The Flip Side Volume 7 Issue 7

 

Alexis X. Delve

Undergraduate/Photography

It has come to my attention that men are at best pansies, idiots, or assholes when it comes to courting a woman. There is no in-between as far as the dating world is concerned, so here I am to try to help you bail out the sinking ship that is your singledom. If you’re happy being single: move on, this article is not for you. How­ever, if you’re a man (or woman, though I’d assume you know these things) feel­ing hurt and dumbfounded that you can’t seem to find purchase with the fairer sex, here are some facts that I think will help us all along. (*Remember, these CAN vary from woman to woman, though on aver­age I believe these to be truths.) Let’s talk about how to spot your enemy, engage, speak directly to, nurse your wounds, and what exactly to do next. These rules are for getting a date, not getting laid. That’s an entirely different article for another time.

Eye Contact: This primal instinct is your opening move. This will WITH­OUT FAIL tell you whether you’re in or out. Women tend to make this decision quickly, as there are many categories we can sort you into. If you’ve already been sorted into the “I’d rather make out with a Badger” category, there’s no crawling back for you, especially once words like “friend” or “nice guy” have been uttered. Let’s discuss the various types of eye contact and what they mean. Alright, now spot a woman you’re interested in. Look her se­ductively in the eye. What does she do?

-Smiles: Great! You’re in. Time for step 2.

-Looks down: This depends. If she looks down, she’s probably more nervous than uninterested. Try again. If she refus­es to look at you, you may be out of the game. Check her body language. If she turns completely away from you, you just struck out. If she is turned toward you or suddenly turns toward you, you’re in. Try to get the smile (without being creepy), then move to step 2.

-Looks to the left or right: You’re in (unless she throws a few glances at the ceiling). She doesn’t want you to know she’s into you, but she’s totally into you. Try again for a smile, or if feeling confi­dent, move to step 2.

-Looks to the ceiling: Get out. Game over man…game over.

-Holds the gaze: Game on! Or if she’s really drilling some eye holes into you, perhaps walk away. Unless, of course, you’re into the creeper vibe.

Engaging: Now this is a sticky widget of a situation to be a part of. Men, most women want you to do the engaging. Sure we have equal rights, but it doesn’t mean we don’t want special treatment. We are your Aphrodite incarnate, and thus you must come to us.

Now don’t say anything stupid. Don’t talk about your anatomy. Don’t talk about our anatomy. Don’t talk about how you’d like to wear her like a hockey mask. It’s a safe bet if it’s a conversation you could have with your boss. Nothing fancy, noth­ing terrible. Just get a foot in the door. Buying her a drink is a plus, but only if she’s reciprocating your flirtatious banter. If she does any of the eye movements, check the list above to find out if you’re in the game or not. Most likely you’re not and she’s just being nice. If nothing else, being drunk can, and sometimes does, help the nerves, but obviously drink in moderation. Nobody likes stinky puke-man. Nobody.

Verbal Definitions:

-“Yeah, I’ll call you sometime!”: Lies. All lies. You won’t ever hear from her until you crawl to her first, and she’ll only text back out of guilt. Women rarely call first because we have a complex about it. Men are supposed to call first, though there’s a 2 day delay between the last meeting and the phone call. Also, the 2 day rule? Knock that shit off. We hate it, and it’s part of the reason you’re not getting any. If you genuinely like a girl, call her when you feel like it.

-“No.”: It always means no. If a girl just told you “No,” consider yourself lucky you didn’t waste your time there.

-“Oh that’s/it’s/you’re fine.”: Not a damn thing is fine about any of this. Fine is a precursor to “I’m going to be pissed off no matter what happens”. Fine is that situation in which you’ve done something so wrong there’s no hope of return. You, my friend, are fucked. Fine means if you do what you want, she’s pissed. Fine also means if you do what she wants, she’s pissed because you didn’t immediately go along with or not along with whatever it was you were supposed or not supposed to do. Confused? Try living it.

How to Win While Losing: So you’ve made it to engaging. Is she inter­ested? If not, stop. Just stop. Don’t keep trying, it’s annoying. You’ve failed, at least take some dignity home with you tonight. If she’s receptive? Great! Now, ask her on a date. Be blunt, say something like “I’ve really enjoyed our conversation tonight. Would you mind if I took you out for ____ on ____?” Directness is an attractive thing. Sure, you may get shot down, but if you don’t try you’re alone anyway, right?

What Next: Be a gentleman. Chiv­alry may be dead, but not in you, my friend! In you it thrives as bears on those horny salmon of life. Open doors for her, buy her meal or ticket, don’t look at other chicks while you’re out with her (at least for the first few dates), and for the love of God chew with your mouth closed, take a shower, and dress up! Nothing says “I’m a loser” like a man who can’t dress himself. If we’re embarrassed to be seen in public with you, we will remedy the situation. Quickly.

I’m hopeful these tips will help ev­eryone get what they want. I’m tired of the equal rights dating movement. I want candy, flowers, and a door held open for me time and time again. I want a man to approach me for a date, not a boy snivel­ing around begging for booby scraps. And fellas? I’m not the only one.

Local Writer Publishes Generic Thanksgiving Article, Receives Death Threats: An article about the magic of the Thanksgiving holiday and other lies

Michael Seaholm

Undergraduate/Computer Science

Thanksgiving is a time of year that is notable for two reasons: it is a time to be thankful for all that life has offered to us as well as an excuse for uncontrollable gluttony and excessive consumerism. If you’re like me, you’ve probably noticed that Thanksgiving is slowly being mar­ginalized into some sort of Christmas prologue, good only for those who want a quick fix before the holiday season so they don’t go into withdrawal. Well, for your benefit this week’s article will, from this point forward, concern only the Thanks­giving holiday, specifically the events that transpired during my family’s an­nual Thanksgiving gathering. Like many of you, I have a family and they tend to get pretty wacky around one another, like magnetic proximity-triggered bombs. Luckily, despite overwhelming odds on the contrary, it was a remarkably good Thanksgiving.

I had a very simple mission dur­ing my time at the family gathering that day: to eat everything in the building that could technically be considered edible twice. During the ride over, I meditated upon this grim directive with the fascina­tion of an inmate contemplating his im­minent execution. Would the completion of this daunting task cost me my sanity, nay, my very soul? Turns out it didn’t, but at the same time I was pretty bored and had nothing else to think about. Upon our arrival at my grandmother’s house, I was immediately accosted by my 8-year-old cousin Kyle, whose personality I will try to explain by way of analogy: if you were to invent a machine specifically designed to ruin family gatherings, it would not do so nearly half as effectively as Kyle. Luck­ily, Kyle thinks that I am a pretty cool guy because I know computers and stuff, so when I am visiting, he typically orbits around me like an exceedingly vociferous satellite and karate chops nearby inani­mate objects.

My sister Meg’s boyfriend, David, came down for the occasion to meet the various family members assembled for the Thanksgiving festivities. He was im­mediately greeted by Kyle’s father, Brad, who extended his hand for a customary handshake. It came to my attention, how­ever, that the Packers were playing against the 49ers that day, and through hearsay I learned that David was a 49ers fan. Given that Brad was a huge fan of “The Pack”, as the kids are wont to say nowadays, skin-to-skin contact between the two opposing parties would be inadvisable, as the result­ing explosion would be visible for miles. Glancing at this exchange with the uncar­ing eye of a man for whom death would be a luxury, I took some chips and seven-layer dip, and proceeded to make good on my vow.

After integrating some snacks into my system, I encountered Kyle’s mom, Kim, who came to me with a strange re­quest. For the previous Christmas holi­day (which, although I explicitly stated I would not mention it, is a necessary ele­ment of this anecdote), Kyle had received a board game of unusual complexity called Pirate King. Perhaps I could help the little tyke figure it out? Taking the request as a challenge to my considerable skills in such areas as reading instructional pamphlets, I accepted eagerly. Plus, pirates are typically armed with guns, something with which I could defend myself if Kyle were to get rowdy. Things were sure to get awesome at an exponential rate at this point.

Before I could sit down and assemble the roughly 210,986 pieces needed to play the game, I was waylaid by my grandma Wilma, who complimented me on my fancy hat. I thanked her, and immedi­ately received an Old Fashioned, which we typically exchange along with hearty winks. While I sat down to put together tiny cardboard ships for use in the board game, everybody else was either watching grown men amuse themselves with a ball or attending to the dark rituals required to prepare the turkey for the Thanksgiv­ing feast. While it may seem like I was a drunken roustabout at this point of the story, it is important to note that I was actually attending to a very important function: preventing Kyle from destroy­ing the world by occupying his ant-like brain with a pirate board game.

About 15 hours later, the initial set­up for the game was complete and Kyle and I raced around the Caribbean on tiny ships, much like real pirates did back when pirating was more socially accept­able. Unfortunately, the game seemed to be more about shipping legitimate cargo and avoiding treacherous waters than it was about piracy, a fact that barely made it into my jumbled-up consciousness at the time. Eventually, however, we were called from our maritime chicanery for the Thanksgiving dinner proper, which fea­tured all the classics: turkey, mashed pota­toes and gravy, stuffing, butternut squash, a platter consisting solely of corn dogs, etc. Any food you could possibly imagine was readily available and filled with stuff­ing, including the stuffing itself. While I powered through several plates of food in an old-fashioned haze, Kyle ran about the room like some freaking troubadour, irking out incomprehensible snatches of song.

After the food and the merriment, I was certain that I would not be able to stay awake for very long. Luckily, every­body started shuffling the remaining food into Tupperware containers and the like, making exceedingly quick work of it. It seemed this way at first, at least, until I glanced at a clock and saw that it was well after five in the evening. Realizing that I was caught in a time skip, I did what one would naturally do in such a situation: I fell asleep in the car. When I awoke, I was seated in a cozy armchair back home, one hand holding a copy of Stephen King’s The Stand and the other a smoking pipe. Seeing how I do not own a pipe and am not a smoker, this was particularly befud­dling. At any rate, I had survived Thanks­giving Day, an accomplishment that I cel­ebrated by sleeping through the morning of Black Friday, which I understand had a minimum of fatal trampling this year.

 

Human Rights Coalition Corner

A New Vision

Jason Perry

Undergraduate/PublicRelations

Jared Neumann

Undergraduate/Management

The evolution of our species has cre­ated a plethora of stunning possibilities, and unforgivable instances. Human in­teraction has always been plagued with injustice, inequality, and oppression. In times of war, the lines between right and wrong, good and evil, can be razor thin. Some of the worst acts have been com­mitted, for the “right” reasons.

Practices such as the use of torture to gain information can quickly lead down a dangerous path, defying underlying mor­als that should be inherent to every human being. In 2008, former president George W. Bush vetoed a bill passed by Con­gress that would have banned the use of many “extreme” interrogation techniques. Some of these techniques included beat­ing, burning, or otherwise inflicting harm; subjecting prisoners to hypothermia; sub­jecting prisoners to mock executions and withholding food, water, or medical treat­ment. Bush’s reasoning was “that intelli­gence officials have all the tools they need to stop the terrorists,” Bush explains. The vetoed legislation “would diminish these vital tools.”

This is nothing short of total support for the use of torture, and unfortunately, conflict in today’s modern world contin­ues to follow this trend.

But it does not have to conform to the practices of the past.

President Obama recently an­nounced that 30,000 more troops will be sent to Afghanistan, in an attempt to suppress the remaining areas of conflict. Worldwide human rights organization Amnesty International has recently urged Obama to instate a senior human rights officer to investigate all abuses commit­ted by U.S. troops and others connected to the military offensive.

Although this seems like something that is unnecessary, by taking this initia­tive President Obama has the power to show his concern for Afghani citizens, as well as his objective of increasing security in the region. This would be a new type of mentality, expressing the desires of the United States to spread democracy and peace, without unnecessary aggressive be­havior.

In the past U.S. troops have com­mitted acts of human rights abuse, such as the atrocities that occurred at Abu Ghraib. Learning from these experiences, we now understand that a series of checks and balances needs to be implemented to ensure that the U.S. is following interna­tional human rights law.

These new standards will hopefully provide a benchmark for other countries to live up to when dealing with human rights abuse. Even in a modern conflict there can be civility between the invader and hosting country.

Despite the hardships of conflict, mankind should never lose their sense of humanity, and creating these checks and balances would be evidence that a foot is being put forward in the right direction.

 

Po(e)tpourri

A year in the lives of the people of the Mustard Manor

David Steinfeld

Undergraduate/Psychology

Have there ever been as many seconds

of anger and confusion

or content and gratitude

anywhere but our dear house?

Garbage bins spilling over with beer cans,

fogs of THC and cigarette smoke,

screams, slamming doors, and tears,

hugs and counselling sessions on couches,

our way to survive the times,

when the rain never seems to stop,

and we cry to be saved by Peter Pan

for a life as simple and soothing

as the pacifiers we received

when we didn’t ask for much.

We all question if we were better off

without all this downpour.

But would we really laugh as hard

in moments of comedy and absurdity,

when the sun is finally on the rise again

and we pass around the peace pipe,

singing more loudly than ever before:

“I am gonna make it, through this year,

if it kills me.”

Burn

Robert Heintz

Undergraduate/Business Administration

You are here, I can feel you. Your warmth, it comforts my cold skin. The touch of your hand, the smell of your hair, the look in your eyes - they melt away the cold. My heart beats slow and hard...Fhmmmp-Fhmmp.....Fhmmmp-Fhmmp. Our em­brace shatters my world, as time falls away. Nothing exists, but you. Your lips tremble as they press against mine. I lose my­self in your voice, as you whisper to me...A trick of the brain... I awaken, you are not here. I fight against my mind, forc­ing shards of the dream back into my thoughts. Grasping for something that is no longer there... Another day...I prepare for the day, unsure of what to expect. This life has led me through ex­periences I shall not forget. My mind knows what my heart cannot. My mind knows reason, fear, deception and empti­ness. My heart knows only hope. Fear­lessly, my heart leads me onward, never surrendering its control over my mind. Time drags on, and my heart grows tired.

Never stopping, only slowing.

Reason... Fear... Doubt... My mind sub­merges me in thoughts. I am drowning - with lungs that gasp for escaped air. My lungs burn, begging to breathe in air, where only water exists... Breathe in fear, breathe in doubt. I am surrounded by it... Hold on heart. Fight against the burn.

 

Nonsense

Lisa BrancaccioUndergraduate/Print Journalism

Dear potential poem,

Why do you alwayshave to be aboutsomething?Is it impossiblefor you to becomprised of aseries of wordswith absolutely notraces of over-emotionalteenage girlwith a shit ton ofteen angstand bitternesstowards men?Apparently, yes.But really,I’m so fuckingsick of writing.If I could, I would just submitto Flipsidemy raised middle finger and tell themto publish it.Because sometimes, that’s really all I needto say.While I’m on thesubject of sayingwhat I need to say, I should probably saythat all studentsshould keep their eyesand ears openfor news about Putnam’s annual LoveStock shindig.(See how slyly I included that inmy poem, Sam?)I’m so clever.I should probablywrap this up, though.My fish are hungryand I can see thembegging me with their eyes to feed them.They are literallygeeking out intheir tank right now.So long, Flipside readers.Sorry to disappoint.

Love, Lisa

P.S: potential poem, you are a crazy fuck.

Reflections (on the World)

Kara Wisniewski

Undergraduate/Social Work

She looks through the window

and sees a girl looking back at her

A girl who lost her innocence years ago

A girl who doesn’t remember who she used to be

A girl whose smile makes you want to cry

A girl who the world forgot and left behind

She stares at the girl

And her heart just breaks

Because as she presses her hand against the glass

She realizes the girl is she and she is everyone

“I Write Poems in Public at Starbucks”

Sarah Schrupp

Undergraduate/UndeclaredI’m sitting here at Starbucks with my iced moccachino,Talking to a man by the name of Roy Rodino.To sit in here, you must wear head-to-toe black.If you don’t, we will say you’re ‘wiggity, wiggity, whack.’I sit here all day, because it’s here my poems are made.Who needs a job where you actually get paid?I will never ever work for the man.Because that would be giving into the industry’s plan.I’ll knit my own toilet paper,I’ll use my toothbrush for a windshield scraper.Because a cubicle is not where I belong.It would be wrong,to work for Mr. Corporation all day long.

Stuck

Taryn Maslanka

Undergraduate/Undeclared

Life! Escapes from me into the sea

beneath my abyss

A pinch of pain consumes me

Not all has left me for I still feel the pressure

I work hard to relieve my soul

of this treachery

My insides rip as my head spins

“Why me?”

I ask God in the back of my mind

But the only answer is silence

I try harder to free myself

And eventually I succeed

It is gone

And a thing of the past

It is no longer stuck within me

I look down and watch it vanish from my life

I am safe until the next time

When we meet again

 

Animal Facts - Vol. IV – Desert Animals

Patrick Fritz-Morkin

Undergraduate/Information Systems

Ben Villwock

Undergraduate/Environmental and Public Heath

To dissipate heat, Owls, Poorwills and Nighthawks gape open-mouthed while rapidly fluttering their throat re­gion to evaporate water from their mouth cavities.

The King Snake gets its name from eating other types of snakes, and is most famous for eating Rattlesnakes, Copper­heads, and Coral Snakes.

The Roadrunner’s nasal gland ex­cretes excess salt instead of through the urinary tract, thus helping it to retain wa­ter.

The Desert Tortoise is able to live where ground temperature can exceed 140 °F.

The Kangaroo Rat has specialized or­gans that retain more water. Their kidneys pull most of the water from their urine, and much exhaled moisture is reabsorbed through naval cavities.

The Desert Pupfish can inhabit water over 100 °F. and also tolerate high levels of salt in waters where they live.

Dictation for a Dictator: Power corrupts. Absolute power is kinda neat.

Alric Rahl

Whether you take power legally – like Napoleon – or illegally like the majority of others, I recommend a coup d’état (if you’re in Taiwan file the paperwork cor­rectly, trust me). They’re fun and get the job done. Storming the presidential pal­ace or congress is an effective, swift way to the top. It’s an excellent way to secure your absolute authority. An alternate method is forming a revolution, though it takes time and can be risky, more risky than a coup. With this route your ideals form the basic principle of your future regime. Revolu­tions have a big payoff: popular support, counter-revolutionaries to blame, and a nation yearning for stability. Note: revo­lutions are a chaotic and messy period, a perfect time to silence your enemies. If you go the coup route, try to make it bloodless. History will look more favor­ably on you. If there is bloodshed, this is yet another excellent opportunity to rid yourself of any opposition. Remember to reward your generals and supporters. You can’t buy their loyalty or trust, but you can buy their silence and obedience. Discredit your opposition, make them the enemy, and offer what your opposition cannot, even if you have no intention of fulfilling your promises – elected officials do this all the time. After your initial opposition is defeated, establishing new enemies can deter you from fulfilling your promises as it requires you to divert your time, atten­tion, and resources. Remember: promises are few, enemies are abundant.

Myrmidons! You need myrmidons! Your few trusted advisors, yes trusted! You will need to have at least five minions you can trust – I would suggest placing these loyal men or women as heads of your Secret Police, Propaganda, Military, and other key positions in government. Whatever you do, do not choose a succes­sor until you are dying, on your deathbed, or post-mortem in your will (whether they honor this request or not. You did try to save your empire from civil war). Sur­rounding yourself with “yes men” is good for the ego, but bad for your empire. Make sure to have some advisors that disagree with you, but never in public – you are, after all, infallible. If that unthinkable situation should arise, get rid of the un­worthy—car accidents, plane crashes, and skiing accidents are after all, common oc­currences. ;)

Once in power, form an omnipres­ent, all-knowing Secret Police, but give it a snazzy name like the National Peace­keeping Force or the General Security Directorate; something fun like that. Try to make it long so that it requires an ac­ronym, these few letters will be feared and live in infamy – like the KGB or Salazar’s PIDE. This overly financed agency will ensure your rule and keep the populace in check. Believe me, they will extinguish any embers of dissent. Their invaluable in­formation will help you to know who to trust, who to keep an eye on, and of course who needs to be “dealt” with. Make sure the people know that your Secret Police are everywhere and could be anyone. It should be known that no citizen can sit down to a meal without each dish being duly noted and recorded by this organiza­tion.

Creating a large, multi-layered, high­ly bureaucratic, single-party government is a perfect way to make the people think they have a say. Make sure that at least 40% of your people are party members. Since it will take years for a simple re­quest, or even better, an appeal to be pro­cessed by the government, you can easily ignore all the promises you made earlier – unlike your power, your resources are limited. The more layers and inter-cross-connections the better. This is effective because two or more committees will be responsible for the same thing, ergo mak­ing them powerless and you not. For ex­ample: Committee A makes a blunder but is without fault, as it was Committee B’s and C’s responsibility to monitor and regulate Committee A. However, Com­mittee D comes in to fix the blunder, but Committee E and F are in place to regu­late Committee D. Also, Committee D must have at least two sub-committees; this will create confusion and inefficiency. Then you come in to solve the problem with some executive order; this will please the people and show them you have their best interests at heart. You need to create an elaborate system of checks and bal­ances that are confusing and slow down, if not halt, government progress. Once the government cannot operate without vetoes from on high for even the most basic functions and policy changes, you gain control. Once you have an invisible and definitive swing vote, you can dictate your absolute authority over the state, the people, and the government.

It can be difficult to ensure your rule. Therefore, propaganda is a must, but never use this ill-favored term. Call it “Popular Enlightenment.” The people should know that only your government knows what’s best for them; after all you are the pater patriae. Forming a personality cult will help cultivate your absolute authority over the totalitarian regime, that seeks to radi­cally alter or transform society according to your revolutionary new ideas. As single leader, you are the conductor of this revo­lutionary transformation, and come to be treated as a benevolent “guide” for the na­tion, without whom the transformation to a better future cannot occur. Begin large public works, like a grand mausoleum that will immortalize you as the Savior of the People. Indoctrinate the youth by setting up paramilitary youth organizations and encourage children to join; later you can make it mandatory. As leader you need to be respected, loved, and feared; but don’t let their fear ferment into hatred that can come back to haunt you. Keep a tight grip on the press and control everything the people see and read. Naturally, create state run news agencies but have some “independent” ones as well. They don’t even need to be credible, reliable, or even factual – just look at Fox News or Russia’s state radio. People are ignorant, so keep ‘em that way.

When it comes to religion, either get rid of it – why should they be devoted to anyone other than you? – or keep it. But remember that people are fickle and unreasonable about their religion, so logi­cally, declare yourself ordained by God to rule – monarchs have been doing this for millennia and so does the Pope – after all you have given yourself divine intel­ligence, and the providence to lead the people upon a glorious new path of mo­rality. You answer to no one but God, so who could possibly question you? People blindly follow stuff like that, just look at cults: the Catholic Church, the Christian-right, religious extremists, or the followers of Fred Phelps. Use propaganda to get the people to become fanatical. Turn them into zealots in their devotion to you as God’s chosen vicar on earth.

And most importantly, have fun! Making a difference means very little to authoritarians. Leading a totalitarian re­gime can be stressful, very stressful. You are going to have to make decisions that will anger a lot of people (but don’t worry, you have your Secret Police to deal with them!). You are going to have blood on your hands (probably a LOT). So set up a small private retreat—and by small I mean huge—and tasteful—and by taste­ful I mean gaudy— so you can relax and unwind.

Ruling absolutely is awesome; oth­erwise people would never become dicta­tors! And never forget, you’re doing it all for the people.

Thursday Night on Water Street

Courtney Parker

Undergraduate/Political Science

I should’ve known coming home from work at 10pm., that there would be no spots in my parking lot, or any spots on any of the surrounding streets. So I parked my car on Water Street, as I had done before without problems. I then changed out of my work clothes and went to meet up with friends for a drink or two. Well you know how it goes, two drinks become three drinks, three drinks be­come “Let’s get a round of shots!” which becomes “We need another drink to use as a chaser”, and so on and so forth until bar close. Stumbling home, I decided to do the responsible thing and not move my car, since I was rather aware that my level of inebriation was beyond legal limit. I had parked my car on Water Street before when there had been no parking spots left in my lot, or room on the streets behind, and had no issues.

The next morning at about 5:50am., slightly hung over and not exactly thrilled with myself for staying out until bar close when I had to work at 6am., I walked my­self to my car only to find a lovely white paper shoved in my windshield wipers. “What the fuck?” I mumbled to myself in my morning half-awakenedness. It was a parking ticket! Confused, I looked around and noticed signs stating, “No Parking 2am. to 6am.” “What the hell kind of purpose does that serve?” I asked my­self, rather pissed off since I had parked overnight on Water Street before when I worked at 6am. and hadn’t received a ticket. Feeling much more awake with my angry confusion, I re-read the no park­ing sign. Yes, I had it right the first time. “No Parking from 2am. to 6am.” Again, I asked myself, “What purpose does this serve? To force people who have left their cars there to move them at bar close?” The City of Eau Claire was demanding drunk driving!

Now if they had one night a week designated for street cleaning, and I parked there on that night and got a ticket, I would completely understand. If it was snowing and they needed to plow the streets, and my car was in the way, I would have completely understood get­ting a ticket. But no; every night there is no parking! So every night that you can’t find a spot in your Water Street parking lot, and you can’t find a spot on the streets near your apartment, and the only place to park your car after work is Water Street itself; you must move your car. Well when I’ve got to work at 6am., I don’t exactly enjoy having to walk 5 blocks to my car. And when I’ve been out drinking, well let’s just say, unlike the City of Eau Claire, I don’t encourage drinking and driving.

As if this was not bad enough, the City of Eau Claire decided to make the paying off of my ticket as difficult as pos­sible. Having a full time job and attend­ing school, I don’t get a ton of free time to go down to the city hall. And being someone who uses e-mail not snail-mail, I don’t own stamps to send payment. Plus, unless given a receipt for sending a check through the mail, there is no way I would trust my money going all the way to Mil­waukee. Yes, that’s right, Milwaukee. It turns out that after my attempts to pay at city hall were thwarted by their lack of understanding that people work and have class, I had been sent a letter from the De­partment of Motor Vehicles stating that my license plates were suspended due to my lack of payment of this ticket. Fantas­tic! So not only had my ticket gone up in price due to my inability to get to city hall on time, it now became illegal for me to drive my car.

Fine, I thought, this new letter claims I now make the payment at the police station. On to the police station I went with my $55 in hand. I was left only with cash, having had financial trouble with my bank and not having enough money in my account to write a check. By now, I was happy to just give the city this money and be done with it. This however, was not the case. The lady at the desk informed me that cash was a bad idea since the pay­ment was mailed to Milwaukee. Yes, like I said, Milwaukee. The City of Eau Claire processes its payments in Milwaukee. Apparently the City of Eau Claire is not good enough for the City of Eau Claire and they must outsource jobs to Milwau­kee, and make it impossible to pay tickets in cash. I mean really, if I can barely trust a check going through the mail without a receipt, do you really think I’m going to send cash? I asked the woman at the front desk of the police station if she could at least give me a receipt to prove that I had sent the cash, since it was my last resort and it was all I had. I needed to pay this ticket so I could legally drive to work. She refused. She told me to go to Kwik Trip and get a money order, or to pay online with a check or credit card. “I can pay on­line?” I asked her. “Yes,” she replied giving me no more details than that, and mak­ing it seem as though I was interrupting her busy day of no one else coming to her desk to bother her.

Apparently this entire time I could’ve paid my ticket online. Back when I first got the ticket and had plenty of funds in my account, I would have GLADLY paid the ticket online. I looked over my ticket, and all the letters sent to me from the city and the state about my ticket and NONE of them said anything about paying on­line. So now here I am, in December, with a parking ticket from September, a vehicle that is now illegal for me to drive, and all of this because I didn’t drink and drive. Thanks City of Eau Claire, and I hope that when you finally allow me to pay my ticket, you use the profit towards more “green space” for the city; gotta keep up our city’s image!

Ibuprofen: The New Ecstasy

Sarah Schrupp

Undergraduate/Undeclared

Sex. Drugs. Rock ‘n Roll. Eau Claire has experienced this trinity of tempta­tions all within the past 30 days. Sex: cucumbers in campus cafeterias, along with numerous towers on campus sus­piciously resembling certain male anat­omy. Rock ‘n Roll: contraband jazz fra­ternities are beginning to come out of the woodwork, one band even going as far as to toot their devil horns and sa­tanic drums out in public. And now, much to the dismay of Eau Claire offi­cials, drugs: Ibuprofen has been reported to be circulating around campus, after drug lords from the West Coast smuggled in caseloads of California’s finest pills. An anonymous tipster told cam­pus police that students are taking Ibu­profen (or “little reds” as the kids call it on the streets) in doses as large as 400 mg at a time. For those unaware, 400 mg is the equivalent of TWO PILLS. Common effects of “little red” include temporary relief from headaches, muscu­lar aches, arthritis, toothaches, backaches, and even going as far as the reduction of a fever. Students recently took a poll on this nasty devil’s pill. The results are grim. It is reported that out of the 800 students that took the poll, a cataclysmal 92% of them admitted to having taken “little reds” in the past 28 days to relieve feelings of achi­ness or a headache. 4% admitted to using alternatives to Ibuprofen, such as Tylenol and Advil which produce the same effects. Another disturbing fact discovered by the same poll is that only 32% of col­lege kids are aware the little red pill they are so fond of is a gateway drug for harder substances such as Tylenol PM and Vitamins. Written at the end of an anonymous poll, obviously by a very dis­turbed individual, is the following: “Vi­tamins? Hombre, I’m already on those. I take one every morning with my toast, unless I forget. I just love the feeling of Vitamin C and D pumping through my system. It’s more powerful than ven­om.” Officials speculate the individual’s mention of “toast” is a substance often mixed with vitamins to further the effects. In an attempt to stifle the distribu­tion of Ibuprofen, authorities are going to drastic measures. Officer Kremlin, a campus cop, says, “Yeah, we tried setting up a few drug lord busts. We hear those low-lifes will not only supply pupils with “little reds,” but even go as far as to open the child-proof caps on the bottles for students, since many addicts are unable to open them themselves. So what I did was I sat in one of the dorm’s lobbies at 10 PM, and just- you know- tried to open the IB bottle… all very casually, mind you. Not two minutes after I started try­ing, a guy came by, saw me struggling, and opened the bottle for me! That’s when I knew I had him. So I jumped up, and cuffed the bastard. He pretended to play dumb… said he didn’t know Ibuprofen was illegal. So then I says to him, I says, ‘Oh, I bet you didn’t know kissing your cousin was either,’ that really got him.” Measures are also being taken by professors to stop Ibuprofen from fur­ther damaging our campus. The board of Professors Exterminating Nuisances in School, (also known as the board with the unfortunate acronym) met on December 2 to discuss cutting students off from their beloved pill. Vice president, Sally Wheel, suggested putting a dome over campus to stop the flow of Ibuprofen from coming in. Chair member, Petey Silicon, yelled out, while brandishing a sword from his impossibly deep Dockers pocket, “Let’s cut off the hands of students so they can’t open the child-proof bottles!” Fi­nally, however, the board agreed to let the problem solve itself and instead go out and party on Water Street. “Once there,” states President Bill Buckley, “We are going to be doing things like not get­ting drunk, not hiring Daisy, our favorite stripper, and not taking Ibuprofen for the hangovers we will inevitably get the next morning from our wild professor adven­tures… yeah.”

14 The Flip Side EC 5-0 v. The 4th

Andy Boden

Undergraduate/Political Science

As a college student, I like to drink every now and then. As an American citizen, I believe in the importance of civil liberties. As a resident of Eau Claire, I have been observant to how prone the Eau Claire Police Department is when it comes to violating people’s Fourth Amendment rights over alcohol-related offenses. And as a contributor to a free-speech publication, I’m not afraid to say “Fuck the police!” I’m sure many of you feel that since Eau Claire is a relatively safe town with a low crime rate, the police have nothing better to do than go around and find parties to bust, especially when they have a quota to meet. Unfortunately, sometimes the tactics they use tend to be quite abusive to the Fourth Amendment, which entitles us to freedom from unrea­sonable search and seizure. And most of these victims tend to be college students who usually don’t have the time and mon­ey to fight their tickets.

Granted underage drinking is against the law and there’s a certain level of re­sponsibility that comes with it. However, there’s also a certain level of responsibility that the police must carry when it comes to ensuring people’s rights to due process, whether it’s for something as minor as an underage drinking offense, or something as major as murder or rape (see Miranda v. Arizona, 384 U.S. 436 (1966)). The Fourth Amendment rights of college stu­dents in this town have been abused, and I have the examples to prove it.

In the fall of 2007, two underage college students were amongst a group of students who were caught at a busted house party. Unlike the rest of those caught, these two students were hiding from the police in a locked bedroom, and one of these students was a resident of the house. Nonetheless, the police unscrewed the doorknob from the locked door and cited the two students for underage drinking.

Granted the police had probable cause to search the house, but this inci­dent is still deemed “unreasonable” under the Fourth Amendment’s Search and Sei­zure Clause. This incident is legally simi­lar to Katz v. United States, 389 U.S. 347 (1967). In that case, the FBI not only had probable cause to investigate Katz, but they also obtained a warrant to investigate him. They did this by placing a recording device outside the telephone booth that Katz used to illegally transmit gambling information to other states. However, once Katz closed the door behind him, his expectation of privacy was height­ened. The Supreme Court ruled that be­cause Katz had a reasonable expectation of privacy, the evidence gathered from the recording device could not be used as evidence because the search conducted by the FBI was unreasonable. While Katz’s arrest happened in a more public setting, the two college students were in a private setting, so their expectation of privacy was even more reasonable. It should also be noted that the Supreme Court stressed the point in Payton v. New York, 445 U.S. 573 (1980), that the greatest expectation of privacy is in one’s home.

Earlier this fall, two students were pulling out of the parking lot of a local li­quor store. The driver, who was underage, was spotted by police pulling out of the parking lot the wrong way. At the time, the driver was with her 21-year-old friend who was sitting in the passenger’s seat and possessing alcohol that she bought from the liquor store. The police cited her for transporting alcohol.

First of all, this instance is no differ­ent than a 16-year-old kid driving home from the grocery store with his dad af­ter purchasing a six pack. Secondly, this incident draws similarities to Knowles v. Iowa, 525 U.S. 113 (1998). In that case, the police stopped Knowles and issued him a citation for speeding. Right af­terwards, the police searched his car and found marijuana. The Supreme Court ruled that the search of his car was unrea­sonable and that the Fourth Amendment protects people’s cars from being searched after minor traffic offenses. However, the alcohol could have been in plain sight when the student was pulled over. This still does not justify the police’s actions. The Supreme Court ruled in Wyoming v. Houghton, 526 U.S. 295 (1999), that passengers are not protected from being searched. The reason for this is because if passengers are carrying contraband on them, the driver cannot try to protect them by claiming that all the contraband in the car belongs just to him/her. This establishes differences in ownership. In this case however, the passenger had le­gally purchased the alcohol and no appar­ent alcohol-offense had been committed.

One night this past summer, one un­derage student was walking with a friend to her friend’s house. She had a minimal amount to drink and did not appear to be drunk. However, the police stopped her anyway and gave her a breathalyzer test. In this case, the police did not have probable cause. Instead, they stopped her because she appeared to be college-age, and because it was a Friday night, many college-age people were out at the bars.

This is a clear violation of the Fourth Amendment. The Supreme Court estab­lished the proper rules for stopping and searching someone, or stopping and frisk­ing, in Terry v. Ohio, 391 U.S. 1 (1968). In that case, the police officer noticed the suspicious activity of three individu­als who appeared to be plotting a robbery. After the officer stopped these three men, he asked for their names. When one of the men, Terry, mumbled his response, probable cause was established for the of­ficer to search him and a concealed gun was found. In the incident involving the student last summer, the police did not stop her based on suspicious activity, but rather because she fit the profile of some­one who would be drinking based on her age. And since she had very little to drink that night, it is unlikely that the cop would have smelled alcohol, and therefore probable cause would not have been es­tablished.

I’m sure many of you have your own stories of how the police have violated your Fourth Amendment rights for alco­hol-related offenses, and I encourage you to know your rights and to know your op­tions. This kind of behavior is unaccept­able, and the consequences can be costly. Other than paying a fine and having an alcohol offense on your record, you or your parents’ car insurance rates will in­crease, even if you weren’t driving. The police know that college students do not have a lot of time or money to fight these charges, but it’s still completely inexcus­able for them to behave in a manner that violates our civil liberties. The next time something like this happens to you or someone you know, seek legal advice. You can even do that here on campus through Legal Services. The bottom line is sim­ply this: do NOT let them get away with this!

Before I close, I would like to thank my friend and Editor-in-Chief Sara Ad­ams for all her hard work and dedication to The Flip Side. Without her, none of this would have ever been possible, and it has been a privilege working with her. Thank you, Sara, and good luck after graduation.

 Pages from the Music Journal 11

Ted Waldbillig

Undergraduate/English

Rush - Snakes and Arrows (2007 LP)

December 2007 - In this year’s Snakes and Arrows, Rush is here to tell you pre­cisely how they feel about the world today and just about everything having to do with their inner-selves. The album isn’t lyr­ically impressive per say, but since when in the last twenty-five years or so have many old-timer, seen-their-time progressive rock bands been? Instead, the audience is played a functionalist explanation about the lack of faith in the government, in the way the world is turning, and in faith… all backed by the supreme proficiency. But it has been done quite a few times before, especially by older bands. In the end, Snakes and Arrows comes off as being Rush’s two cents on politics and foreign policy as if to say: “Hey! We don’t agree with how Bush handles things, either!” …Lest they appear ignorantly passive. While it’s good to know that the band has some sense when it comes to these things, it’s old news. It would have been hip about five years ago, when the first bands who truly disagreed with U.S. politics were making a statement. Bounce into the future, 2007, and the Bush Ad­ministration has lost approval. Even those previously behind Bush’s methods are becoming skeptical; he’s losing rat­ings. Unfortunately, this allows for the possibility that Rush are ex-patriots of the conservative kind. It’s something highly unlikely, but it’s one of those things that nag in the back of your mind. Snakes and Arrows definitely has its moments, but those moments are more or less forgettable in the long run. “The Way the Wind Blows” is the centerpiece of the album, both conceptually and physically. It makes the clearest among a plethora of unambiguous statements. The follow­ing “Hope” is a pretty instrumental that skips from the recognizable major scale noodling to recognizable minor scale noodling. Surprisingly enough, I discov­ered that Rush had never once recorded an instrumental song. Three examples find their way onto Snakes and Arrows. “Armor and Sword” is another top-runner with its unabashed explanation of the album title and intriguing instru­mentation, but that’s about it. Now, I’ve never been a huge fan of Rush, although I’ve been getting into some of their older albums over the last few months and I must say, I think they had a lot to show for themselves in those days. The inven­tive progressive nature of these older al­bums inevitably overshadows the guitar play of Snakes and Arrows. What I mean is, if I can listen to 2112 and earlier such masterpieces, why would I listen to Snakes and Arrows more than a few times? The latter just lacks the impression and legacy that is Rush. It somehow seems very un-progressive with medium-length, repeat­ed structure songs. This is one last minor quip: if I’m going to listen to progressive rock, I don’t want six-minute, heavily cho­rused, hard rock songs.

John Coltrane - A Love Supreme (1965 LP)

April 2008 - A man looking to pro­duce a gift God finds transcendence in the music itself. Indeed, if there ever were a fitting enough, beautiful enough gift to God, A Love Supreme would be it. This is Coltrane at the height of his career and his life. The following years would find him collapse to drug problems, (as some would argue) overly free experimentation, and finally die. Luckily, A Love Supreme will live on into infinity, at least hopefully. It seems hyperbolic to say so, but this song cycle is a masterwork that was born miraculously from the ether itself. If one needed proof, they need only listen to the interlude of the first part of “Acknowledg­ment,” or the horn chorus of “Resolution,” or even the piano play on the first solo break. A Love Supreme doesn’t express the same Love as on Ella and Louis, it’s fast and merciless, bountiful yet challenging. It’s many things that God isn’t, yet heavenly. Still, Coltrane’s style isn’t always agreeable. Some critics claim his soloing is misguided and antithetical. Others, like myself, find the directions with merit and interest. While there aren’t any hooks in Coltrane’s sax, there are unforget­table statements of confidence and ques­tion. Was the world ready for it in 1965? Again, it was late in the game for jazz, and the genre’s best musicians were either re­inventing themselves (e.g., Miles Davis) or reinventing the genre, like Coltrane. I think the answer is yes; the world is still ready for A Love Supreme. Out­side of jazz circles it’s an unknown side work, especially for people my age. It’s a silly, extreme example of interpretive jazz. It’s in danger of becoming nothing more than an entertaining white elephant. To me, it’s an artistic and spiritual zenith. 24 July 2009 - I wonder what the times are like in Heaven.?

Girl Talk Feed the Animals (2008 LP)

June 2008 - k it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Work it! Wo

(Masterful at times. ‘That shitty workout music’ at others)

Dave Brubeck Quartet - Time Out (1959 LP)

August 2008 - I have a friend who once owned Dave Brubeck Quartet’s Time Out on vinyl. It was an original pressing and we spun it once. Brubeck was being opened up to how jazz was changing in 1959; what it would become in the 60s. This pristine, adventurous, yet easy jazz album resides in a strange world where jazz doesn’t really sound like jazz. If you want to know what I’m talking about, lis­ten to the opening track. Sometimes, the quartet dips into Sunday-morning-stroll pop and back into complex saxophone-strings over and over, the piano plodding about.

I can’t get much more precise. As with any jazz album, you really just have to sit down and absorb it. There are no sing-along-choruses, no memorable, elat­ing jam solos, and no exfoliating pastes... just unplanned days.

School of Seven - Bells Alpinisms (2008 LP)

December 2008 - Alpinisms sounded extremely exciting - it’s heralded as an­other 2008 shoegaze revival that tinkers with the cogs. However, it turns out that electronics are the main implementation of this update. The familiar smoothing between tracks and hardly-able-to-tell haze works nicely, but not always memo­rably. “Half Asleep” and “My Cabal” are two songs I can pick out and remember. The rest is not a shooting rainbow from mountain-antiquities (as the album cov­er would suggest), it’s a staring into the gleam of the brass and seeing fuzzy gray shadow-shapes.