuring inventive fiction, inspiring poetry and insightful nonfiction from today’s finest writers. http://webdelsol.com/NorthAmReview/NAR Subscribe today for $18.00 a year and save 20%

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The new album from Many Giants of Industry, featuring, “Caps Lock” In stores now

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(Swimming in the Nervepool) A look at Ebon Fisher’s Media Rituals and Zoacodes by Ben Timmons As I get closer to Ebon Fisher’s world, I can’t help but wonder exactly what to expect. The exhibit, titled Transformations in the Nervepool: The Rituals & Zoacodes of Ebon Fisher, leaves me bewildered. Friends and acquaintances in the art department at the University of Northern Iowa have tried to explain it to me, but they usually ended up tripping over their words for lack of an effortless classification. Technology, science and culture were all usually mentioned in an interchangeable order, but they were all just too broad to give me any idea of what to expect. So I decided it would be best to simply check it out for myself. What I find really does seem to defy a standard art classification, in the most positive sense imaginable. The art / 13

from left: Human Pelvis, Dear Little Rat’s Brain, I See Now first thing I see when I step into the quiet, dimly lit gallery is a far wall with massive scientific drawings of the human organs responsible for our senses. To my right and left are giant images of the bladder, liver, stomach and pancreas. This is definitely modern, I say to myself. *** Artist Ebon Fisher began his experiments with technology and culture at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology in 1984. He was awarded the job of teaching an undergraduate class, entitled Creative Seeing, and this would prove to be the spawning point for his pioneering work. Fisher began organizing what he termed “media rituals,” bringing together a group of Boston musicians, dancers and a DJ to perform biologically-themed ceremonies. The group was named Nerve Circle, and would begin Fisher’s experiments in visceral theatre, which combined blaring music, random media and a highly interactive audience, all designed to open participants’ minds to new forms of thinking and experience. However, after encounters with the Boston police (interrupting a Nerve Circle performance entitled, Evolution of the Grid, in Fisher’s darkened loft), and an eventual eviction, Fisher relocated to Williamsburg, Brooklyn, where he would hone the concept of these media rituals, and push his unique art even further. *** I spend some time examining these large images of human organs, and eventually make my way around the left side of the gallery. Most of the art shown depicts biology in a very art / 14

Dear Little Rat’s Brain abstract manner. The piece, Dear Little Rat’s Brain, is just as the name sounds: a large representation of what could only be the nerve center for a rodent. It is displayed next to Human Pelvis, and I find myself anchored between the two images, wondering where the inspiration came from. The placard next to both indicates that they were used in various media rituals, but does not elaborate. I imagine throbbing music, perhaps techno, but not necessarily, and people dancing around these giant depictions of beautiful biological design, standing in stark contrast to the artificial technology that is used to power the lights and sound. But as I look at these images towering over me, I start to think that the two do not stand in stark contrast, but instead bring together technology and the natural world into a sort of strange, post-modern organism where the delineations between technology and biology do not

Human Stomach

Enlarged Neuron Drawn by Psychologist

necessarily exist. It reminds me of The Matrix. I suspect that’s not what he had in mind. In an interview much later, I get a chance to ask Fisher about these organs. “Since I was an undergraduate student all my imagery has flirted with science -- not because science is absolute or true, but rather it’s a popular reference point. I see the images of organs and networks as non-objective, living phenomena emerging within culture’s relationship with nature,” he replies.

ning Party, where participants would have their eyeballs scanned, and then look into a video camera installed in the middle of the party, and share their thoughts on the process. There was the simply named Suction/Reflection System, where participants would move through a space to focal points on the floor (identified with strobe lights and directional markers), and set off projections of microscopic tissues in the process. Fisher also developed the Web Jam with fellow artists, a de-centralized hybrid mesh of various “cultural, technological and environmental webs,” all in the effort to create new hybrid life forms, bringing together everything from video to fire to exploding watermelons. In the course of the Web Jam, all of these webs would interact and create new organisms and subsystems. Throughout all of these media rituals, the combination and interweaving of human and media technology sought to bring the two towards one collective meeting point. In the midst of these rituals, the artistic community of Williamsburg, Brooklyn formed and flourished.

*** Once in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, Fisher set about addressing and modifying what he called, “living traditions.” The media rituals would continue in differing forms with the help of other local artists, and evolved into his monthly Media Compressions. “Media Compressions were set up to share information in a classic democratic circle, layering popular media in a second skin around the group,” Fisher says. Participants would bring media in a variety of forms (slides, video, music, etc.) and share with the group, with the media samples becoming layered on top of each other, building in intensity until climax and total silence. Fisher soon branched out from Media Compressions, hosting notable events such as the Eyeball Scan-

*** Moving from the left side of the gallery, where most of his early biological work is displayed, I move into a dark room with soft, almost tribal-sounding music emanating from the ceiling. The placard at the entrance indicates it is called a art / 15

Zoacode Sanctuary for Northern Iowa

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Zoacode Sanctuary. On the walls are figures resembling neurons, or exotic alien hieroglyphics, glowing brightly, courtesy of several projectors mounted above. At the far wall, a larger version of the white figures is cast in a bluegreen, and slowly morphs from one figure to another in a hypnotizing cycle. There are two benches inside the room. I sit down and look at the figures on the wall, deciding what to make of them. Underneath each figure is a caption, seeming to describe the mysterious symbol. “Link and seek links, tender revelers,” says one caption. “Let us array tendrils of mutual probing,” reads another. They read like high-tech fortune cookies, and it is a rather intriguing concept. *** Eventually, through all the media rituals and exploration of technology and culture, Fisher began to see deeper connections between people, machines and the environments they inhabited. In 1992, he would create his first “focal entities,” computer-generated projections that unsuspecting visitors were made to interact with as the images enveloped them. This was an early look into the idea of hybrid life forms, combining the digital with the profoundly human, an idea that was just beginning to be probed by computer scientists. Through more experimentation, these interactive creations soon became clustered into networks, a kind of social system where two or three entities would form relationships (much like humans). These media organisms would evolve into what Fisher now calls Zoacodes, a bionic system of ethics. “I didn’t know that when I began creating “focal entities” in my Test-Site show (in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, 1992) that they would evolve into Bionic Codes and Zoacodes. Those early “media organisms” were very raw and flirted with certain power, seduction and manipulation issues. They opened up a territory for me to explore. So did the diagrams I made of my media rituals. In the 1990s a number of things converged in my work and began to coevolve with both software and our technological culture. I didn’t plan anything, other than commit myself to staying within a certain zone of inquiry for the sake of continuity,” Fisher says. *** Once I realize that what I am looking at are Zoacodes, and that they represent a morphable, changing ethical set, I am instantly curious to see how these all work together. Immediately my mind conjures up thoughts of traditional JudeoChristian value sets, ethics that mankind has passed from generation to generation, and has changed very little. As I examine the codes, and their accompanying captions (my favorite reading, “equalize fucking,” which could become a great slogan for post-feminism), it strikes me that the Zoacodes don’t read as rules or law, but simply

Let Us Ooze Into Numb Connection

Link and Seek Links, Tender Revellers art / 17

Zoacode With Two Probes Over Snow

as suggestions for one’s exploration of the world; they feel like something to come from Eastern philosophy, not the Western world of thought. There are pictures and images of Zoacodes in the most mundane of places and situations; in the car, in a field, or in a person’s hand. And the interesting thing is that they do not seem like foreign objects, but instead like they belong and blend with these environments. They change with culture and feedback, allowing them to take any number of forms and meanings. Fisher says, “Zoacodes are not intended to act as edicts or rules, but rather open-ended, optional social algorithms (problem-solving routines) which combine, usurp one another, and play about…The truly open mixing and evolution takes place in a more turbulent space of media, culture, minds and the wider environment which sustains it all.” He elaborates: “I don’t expect my Zoacodes to compete with thousands of years of religious and secular traditions. For that matter I don’t envision any ethics system supplanting any other, per se, although hybridization seems inevitable. This has already occurred, as is well known, with the merging of Christian and Pagan traditions. Culture seems to work like a big bubbling soup in which multiple systems operate simultaneously, overlapping and mixing continuously. In my ruminations on a networkbased ethics system, I’ve thought about how overlapping and even competing principles might cohabitate within a single ethics system -- and perhaps even melt down at the edges, embracing evolution, decay and context-driven changes in emphasis.”

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*** Fisher has continued to explore his Zoacodes, and has created what he calls the Nervepool, a digital ecosystem where these bionic ethics can evolve further through feedback and media rituals. He continues to explore the connections between culture and technology, and considers himself a “gardener or zoologist,” cultivating his media entities and events like organisms. When asked about what he hopes the ultimate goal of his work will be, Fisher says, “I hope I lead viewers to sense the utterly strange and wonderful nature of existence itself. I don’t want them to get stuck on my work, per se. The Russian filmmaker, Tarkovsky, once said he used his camera to look with wonder at nature. I’m hoping to do something along those lines, although I include culture, religion and science with nature. With the Zoacodes, I hope people will come away appreciating ethics and social networks in general. Life is a miracle. Social experience is a miracle multiplied. Psycho-social-ecological experience is a universe whirling in a bewildering web jam.” cs

Give Ebon Fisher feedback about his Zoacodes and artwork at www.nervepool.net, and make sure to check out www.cesium-online.com for more of Ebon Fisher’s art.

(Roommate Needed)

fiction by Jim O’Loughlin

Roommate Needed!!! A totally reasonable $275 a month! These are great digs! All appliances are NEW! Washer/ Dryer: NEW! Refrigerator: NEW! Venetian blinds: MOSTLY NEW! Oh, yeah, carpet: NEW! You will want to live with us! We are: Jesse, a music major who also works at Sonic Music and only practices his drums between 4:30 and 6:00 p.m.; Jason, a business major and delivery dude at Pizzarama who brings home leftover pies at the end of the night; and Wes, a philosophy major who is currently between jobs but won’t bum a smoke off you on ethical principles. We are great people to have as roommates, and we’ll make you feel right at home. Totally open and honest and easy get along with unless you’re into stealing your roommates’ stuff, like the last guy, Julian, which was a real buzz kill and led to a Survivor-like tribal council scene that was a lot less enjoyable than it looks like on TV. But we all get along great. Aside from the last guy, Julian, stealing things and the time Wes’ meds got messed up and he threatened George, our landlord, we have never had any problems.

way. And he was even cool about that time Wes chased him down with a baseball bat and understood about Wes’ meds being messed up because he said when he came back from ‘Nam there were a few years he’d rather not remember himself. So, you’ll get your own bedroom with a nice view, as long as you like the look of brick. You can also keep the big fish tank Julian left behind, though after the whole incident with the python that escaped from the tank we’d all be more into less-dangerous pets like hamsters or maybe a turtle. But anyway, where else can $275 a month get you a home and friends? It’s like less than $100 per friend, and that doesn’t even include the companionship of Princess, the amazing three-legged cat that survived the attack of the python. Give us a call at the number below. We’ll be happy to talk to you anytime, except maybe not between 4:30 and 6:00 p.m. when Jesse’s practicing the drums. See ya later, peoples! cs Read more fiction online at www.cesium-online.com

And George, our landlord, is totally cool and quite liberal and not a slumlord by any means! If we’re a little late with the rent, we don’t fret, because George usually forgets to cash the checks until the middle of the next month anyart / 19

(Audibles)

This issue, our resident audiophile, Brian Tambascio, decides to cut away the rest of the band and focus on three musicians that explore in softer tones. 12 Songs • Neil Diamond On his amazing enough 29th album, 12 Songs is a storytelling, acoustic concoction of slow rock and soulful lyrics, but isn’t the same old “Cherry, Cherry” we’ve seen before. With nothing more than his voice and his guitar on most tracks, Neil regales us with tales of broken love and lifelong struggles. One of the best cuts is a song entitled, “Hell Yeah,” and builds beautifully up to a powerfully understated conclusion. “We” features more of a polka/ragtime rhythm, giving us classic Neil lyrics like, “Love is all about we.” He treats us to some brass and violins on, “Evermore,” one of the catchiest tunes here. 12 Songs is more somber overall than much of his earlier work, and that might turn some off, but for the rest of us, Neil has produced a definite gem that will keep us forever in blue jeans.

Back to Bedlam • James Blunt Starting off in small bars around London, 28-year-old James Blunt is now on the hot list all over the U.K., and his newest album is setting him off right across the pond. Trained in piano and violin, Blunt had also been in the army for four years before he realized his true calling was music (and we’re glad he did). “You’re Beautiful” is his first single, featuring Blunt’s high tenor voice and an infective chorus. The most upbeat track on the album is, “Wisemen,” with pop rock guitar and a faint synthesizer, obviously aiming to be his next single. If you’re in the mood for something a little slower, “Tears and Rain” and “No Bravery” are more vocally focused, with touches of faint piano and acoustic guitar. A few songs on this album love to build up to nothing, which becomes a bit of a test of listener endurance, but overall, it proves to be a rewarding listen.

Bem-Vinda Vontade • Mice Parade Adam Pierce, the brain behind Mice Parade holds true to his alternative-fusion genre that (by nature) lacks definition. On his newest solo album he combines everything from abstract funk, to slower orchestral-acoustic mishmashes, where it sounds like everything was thrown slow-motion into the kitchen sink. “The Days Before Fiction” is one of the most symphonic tracks, featuring a plethora of everything from exotic percussion, synthesizer and a soaring tenor vocal track. “Nights Wave” shifts crazily from strumming acoustics and deep drum grooves to a sporadic guitar break, and finally mutates once more into a catchy chorus. Certain tracks such as “Warm Hand in Farmland,” and “The Boat Room,” didn’t seem to develop as much, but Pierce has a knack for composing with delicacy. Some of the randomness in a few tracks wanted to drag on too far, but it might just be the secret to Mice Parade’s musical insanity. The rating scale? Read the beakers. 1 beaker: Pass on it • 2 beakers: Only if you’re a fan • 3 beakers: Damn good • 4 beakers: Buy Now! Make sure to get more music/talk more music on www.cesium-online.com me•di•a / 20

(Why I Love Project Runway)

essay by Scott Freeh

Look up exploitation in the dictionary, and you’ll likely find something like, “utilization of a group or people for selfish purposes.” And that’s precisely why I usually rail against reality television. On principal. These days, reality television has become synonymous with trashy television, where people exist simply to make giant asses of themselves or destroy their competition’s dignity bit by bit. I would wager that if you were to ask a random person on the street what comes to mind when they hear “reality TV,” images of Fear Factor troopers gulping down pig intestines and Elimidate contestants bad-mouthing each other to win the big date would be most frequent. And all my friends know this. They know this, and yet they still insist on me watching it with them, usually needling me with venomous amounts of peer pressure until I cave. For a long time I absolutely dreaded their reality television parties, where they would TiVo a night’s worth of the “best” the networks had to offer for the week, get a case (or three) of Leinenkugel’s, and enjoy. And to their credit, the sheer volume of alcohol made the programming somewhat bearable, but I would still dread those Sunday nights. Until we found Project Runway. It’s a simple, unassuming show, courtesy of the Bravo network, and I’ll admit that I was skeptical the first time around. A show about fashion, and fashion designing, no less? I tend to swear by Russell hooded sweatshirts and stocking caps that make me look like a dock worker; hardly a fashion statement. And I’m supposed to like a show about people of debatable sexual orientation designing ball gowns? By reason alone, it did not seem like a programming fit for me. At its heart, Project Runway adheres to the standard reality format. It begins with a dozen (give or take) hopefuls, and slowly whittles the field down to one lucky soul over the course of a season. Fairly straight forward, nothing new; my friends even admitted that they only initially recorded the show because they recognized Heidi Klum, supermodel extraordinaire, as a judge on the show. But after that first hour, we were hooked. Perhaps the addiction came from the way that we learn to love the designers, like a good film; we learn their eccentricities and their motivations in a depth that me•di•a / 21

is seemingly absent from most reality television. Instead of learning where someone got their breasts done, or the gym they work out in, we learn about their struggles to make a name in the fashion world, something inherently more interesting to me (although it might be because writers experience much of the same thing). Other shows have confessional moments, where characters dish to the camera, and cry about how much they hate one person or another; Project Runway has this, of course, but we also get to hear Santino talking about the madness behind his latest design, or Nick contemplating his muse. We see the ideas for the designs coming together before any work is even done. It’s a soap opera of creativity. And then there are the clothes. Watching these hip, young designers construct and invent hip, young outfits from nothing makes us feel hip. As we listen to Zulema describe just why we need an interlock sewing machine, we feel knowledgeable about fashion, something that, and I can speak freely for my friends here, we have never felt before. As we watch Daniel and Chloe sewing crazily to beat the midnight deadline, it sets us to talking about how that skirt just does not work, or what a shitty design Andre has committed to. When the models begin to strut confidently down the runway, we readily discuss our favorites and guess at what design will give a fated designer the axe. We flex our creative and aesthetic muscles, and bring our own opinions to bear, a rarity in reality television. The appeal of the whole process may come from the fact that the show focuses around a form of creativity that everyone has their fingers in. Everyone has a sense of fashion, whether it is good or not. Even my dad, who can’t seem to dress himself in coordinating colors, thinks he is incredibly stylish, and becomes slightly offended when my mother tells him to take off the Member’s Only jacket. Project Runway makes high fashion incredibly accessible, and it makes us feel cool for taking part in it. Watching Fear Factor does not make me want to jump out of a moving car, and Survivor does not make me want to wear fig leaves and stomp around a tropical island. But, really, after watching Project Runway, I say to myself, “I bet I could do that.” Not in a dismissive way, but in an embracing way, because, man, I’d really like to try. Of course, it should be obvious to me that I can’t do that; I wouldn’t even come close. I lack the training, the fashion school and the incredibly stylish gay eye. But the fact that my friends and I are intrigued by the sheer creativity that these designers bring to bear means that we come back, week after week, and hopefully will for seasons to come. Now if I could only get these homemade leopardprint pants to fit right. cs

Get more pointless media analysis at www.cesium-online.com

me•di•a / 22

thirsty?

The Dublin House

325 2nd Avenue Cedar Rapids, Iowa (319)364-5525 Serviving 16 varieties of Irish and Domestic beer on tap

(Return to the Cult)

This issue, Brian Tambascio looks at Wes Anderson’s pioneering indie film, Bottle Rocket, and why it’s quite possibly the seventh best film of the 90’s Some Background?

In 1996, fledgling director Wes Anderson co-wrote the quirky movie Bottle Rocket with his college friend Owen Wilson. The script was passed from contact to contact until it made it into the hands of James L. Brooks, who ponied up five million for production. The movie stars Owen Wilson as Dignin, an inept but hopelessly optimistic robber, and his “gang”, featuring Luke Wilson as Anthony, the goodhearted romantic, and Robert Musgrave as Bob Mapplethorpe (named after the controversial photographer), the conflicted getaway driver. Screen legend James Caan also shows up to play the small role of Mr. Henry, the master thief/landscaper, and is just another example of the dynamite performances throughout. Unfortunately, the nuances seemed to be lost on audiences, pulling in one million in ticket sales before making an untimely exit from theaters.

What’s the big deal? Throughout the 90’s, if not earlier, independent film was the place to find new talent and loads of creative vision, and many of them moved on to become cult films. Wes Anderson is the prime example of this cinematic aesthetic, and in Bottle Rocket, crafts not just the story of a group of bumbling criminals, but the touching tale of how far dreams and optimism can take you (refreshing, instead of the crop of slacker epics flooding the theaters at the time). He pulls it off with his unique style, such as long shots of oddball objects (like army figurines) and a frequent focus on hands, demonstrating an in-depth knowledge of unconventional storytelling. The dialog flows like the entire movie was improvised, and in the process, forges an incredibly dry and subtle humor, present in all the interactions between Dignin and Anthony. Combine this with the fast scene cuts Anderson seems to prefer, and the touching relationship between Anthony and Inez, the English-impaired housekeeper, and you have an independent film that breaks boundaries.

The cult legacy? Even though the film wasn’t in theaters long, it has slowly spread like a virus through the internet community, cultivating a large collection of dedicated fans. Wes Anderson would go on to direct movies like Rushmore, The Royal Tenenbaums and The Life Aquatic, all staying true to the unique vision that he pioneered with Bottle Rocket. The Wilson brothers would go on to be superstars in their own right, showing up frequently in Anderson productions and on their own. Legendary director Martin Scorsese even picked this movie as his seventh favorite movie of the 90’s in an interview with Roger Ebert, so you know it has to be good.

How should you watch it? Watch it with two of your best friends, while wearing matching yellow jumpsuits. cs Get more movies online at www.cesium-online.com me•di•a / 23

(In Search of Bennifer) essay by Janice Houlihan

I will readily admit that I am a tabloid freak; I relish turning the pages of countless gossip mags while I wait in line at the store to buy the essentials, like Hagen Daz ice cream and the latest Queen Latifah movie. These magazines, printed on flimsy paper and seemingly designed by monkeys throwing opposing colors and headline texts onto the page, have long held me under their spell. Where else can you see the latest celebrity to pack on the pounds, or break up in grand style with their longtime spouse for the new, hip kid on the block? I strive to keep up on all the twists and turns between the stars, and in the process it becomes like a mini-soap opera. Oh, the suspense until the next issue! However, in all my years of studying these shameless purveyors of celebrity excess, I’ve just noticed the recent trend of what I can only call name combination. It may sound slightly odd, but anyone that has emerged from under a rock and watched television will know what I’m referring to. Bennifer. Brangelina. Tomkat. It’s the apparently recent phenomenon of bringing two people’s names together to form one unique identifier. It all started, of course, with Ben Affleck and the Latin cul•ture / 24

bombshell Jennifer Lopez in 2002. Their romance intrigued So where exactly does this pop culture phenomeus, and gave every tabloid freak something to live for (if non hail from? It’s not as if this is a long-standing Hollywood that seems sad, you just don’t understand). For those that practice; one of the classic celebrity couples, Spencer aren’t as celebrity savvy, the two actors, both already huge Tracey and Katherine Hepburn, never altered their names stars, met on the set of their hit movie, Gigli, and ignited a to become a singular unit (and actually, they spent their paparazzi storm as their romance heated up exponentially. lives avoiding the press), and you’ve never heard Johnny The general public quickly fell into line, obsessed Cash and his wife June Carter Cash referred to as, “Cashwith getting the latest news about the couple, whether it Cash,” although it definitely sounds cute. In all actuality, be from the latest issue of People, or nightly updates from one of the only classic examples available is that of Lucille Access Hollywood (myself included). Although it isn’t de- Ball and Desi Arnaz’s production company, formed in the finitive where the name came early 1950’s, entitled Desilu, from or who originated it, the cleverly combining names couple was soon referred to into one of television’s most lovingly, simply, as, “Bennifer.” prolific production companies There was no more mention of ever; this name wasn’t used to Ben Affleck’s entire name, nor identify the couple, although Jennifer Lopez’s (which had althe state of celebrity tabloid ready been unofficially shortmedia was much different (if ened to the catchy J. Lo); the not non-existent) at that point. two became the entity known However, it turns out that as Bennifer, and upon their glothe concept of linguistic comriously public breakup in 2003, bination is hardly as new as it people continued to feverously may seem. The practice of fusdiscuss the demise of Bennifer. ing two or more words, and si It seemed that immemultaneously combining their diately after, the public’s taste meanings into one, is known as for these name combinations a portmanteau (port-man-too). could not be satiated, spawnLinguists and other people that ing most recently, “Tomkat,” to religiously study the usage and symbolize actors Tom Cruise evolution of language (includand Katie Holmes’ connection, ing those that insist on correctand “Brangelina,” standing in ing me when I say who, instead place for actors Brad Pitt and of whom) have other sub-catAngelina Jolee. Perhaps actegories and definitions of this ing in the spirit of precedent practice, dependent on how that Bennifer gave us, all of and what words are brought tothese couples were the subject gether, but for our intents and of tabloid scrutiny, attracting purposes, we will simply look photographers everywhere at the cultural phenomenon of the couple went, and giving us portmanteau. celebrity press conferences, The fact of the matter is that most notably Tom Cruise’s the combination of words is It’s not easy being a portmanteau public announcement of his all around us, in ways that we engagement to Katie Holmes (which was rumored to be a never even pause to think about in our daily conversapromotional stunt for newly released movies by the actors, tions. Ever eat brunch? That’s obviously lunch and dinner but I digress). squished together, used to describe an awkwardly-timed As I sit, staring at the stacks of People and Star that late morning meal. What about use a camcorder? That surround my desk and fill my shopping carts, I can’t help would be a camera and a recorder, designed to compactly but wonder about the actual act of these name bastardiza- capture embarrassing moments for reshowing at family tions, and where they came from. Perhaps it is the sign of reunions. Ever watched an infomercial, done jazzercise, an extremely busy society, one that has no time for extra or stayed in a motel? These portmanteaux (notice the syllables and wants to trim every word into the most com- plural spelling) are so ingrained in our society, that not pact form available; this makes sense, but the logic fails only does the mention of them here seem rather mundane, when I look around me and realize this phenomenon is but also doesn’t even get a raise of the eyebrow from my not occurring in personally significant relationships. My spellchecker. Even the word muppet is readily recognized, parents (Mark and Katherine) have not become a catchy bringing together a marionette and a puppet, and that’s signifier, like “Markine,” or “Kathark.” My friends do not slightly more exotic than the last examples. say things about my boyfriend (George Spanzants) and I If this demonstrates that the idea of combining like, “did you hear the latest about Janspanszants?” as ut- two words into one has been around for a long, long time, terly hilarious as that may be. it should be no surprise that we’ve finally gotten around cul•ture / 25

In Willy Wonka, author Roald Dahl gave us Wonkavision, bringing together a name (Wonka) and an item (television), and paved the way for name combinations like Bennifer. to shoving two names into the space of one. In fact, this follows a sort of trend in language that’s exploded in the past half-century, where people are getting quite creative with the words they stick together. Procrasturbate (the root words should be obvious) means,“to delay because it feels good,” and chillaxing (from chilling and relaxing), which obviously refers to a state of deep relaxation, are just a few examples of the creativity embodied in English slang. Wonkavision, the pioneering device that dooms Mike Teevee in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, comes from a combination of Wonka and television, and further combines television with teleportation in a complex (yet funny) way. Some combinations never really seem to get ingrained in our public consciousness (insannibis? A portmanteau of insane and cannabis), while some get snatched up quickly and incorporated in pop culture’s fluid vocabulary; metrosexual (commonly quoted to bring together metropolitan and heterosexual), a fairly new word on the scene, referring to an extremely well-dressed man, has found a home in the Oxford English Dictionary. The word crunk (crazy and drunk) is currently being shouted by every college student in America. And so now, as language continues to shift and evolve, we get Bennifer. And Billary (Bill and Hillary Clinton). And Brangelina, Tomkat and Speaderline (for Britney Spears and her perpetually stoned husband/backup dancer, Kevin Federline). It should be no surprise that our obsession with creating new words has given us the gift of these identifiers; but it seems that names like “Vaughniston” (Vince Vaughn and Jennifer Anniston) are more than just a little silly nameplay. It represents our desire to compactly sum up all of the media hype and craziness surrounding these celebrity couple’s lives. Using the word Tomkat in a sentence does more than just identify the subject; it brings connotations of the swarming paparazzi, the Oprah interviews and ridiculous weddings. Using these names also seems to suggest that these couples are truly larger than life, and no are no longer separate people; they combine to create a superhuman, much like the creatures of ancient mythology which combined animals and humans to make a result that you’d be afraid to go near (unless it was a unicorn). Even though Ben Affleck married actress Jennifer Garner after his split with Lopez, the new couple was affectionately (depending on the viewpoint) called “Bennifer II,” instead of the more humorous “Garfleck”. People feel attachments to cul•ture / 26

their creations, and are obviously hesitant or reluctant to let them fade away into pop history. It’s only natural. Hulkamania. The Governator. It seems our love with these combinations is here to stay, although I must note that I recently read that the hyphen (as in, Jolie-Pitt) is poised to become the new portmanteau. Even if this is the case, I predict that the gossip masses will always relish the chance to lump our favorite celebrities’ names together, if only to display our mastery of English and to feel like a part of a powerful relationship. Now, the only thing I have left to do is to get George to start using Janspanzants. At least in front of our friends. Then it should catch on, no problem. cs Send us your most creative, original portmanteaux at www.cesium-online.com. Maybe you’ll redefine the language.

www.pokerschool.com

(Erasing the Razor) an essay by Paul C. Middleton If there’s one thing I truly hate, and hate being a strong word, it would have to be shaving. I think I fall into league with most men here. Since late seventh grade, it’s been a chore to scrape my face smooth just so my girlfriend would stick around. Standing in front of the mirror every morning, eyes half open, and dragging a dull razor across the stubble that’s crept in overnight, I wish for either the ability to grow a full beard, or a genetic makeup that keeps my facial hair at bay. Then one day, after applying a whole styptic pencil to my face to stop the bleeding (which stings like dipping a fresh cut into a glass of lemon juice), I said to myself, “there has to be a better way.” I quickly took to the internet, searching for a cure to my shaving blues. There were a multitude of websites dedicated to hair removal in varying forms, from the simple (plucking) to the expensive and involved (electrolysis). After a few hours of searching, I decided on trying several remedies for my hatred of the razor. The first stop on my hair removal tour de force was Nair, the famous depilatory lotion. You might remember the old Nair commercials, with happy women running down the beach in swimsuits and perfectly smoothed legs (“who wears short shorts?”). The idea was that a quick application of this lotion would essentially melt away the hair, leaving you with smoother skin, for a longer time than shaving. Sounded like the million dollar idea. After picking up a bottle at the store, I studied the label for warnings. There were plenty; the bottle advised me to apply a small amount to a hidden area and wait for 24 hours to check for adverse reactions. I skipped this

step, as time was clearly at a premium. However, before applying the hideous-smelling lotion (ironically labeled as Raspberry Raz-ma-tazz, which sounded delicious), I did some last minute research online, and found one too many tales of people developing, “patches of skin resembling severe sunburn,” which took weeks to heal. So I applied it liberally to my armpit as a trial. The directions instructed me to wait approximately five minutes before wiping off the lotion with a damp washcloth, but no more than 10 minutes (the last part was in big bold letters). The first minute was bearable, but then the tingling quickly changed to a dull burn. Around the three minute mark, my eyes began to continually dart to the clock to see if time had elapsed. At four minutes, I sincerely thought I heard the pores of my armpits screaming. When the clock finally stopped at five minutes (sweet relief!), I gingerly wiped the hair away with a damp washcloth and inspected the area. The hair had been wiped away semi-cleanly, but the area was quite irritated, like I had just used a deodorant laced with acid. The Nair would go nowhere near my face. The next idea was an intriguing one; it was called the HairOff Facial Buffer (as seen on TV!). It claimed to,“buff away facial hair gently, instantly and easily, with no pain, no chemicals and no mess.” Ignoring the implied image of someone from a janitorial company using a floor buffer on my face, it sounded like a win-win, and even better than melting my hair (and skin) away with depilatory lotion. I opened the box and found a purple plastic holder, and three sandpaper-like pads. The bi-lingual directions (Spanish and German) told me to attach one of the pads to cul•ture / 27

the purple holder, and then gently stroke my face with it in a counterclockwise direction. Simple enough. I did as I was told, rubbing the coarse pad over my week’s growth; I could feel the top layer of my skin slowly being erased, but the hair stayed put. I pushed harder, but to no avail. After about ten minutes of this (and a lot of wishful thinking), the hair remained intact and my skin was raw. I assumed it was what fish felt like when they have their scales removed. I decided to stop the experiment, before I rubbed a hole in my cheek. Disappointed and disillusioned, I thought of one last technique. I had always heard of people getting hair waxed off, and it was generally touted as the most effective way to get rid of body hair for long periods of time. It sounded a bit painful (perhaps best portrayed recently in The 40 Year Old Virgin), but it seemed to be a quick pain, and easier than losing a pint of blood every morning in front of the mirror. I called a local salon to inquire about getting it done professionally. “Sure, we can wax your face,” the woman on the other end said cheerfully. “How often would I need to wax it?” “A man’s face?” She thought for a moment. “Well, probably like once or twice a week.” “Really? Once or twice a week?” “That’s just a guess.” “Okay. How much would it cost?” “About 30 dollars a session.” That’s when I hung up the phone. As much as I hated shaving, it was not worth 60 dollars a week to have wax drizzled on my face, and the hair violently removed, strip by strip. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t try it at home. I located the Sally Hansen Hair Remover Wax Strip Kit (what a mouthful) at the store, right next to the facial buffer, which, in hind-sight, was probably not a good sign. The box said it was both dermatologist and salon tested, and boasted smooth results for up to eight weeks. It sounded like the Holy Grail. With the help of my roommate, we carefully warmed up the waxing strips and placed one on my cheek, over the now patchy beard that was taking shape. We were careful to place the strip with the grain, and pressed down hard to ensure a good adherence. My heart rate jumped as my roommate grasped the edge of the strip and prepared to yank it off like an old band-aid. The question was raised as to whether we should count down, or if she should just pull the strip quickly without telling me. “This isn’t helping my nerves,” I said. She placed the end of a toothbrush into my mouth for me to bite down on, as we were apparently out of bullets. And then she pulled. There was no countdown. If you’ve ever seen someone wax hair off their body, and haven’t tried it yourself, you might think that their yelp of pain is simply an overreaction. Please do not believe this. My face stung like I had just put it into a tank of active jellyfish. Although I could not deny that the skin was now smooth and stubble-free, the odds of me using the facial buffer were more likely than ripping hair off my face once a week. cul•ture / 28

In a final thought of desperation, I remembered a website that I had stumbled upon, where men discussed the use of Rogaine to stimulate hair growth on the face. These men were probably much like me; desperate to grow a great Old Testament beard and have an excuse to not shave every morning. It was very ZZ Top. When I looked into it more, however, the side effects began to outweigh the benefits. Men who had experimented with Rogaine, which works by supposedly stimulating hair follicles, reported waiting up to 90 days to begin seeing results. Furthermore, Minoxidil (the active ingredient in Rogaine) apparently enters your system upon repeated use, instead of simply working at the site of application. This led some men to report extra growth of hair on their back, chest, legs, and even foreheads. Not wanting Nair my forehead every few days, I logged off, defeated. And so, after all of my experiments in eliminating the chore of shaving from my life, I trudged back to the mirror, resigned to my fate as a man in a clean-shaven culture. My Mach 3 almost seemed to laugh at me for trying to escape his chemically-coated blades (for my comfort) and his ergonomic handle. My only hope now is that some day I can engage in progressive gene therapy that will replace the gene that turns me into a gorilla overnight, with one that keeps me as smooth as a Neutrogena model. cs



Get more hygene at www.cesium-online.com

(Plain Speaking) This issue, T. Dalley Waterhaus scares his therapist and pontificates on the PR successes of an administration. As the war on terror progresses, now threatening to slurp up Iran in its path to world democracy, American style, it seems that the public is finally starting to come to. Once upon a time, it felt like everyone was behind Bush, doing their patriotic duty and keeping their mouths shut, no matter where the ship’s course seemed to head. Those of who spoke out, whether it was against the war, torture, or even seemingly mundane things like the economy, were quickly and efficiently silenced. We were marginalized, pushed to the edge of the debate and labeled as crazy (which, undoubtedly, some of us were), as liberals (which some of us are), or as both (Ted Kennedy). And yet, it appears, much like modern teenage fashion, what was once out is now in again. It is no longer viewed as political suicide to denounce the war, torture of prisoners, or even the administration’s handling of natural disasters. Perhaps, if I may be so bold to suggest it, political dissent has achieved some form of vogue, a kind of social chic, among those with any measurable influence on society (read: the media and celebrities). Representative Jack Murtha, who was once denounced as a crackpot for calling for the withdrawal of troops immediately from Iraq, is now looked upon in a sort of awe for having the huevos to stand up to the Republican dogma hanging over Washington like a bad Los Angeles smog cloud. As I watch all of this unfold, and the media slowly begin to say, “perhaps we shouldn’t have agreed with everything the administration told us,” well, I can’t help but smile and realize just how damn brilliant this administration is. Absolute genius! Anyone who knows me has probably already called the mental health institution at this point, but allow me a moment to explain. The Bush Administration, along with the help of expert spin surgeons like Karl Rove (which is spelled much like Karl Marx, just for reference), has managed the national discourse better than Joe Montana running a two-minute offense. All the talk, all the dissent, has been controlled. If anyone with any significant amount of clout felt like saying something demeaning or contrary to what the administration was vocalizing, the administration simply marginalized those voices with a barrage of conservative views crying foul. “How un-American of you to say that!” “The idea that President Bush has no plan for this country is absurd.” “Let’s get back to the real debate, Mr. Colmes.” Rinse, repeat, and voila! It suddenly becomes obvious to the average American worker that Democrats, and the left in general, are only interested in demeaning our commander-in-chief and distracting

us from the real debates, like why gay marriage is horribly evil (instead of some war overseas people keep talking about). Despite the possibility that the administration used some questionable means to persuade the masses (releasing ‘news clips’ produced by the propaganda department to run in conventional news channels), and even some possibly illegal ones (anyone remember Valerie Plame? Didn’t think so.), it remains fact that they were completely successful in controlling and shaping the debate as it ‘evolved’ in the country. Now we see this slow change through the media, a tide of people rallying against the administration.“If you’re so smart, T.D., why isn’t the administration shutting these people up?” you ask. Well, the fact of the matter is that they no longer need to. The administration, and the Republican Party in general, has beat the Democratic Party to such a bloody pulp that if there was a referee, he’d call for a TKO. There’s nothing left of the Democrats; they’re fragmented and disarrayed. The Bush administration knows better than hit a man when he’s down (that’s just not American, after all), and so we now hear the multitudes that had been previously suppressed. pol•i•tics / 29

Of course, it would be ridiculous to think that the administration would lose control of the situation at hand; sure, the administration openly came out and admitted it might have listened in on your weekly phone calls to your girlfriend in Afghanistan, but really, it wasn’t illegal. Sure, they admit the war may have been misguided, but hell, we’re there, so we’d better finish the job. The conservatives have gotten extremely proficient in giving the left just enough rope to hang themselves with, and the Democrats seemingly do it with glee. Of course, this is not to say that public opinion hasn’t reacted to the administration’s mess-ups; Bush’s poll numbers remain at basement level, and show little sign of jumping up. Republican representatives and senators seem torn in following their leader or distancing themselves from what seems to be scandal after scandal. But let’s face it; the fact that the Democrats lack a coherent strategy to fight back lets the Republicans sleep at night (most likely on a Tempurpedic mattress). Until the left can find a galvanizing force to bring them back to relevancy, even I can’t help but sit back and applaud the administration’s brilliant maneuvers. It’s pure textbook marketing; now, if only the Democrats could get to the library and read it. cs Get more T. Dalley Waterhaus and a 24-hour politics buffet at www.cesium-online.com

A son back from Iraq. A husband busy collecting bodies. A wife addicted to disaster coverage. A family unwraveling to its fractured conclusion. introducting Peter Well’s incendiary debut novel,

Salvaging the Dead Wells is the new master of understated post-modern angst... this should be his introduction to literary circles everywhere. -The Omaha Review [Wells] develops scenarios you could only dream of, and then forget as soon as you wake. -The New Criticism Spectacular...it reads like something from a much more established author. -KMR Available in May from the Greenbourgh Press and bookstores everywhere www.theGreenboughPress.com

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(Why No News is Good News) Essay by Paul C. Middleton It doesn’t take a genius of any sort to realize that our country is divided in its ideologies. We have one group populating the big cities and costal areas that vote along fairly liberal lines, and we have another from the South and Midwest that typically lean towards the conservative. This, on its own, is not a large shock by any means, as it has statistically always been the case; the people in the middle of America (frequently referred to as, “the Bible Belt”) are often raised in environments with more conservative roots, focusing around a sturdy work ethic and the idea that the government should mind its own business, while the masses in city centers experience a plethora of ideas and ethics melting together. Historically, these two political viewpoints always seemed to get along and respect each other, inhabiting the national realm with a sense of dignity, and an understanding that both sides were present for a reason, like some sort of Western ying and yang. That’s not to say that the Republicans and the Democrats always cooperated (which was often far from the case), but it should be noted that people were once more able to envision both sides of pol•i•tics / 32

the debate, and simply put, it got things done. Yet, in today’s national climate, it is becoming evident that this sort of political happy-medium is disappearing, and a sizeable gap is widening between the right and the left. A look at the headlines of any major paper will most likely reference Democratic filibusters over Republican appointments and Republican threats to utilize the ominous-sounding nuclear option. Poll numbers illustrate the fact even more vividly; a CBS poll reports that in 1980, only 43% of respondents felt there were large, major differences between the two national political parties; in 1998, that number jumped to 63%. The poll also reports that 51% of respondents feel that George W. Bush has divided people, while only 32% of people feel that he has united America. This slow growing division has become more evident than ever. These days, the word liberal is bandied about like an obscenity among conservatives, using it as a blanket term to describe anyone that adheres to the Democratic platform, even if they still remain fairly centered in their ideologies. Any mention of universal health care

brings about comparisons to Communism, and lists of the all in an attempt to garner ratings. “most liberal senators” appear in the media every year News channel biases are obvious to most consumwith growing focus, reading like a blacklist, a condemna- ers of cable television, and the PRC shows that 72% of tion of Democratic voting records. people believe news channels only report on one side of Likewise, the term conservative is tossed about on an issue, which is not at all false. For example, Fox News, college campuses and in Starbucks coffee shops the same which bills itself as,“fair and balanced,” is often earmarked way; liberals look upon the right as people lacking souls as the conservative channel of choice, hosting fare such and compassion, willing to hand government (and possi- as The O’Reilly Factor and Special Report with Brit Hume. bly their own mothers) over to corporate control, when in These shows make an effort to present opinionated viewreality, a person may define him or herself as a conserva- points on the day’s news, which tend to be more conservative simply because they dislike taxes. Aligning a person tive in nature. Likewise, CNN (as to a lesser extent MSNBC) with the Christian right has become an even more dubious has been cast the more liberal choice, where shows like distinction, conjuring images of religious zealotry and an Anderson Cooper 360 advertise the asking of probing appetite for abortion clinic bombings. questions of those in charge. CNN has famously been la The two parties refuse to talk to each other and beled by critics, such as the group Accuracy in Media, as keep to themselves, never attempting to engage in a the “Clinton News Network,” or “Clearly Not Neutral.” PBS clean, honest debate. When legislation stalls in Congress, features News Hour, and is viewed by many people as the Democrats and Republicans jump to blame each other for ultra-liberal choice because of outspoken criticism of Rethe bottleneck and accuse the opposite side of partisan publican administrations, although PBS lacks the viewing politics. Each year, the tactics exposure of CNN. “Organizations that specialize in the This matches up with pollgrow dirtier, with the best example being George W. delivery of the news are themselves ing done by the PRC, which Bush’s attacks on John Kerry’s shows that the television Vietnam service in the 2004 becoming polarized and staking claims to choices people make are presidential campaign, where territory once untouched by traditional quickly becoming linked Kerry’s service and valor their ideologies. Over news outlets.” to were openly questioned and half of Fox News viewers tarnished (although it should be noted that Democrats are describe themselves as conservative (52%), compared to certainly guilty of similar things, such as forged National only 36% of CNN’s audience. This demonstrates that when Guard records showing Bush skipped out on duty.). These people tune into news channels, they are more often than sentiments of discontent are prevailing not only in Wash- not looking for affirmation of their existing beliefs, rather ington, but across the country as we all take sides and re- than confirmation of objective facts. This presents a quanfuse to look over the political divide separating us. dary to traditional journalistic practices; traditional jour But what is to blame for this growing polarization, and nalism espouses the unbiased telling of stories, but these more importantly, is there a way to restore a semblance of mod- news networks blur those long-standing rules by delivereration (or at least sanity) to our nation’s political thought? ing the news with a slant, whether the slant is pronounced That, of course, is a bit of a loaded question, as or not. there are undoubtedly a variety of causes for the politi- Our problem of political division partly arises from cal gap. But while it is certainly not a complete answer, the fact that viewers develop loyalties to these networks, a likely source is today’s popular media. Organizations and thus begin the process of polarization in their thoughts. that specialize in the delivery of the news are themselves Fox News is generally more supportive of the current Bush becoming polarized and staking claims to territory once administration than the other major cable networks, and untouched by traditional news outlets. And this is quickly predictably, people that frequently tune into Fox News transferring to the public. find fewer problems in the way the country is governed Perhaps the most influential are television offer- (CBS polls show that 75% of Republicans feel the country ings, as it is most readily identified as the public’s primary is headed in the right direction). Likewise, since CNN and source of news (a Pew Research Center [PRC] study puts MSNBC typically ask tough questions (MSNBC’s Hardball the percentage of people relying on the television for news with Chris Matthews makes a living off of this), viewers will at 74%). Some time ago, long before I was even born, the often find themselves being critical of the administration only sources for news on television were the three major in office (the same CBS polls show 83% of Democrats feel networks: ABC, CBS, and NBC. Because the viewer’s choic- the country is headed in the wrong direction). es were limited to the big three, competition was relatively However, the blame can hardly be limited to the tame, with networks primarily competing for the big scoop. television side of the media. The internet, and political blogAnd then came the spate of cable news channels, begin- ging more specifically, have opened news consumers up to ning with CNN in 1980, and the fight for audience share an exponentially greater set of ideas. Blogs have allowed was on. Networks were not only fighting to be the first to any person with a computer the chance to share their views break a story, but were trying to keep the audience’s atten- with the world, and are a wonderful step towards grassroots tion around the clock. All of these new channels professed political involvement; however, when people take to the the same journalistic standards as other news outlets, and internet to become informed, they still tend to gravitate yet seemed to cater to certain segments of the population, towards sites that share their same ideology. Conservative pol•i•tics / 33

readers will be more likely to surf to the blog, Blogs for blog. This makes working with disparate groups and parBush, for example, while liberal readers will be found on ties increasingly difficult, and limits the amount that we websites like Left is Right. The major news networks all can get done, because of a lack of consensus. This can only operate blogs as well, but they remained aligned with serve to harm our country. their viewing demographic’s ideologies, and usually offer This is not to say that a person should not listen to little extra insight into the political happenings of the day. the views of their political party of choice; the great thing While unbiased news sources abound on the internet (the about our society is that you are free to read what you like. BBC’s international news site remains one of the best), it However, when news consumers are looking for unbiased seems that people are more inclined to stay with their own information about the latest national disaster, election or party, which rarely avoids spin and congressional debate, consumcontinues to propagate existing “People are ignoring the one source ers should be conscious about beliefs, even if they prove to be erof unbiased news, in favor of party the source they turn to, and how roneous. it affects what they hear. Viewers propoganda.” can make decisions to turn not It should be noted at this point that print news, a longtime only to their favorite blogs or mainstay of news organizations (as it was obviously present news channels, but also to news sources that are known for before television was even conceived), continues its “de- their impartiality in the reporting (such as The New York cade-long slide,” in popularity, according to the PRC, with Times or the BBC) for a second opinion. Of course, we all only 42% of Americans reporting that they read a newspa- know the world is becoming a busier and busier place, per “yesterday” (down from 58% in 1994). This is occurring and most will argue that they don’t have time to check the while many academic and independent studies of main- facts of one source against another; I would argue that in stream print media, such as The New York Times and The today’s complex political climate, where decisions made Washington Post, show that they are often the most objective across the planet can have huge effects on Americans, reporters of the news, despite allegations of bias from both knowledge is the ultimate power, and we cannot afford to sides of the political spectrum. People are ignoring the one limit our knowledge to any one source. source of unbiased news, in favor of party propaganda. Through a little effort to examine all sides of an So now that we know about the polarization of the issue or debate, we are able to better cooperate with each most popular forms of media, the question remains as to other, and in turn, accomplish more as citizens. By stopwhether we can do anything about it, or if it’s even a prob- ping to read that headline, you connect yourself with the lem at all. national debate that affects everyone. By reading both a Polarization of public political sentiment is cer- liberal and conservative viewpoint, we become more baltainly not going to go away anytime soon, but it should anced people. definitely be a warning sign and red flag for people that And isn’t that what we need right now anyway? cs are interested in a productive public debate. As people continue to subscribe to news channels that deliver facts geared to one segment’s beliefs, audiences will be more Check out www.cesium-online.com for more cynical and more likely to see other sides of a debate as wrong, political opinions. because the opposing ideas are not represented by their source of choice, whether it is Fox News or a trendy new

Check out writing from... Chuck Dooley T. Dalley Waterhaus Brian Tambascio David Surrey Susan Stuart Tristan Abbott Ron Sandvik Dave Donovan and more...

Art. Media. Culture. Politics. Continued.

Gourmet Cooking.com fish • poultry • beef • pork • vegetarian pol•i•tics / 34

www.cesium-online.com

(Upcoming Events) A quick look at the events you might find Cesium at, if we ever left the office. Thursday, March 30, 2006 Are you dying to see some great stand-up comedy that leaves you tearing up and gasping for air? Would you settle for some amateur comedy? Penguin’s Comedy Club, located in downtown Cedar Rapids, will be hosting Amateur Night, showcasing the finest non-professional talent in the area. Look for a superb five minute set from Cesium’s own Brian Tambascio, and make sure to head back on April 13th for the Amateur Night Contest, where the best of the best will be selected. Showtime is at 7:00, tickets available at the door.

Saturday, April 8, 2006 The Lampost Theatre & Coffeehouse, in association with the Hearst Center for the Arts and Filmnotes.com, will showcase a night of creative philosophizing with the first annual “Why Am I Here?” Film Festival. Amateur filmmakers from Eastern Iowa will screen films ranging from 30 seconds to 30 minutes, all in search of answering the question, “why?” The Lampost Theatre & Coffeehouse is located on Seerley Boulevard, just blocks away from the University of Northern Iowa. Check out filmnotes.com/whyfilmfest for more info.

Saturday, April 8, 2006 Spring is here, and that can only mean one thing: new clothing lines. The place to be is at the annual University of Northern Iowa Fashion Show, produced by students in the Textiles and Apparel Program. The theme is “Style Perspectives,” and it will feature designs ranging from evening wear to wearable art. The show takes place in the Lang Hall Auditorium, and doors open at 7:30. Make sure to stick around after the show for a portfolio review and reception at the Center for Multicultural Education in Maucker Union.

Saturday, April 22, 2006 Remember a few years back, when camouflage was all the rage? Yeah, neither do we, but we are told it has officially returned, courtesy of the University of Northern Iowa Art Department. They will play host to the “Camouflage: Art, Science and Popular Culture,” mini-conference, focusing on all things camouflage, from the artistic, scientific and psychological side of things, to military and fashion-related concealment and deception. It will feature half-hour talks and slide shows from over 37 world-renowned scholars throughout the day. Make sure to wear your finest M*A*S*H t-shirt. To pre-register, send a $20 check (made out to the UNI Department of Art) to: Camouflage Conference UNI Art Department Cedar Falls, IA 50614-0362 Please remember to indicate the name of the person registering and contact information (mailing address and email). On-site registration is also available. Send questions to Prof. Roy R. Behrens at [email protected]. Tell him Cesium sent you.

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