#ponies # swag

lo e
Current Events
Howto Swag
Tequila Suicide
Men have it hard, too
GoT Exhibition
A Lesson in Secession
9/11’s Tabooed Idol
#Swag Collage
Haal het slechtste uit
Bioshock Infinite
Fall Out Boy
My Little Pony
Poetry Pages
Marnix de Gier [EIC]
Berry Giezen [Co-EIC]
Michelle Everard [Design]
Bianca van der Mark [Editor]
Frank van Drunen [Editor]
Tim Renes [Design]
Irene Theunissen
Iris Schouten
Patrick Hobbelen
Anouska Kersten
J. R. Veenstra
Barbara Dauwerse
Dries de Groot
László Munteán
The Board.
The Editors.
Everybody be cool, this is a robbery!
‘Sup bros?
As we posted in our very first GAG_Mag entry,
we – the board – are holding the association hostage with the threat of running it into the ground if
we do not get our 40% corruption tax. We are close
to reaching that percentage, and we would like to
present our true faces in typical bad guy fashion to
our captives.
So yeah... we, the editors, have been duped into
thinking a #SWAG_Mag was a good idea, and then
convinced everyone else. By now, it is too late to go
back, so we’re just going to go ahead with it, because #YOLO. If you want to know how this fantastic
idea came to be, well... a certain someone (featured
in this mag with a fur coat) made the suggestion
during a committee meeting, and then things suddenly became very real. Although #SWAG-related
things are also very fake, of course. That could
makes for a very interesting discussion, which, for
#SWAG reasons, we left out, because serious discussion is for non-tanned losers.
Anyway, there is still some stuff in here
that is serious and interesting for all you four-eyed
dweebs out there. But if you want to be cool, definitely skip those parts.
Franny Fierce: the silent hard case of the group. Her
menacing stride and massive guns cause a fearful
silence among all the personnel when we storm the
bank. She has a taste for gold and Fort Knox is her
piggy bank. Heavy lock? She has a bigger bomb.
EL-J: the one who screams “THIS IS A STICK-UP!”
and is the first to unleash a round of bullets into
the air upon stepping onto the premises. She means
business. She’s clever, has a blueprint of the building, and ultimately the one with the plan that makes
it look like we failed at the robbery, but actually
Chuckles: the clown of the bunch. While the other
two are working on cracking the vault, he’s rounding
up all the hostages and hitting on the good looking
Now that we are rich we shall disappear into the
night and no one will know what hit them or where
to start investigating. You’ll never discover our true
identities! HA!
Your board,
Francis (Franny Fierce), Els (EL-J), Zuva (Chuckles)
Have a dope-ass time, yo!
On behalf of the committee,
Godberry, King of the Juice
The Manrix, the Grizzly King
This issue’s theme is #[email protected] – but where does
this term come from? The word ‘‘swagger’’ has
been around for centuries. Its etymology is not
entirely certain, but it most probably came from
Old Norse, when it meant ‘‘swaying manner’’
and did not actually have to do anything with
today’s definition (although the #[email protected] walk
definitely has a sway to it). Gradually, though,
it found its way into the English language, then
reached the United States and started to live a
life of its own.
30 April 2013: After 33 years, William Alexander succeeds his mother, Beatrix of Orange-Nassau,
on the Dutch throne. What’s remarkable is that it is
been quite a long time since the Netherlands saw a
male monarch – the last king, William III (image 1),
ruled until his death in 1890, and queens have ruled
this country ever since. Seeing that this issue is about
#[email protected], we have to think about the quality of a true
king, which is naturally the Beard®. Every king,
William III and his predecessors, has sported a
Beard® during his reign; this begs the question why
the current king is still bare-faced – in other words,
where is the king’s #[email protected]? This question was not
lost on the Dutch, some of whom caused an internetsplosion by launching Facebook pages like ‘‘Zonder
Baard, Geen koning’’ (‘’No Beard, No King’’) and NRC
Handelsblad wrote an article featuring citizens wearing knitted beards in support of this cause (image
2). Alas, all was for naught. Still, maybe in the future
the king will see sense, leave the razors, and get his
#[email protected] on.
Iris Schouten
How to SWAG: GTL
(an outside perspective)
These are the important things to remember when you want to live your life #SWAG-style;
the three daily routines to keep your #SWAG at irresistible levels for pulling tail and
generally being a cool dude. Abide by these three guidelines and you will have all the
booty you can count (which could still be very little, since counting math is not #SWAG).
First things first; you need the right outfit to work out.
Weight lifting singlets are the best way to go. Otherwise, just cut up a t-shirt so that the armpits come
down to your waist, and there’s only about a half
inch of fabric coming up over your deltoids. You want
the ladies to see what you got. And you’ll be hitting
on everything that moves in there.
For a good gym session, you need lots of
carbs, so before you go, eat lots of pasta. Then make
a protein shake (with oats and banana, you know
how we do). You say you don’t to ‘roids, but everyone
knows you do.
Now first, you start with some squats. If you
ain’t pushing 200 pounds, you ain’t nothing. After
squats, you do dead lifts, bench press, pull ups, bicep curls and ab crunches. Lots of ab crunches. If
you don’t have a sixpack, you don’t get laid. It’s that
Remember, cardio is for pussies, and ruins
your gains. Shower, and fill up on carbs and protein
again. Prepare for step two.
So in adoration of the best of fist-pumpers, you then
go off to the tanning salon. Tanning is a very important part of your daily routine because without a
crisp brown tan there are no, and there will never
be, bitches. The colour of the tan must be enough to
show that you’re working on it, so don’t be afraid to
stay an hour. Mike ‘The Situation’ has an absolutely
perfect tan, so take that as example.
In the tanning shop you will not only be tanning, but also picking up girls, of course. It is a
popular place where all the cool dudes and chicks
go to get some colour, so it is a perfect meeting spot.
Pro-tip: be shirtless, or at the most have a wife-beater
to show off those muscles you got pumped up in the
gym. Make sure it’s skin tight, and lift up your shirt
every chance you get. Chicks dig lots of tanned skin.
Do your own laundry, you lazy bum! You will never
be able to show that you’re a cool and independent dude without being able to do your own laundry
(even though you still live with your mom). Again,
what is the place everyone has to go if not the laundrette? You have to take all your going-out T-shirts
of course, because they have to be ready for yet another night of heavy partying. Also, girls do a lot of
laundry so they’ll be there in the hundreds. You can
show off your tan and muscles. Make sure you look
like a rockstar, because you can’t just look awesome
only when going out. You have to look awesome all
the time so girls can see all the time how cool you
If you stick with this you’ll never be short of
attention from women ever again. The gym for a body
the girls want, the tanshop for the skin the girls want,
and the laundry for the clothes the girls want.
Now, with all you’ve learned, go party like
YOLO and party hard.
Frank van Drunen & Marnix de Gier
How to Make the Most of
Your Tequila Suicide; or
the Classy Girls’ Clubbin’
When me and my girl #poezenstaartje go out,
it all starts with the preparation. Cuz it is essential to look good fo dem fellahz. Who knows
what stud ya might wobble into?
First, put on your favourite Ke$ha or Lil’
Wayne track to get into the party mood and
find your signature move. Remember, practice
makes perfect. You might wanna open that bottle of vodka at this point to smoothen things up
a bit. Eeeverything goes better with alcohol and
if not, at least you won’t be there to notice it.
Tips fo tha ladiezz from tha Lster
Tan. Tan, tan, tan. That’s the best advice we
have. If you don’t reach Ibiza every other weekend to
go partying and sunbathing, use self-tanning powder,
spray, or cream! Special gloves and brushes to do
this can be found for a good price at Primark.
Short hair? You cray-cray? Them boyz don’t
like boyish hair! Use extensions if you don’t have
long hair yourself. Never mind that it’s fake: nobody
will notice anyway! Just like fake nails, they’re great
as well. Don’t cha forget the leopard design nail art!
Next tip for your hair: fuzzy or curly is not so
swag. Straighten it every day, your aim is for it to be
real smooth, just like a Barbie doll. Keep this in mind,
as it will emphasize your inner sweetness. People
might warn you that it damages your hair, but who
needs healthy hair when you got swag?
Tattoos! Because #YOLO
People really like to know and see all of the
awesome things you do, so they might learn how
to have as much swag as you. Do this by tweeting
about everything you do (and #ofcourse you should
#add #hashtags to all of your #tweets)
Best way to look sexy in a photo? Yeah, push
your lips together like you’re giving someone a kiss,
styll. You’ll look hundo p hot.
Get yo swag on!
Barbara Dauwerse
Men Have
it Hard, too
Once upon a time, long ago, before anyone
knew what feminism was and that homosexuality was not a mental disorder, gender identity was stable.
Yeah, right. While the way you were supposed to perform your gender was rather obvious, these straitjackets do not have a whole lot
to do with real life. In fact, there were times in
history the expectations were set too high or
were too rigid to be applicable in reality – and
one of these times occurred in the 90s.
Feminism changed conventional gender roles.
Where before, women were supposed to be the housewives, the mothers, the passive and emotional ones,
they now demanded an expansion of said roles and
wanted a more active role where they could make
money and take care of themselves first. Nothing
wrong with that, and it was way overdue anyway.
However, it is practically impossible to change femininity without it having an effect on masculinity as
well, seeing as how masculinity tends to define itself as ‘not feminine’. If you used to feel masculine
because you brought in the money (it’s an example,
there are many more factors included of course) and
suddenly, your wife wants a job as well, you will
have to live with the fact that your family is not
solely dependent on you anymore. If your (gender)
identity is based on that, it takes time to create a new
identity that you are comfortable performing.
This is what happened in the 90s. Anything
the men defined themselves with, women (and to a
certain extent, homosexuals) wanted and were allowed to do too. Not only that, but women demanded
their men to change as well; they now had to be in
touch with their feelings, communicate, take care of
their appearance. This was the opposite of what the
straitjacket of masculinity said they had to do, and
many men felt stuck between a rock and a hard
place. A crisis was born.
As is the case with most changes in society the last
few decades, this crisis comes back in popular culture. I am currently researching the link between the
crisis and Big Time Rush, for instance, and I find
that theyreinforce the ‘new man’, who is in touch with
his masculine and feminine side, by portraying the
one character who is at ease with his identity very
positively. When Logan cross-dresses, it is not used
jokingly, while when James, the character who tries
hard to be a man but fails, does the same thing it
is always played as a joke. However, the most masculine character on the show (Kendall) is portrayed
as the most stable and in control character, which
adheres to the old gender roles.
Gender is not who you are, but what you do.
We can thank Judith Butler for these words of wisdom.
However, when what you are supposed to do is in
conflict with what you want to do, or were taught to
do, people become unsure of who they are and have
to find their own identity again, since not many people have the guts to disregard society’s expectations.
There is only one thing that is certain, and that is that
masculinity will never be the same again.
Irene Theunissen
Game of Thrones’ will come alive for fans
in an immersive, not-to-be-missed touring
exhibition that will transport viewers into
the breathtaking and enchanted world of
Westeros.” That’s what the official exhibition website (game-of-thrones-exhibition.
com) states, anyway. When we heard the
exhibition would also be coming to Amsterdam, I have to admit I wasn’t all that
enthused about it. I like the series well
enough, sure, and I’m sad to say I haven’t
had time to read the books yet (but it’s
very much on my summer to-do list!), but
I wasn’t sure what to expect of a church
filled with “more than 70 original artifacts”.
Still, we had planned to be in the Amsterdam area for the weekend anyway and it
was free. Why not?
I have to say, though, it was more impressive than I had expected. It’s pretty awesome to see props and clothes ‘in the flesh’ so
to speak. You get a much better idea of their
actual size and texture (I nearly subtitled this
review ‘wow, so Dany is actually that tiny?!’).
It’s nice to see how much detail has been put
into costumes and props. Even though almost
everything (apart from the clothes) is safely
behind glass, it suddenly becomes more real:
you can almost imagine picking up these items
and weighing them in your hand. And then of
course there are the interactive experiences; if
you didn’t mind standing in line once more, you
could have your picture taken while sitting on
a replica of the Iron Throne or be the archer to
set off the Wildfire in Blackwater Bay. I suppose,
all in all, this was about what I expected of a
free exhibition.
The big let-down, however, was the waiting. We arrived to stand in line about forty-five
minutes after the exhibition had opened and our
googlemaps app told us the line was already a
125 metres long by then. Oops. As a result, we
didn’t get to enter the exhibition until one and
a half hours later. (My advice? Bring a book or
a crossword puzzle.) The worst was yet to come,
however. Just as we prepared to finally, finally
enter the Posthoornkerk, we were told that we’d
only be allowed fifteen minutes (twenty at the
most) inside. Granted, the exhibition wasn’t that
big, but fifteen minutes meant rushing past the
displays and taking quick pictures to look at in
detail once back at home, ‘wasting’ five minutes
to get an Iron Throne picture, and eventually
being asked to leave (friendly but firmly) by
one of the security people when we lingered in
front of a display on our way to the door.
On the whole? It was a nice exhibition
and I suppose I shouldn’t complain because
it was free, but I wish they’d rented a proper
venue with enough space - I wouldn’t have
minded paying a small fee if that had meant
being able to look at everything at my own
pace (which would have been thirty minutes,
or forty-five tops). It makes you wonder if they
didn’t realise just how many people would want
to see this.
Bianca van der Mark
A Lesson in
It is always pleasant to read books that refuse to wither with time and that years or even decades after
they were published still succeed in shedding a surprising light on current affairs. Pogo is a case in point.
Pogo is an American comic strip, a daily, created by Walt Kelly (1913-1973) and featuring Pogo Possum and
a host of other animals that inhabit the imaginary yet distinctly southern Okefenokee Swamp. Though the
strip came to an end with the death of its author forty years ago and today mainly lives on in reprints for
collectors, it still has a huge amount of fans (mainly in the US) and is considered by experts to be the most
important political comic strip of the twentieth century. The microcosm of Okefenokee reflected all the main
political and social upheavals of the postwar period. Senator MacCarthy’s communist-hunting activities were
immortalized in the Jack Acid Society, and during the Cuban missile crisis Khrushchev appeared in the
strip as a pig and Castro as a goat. As a moderate liberal Kelly strove for a golden mean in his satire,
but still his sharp and critical depictions met with occasional resistance from overly cautious editors. Kelly
circumvented the problem by creating back-up strips with cuddly bunnies and non-offensive gags. Editors
who applauded Kelly’s critique, however, would move the strip to the editorial page.
Some satires ripen with time.
In Prisoner of Love (a collection from
1969 with material from the late sixties) there is an episode with Wiley
Catt and Deacon Mushrat who discuss a plan with Ol’ Mole to secede
and found a new country. The right
of secession has haunted the American Republic ever since its inception
(reaching a head in 1860 with the
southern Confederate States striving
for independence), but its manifestation in the 1960s would have been
less compelling than its resurgence
nowadays. The continuing pressures
of American imperial policy, its many
overseas wars, its mounting national
debt, the persistent complaint about
the formation of a surveillance state
culminating in the much hated antigun laws, have provoked an avalanche of protest from various quarters – though chiefly from the south
– and also the s-word was spoken
to counter federal tyranny. Literary
historians are usually very conscious
of the fact that texts can mean new
things in new contexts, but Kelly’s
episode on secession (see
sample image ) addresses a fundamental issue and vents a
universal warning that is as true today as it was in the past.
The strip seems admirably adjusted to present-day tensions;
its insight that war is a natural consequence of the struggle
for independence achieves particular momentum in light of
plans for a peaceful yet armed march on Washington DC on
the 4th of July this year.
Reading Pogo is always a delight, especially when
Kelly’s imagination stays ahead of the news.
J. R. Veenstra
The Understudies present:
The War Outside
London, 1939. As the European mainland is thrown into chaos through
disease and social uprising, England seems to standing strong. This
changes when a bomb goes off in
central London. The Evans family
hide in their cellar, accompanied by
their elderly neighbours, and daughter
Lucy’s secret lover, Henry. Tensions
rise as they’re stuck in the cellar for
days on end, and things only get
worse when the family’s long-lost father shows up.
The War Outside. Wednesday, 26 June
20:30; de Lindenberg. Tickets €5 www.delindenberg.com
If anyone ever understood that yelling at
Asian chicks’ bums and riding ponies are the
epitomic acts of #Swagerrific, it is Park JaeSung, otherwise known to the world as PSY.
How did this knight of style and substance
ever come to rise as he has? Let’s find out!
It was the year 1977 when the artist formerly
known as Kim Jong-Deux was born to the extravagant and enigmatic great leader Kim Jong-Il, Lord
of Korea, Warden of the North and Protector of the
Realm. Jong-Deux was taught in the Korean martial art of marching by his father: swinging legs up
to one’s face with every step. A hard path to walk,
indeed. Soon he discovered that the North Korean
march simply didn’t have enough #Swagtacle to it,
so he started developing his own style. His father
was enraged, and banished his son to the believed
to be rotten and degenerate South of Korea. Little
did Kim Jong-Il know that his first-born son would
become a force to be reckoned with.
Skip ahead to 15 July 2012, and Kim JongDeux has grown to become international superstar
PSY, after he was taken in by the Park family at
age six and re-named Park Jae-Sung and went to
the Berklee College of Music to strengthen his dance
march with some much needed #swag. The result is
the song known as “Oppan Gangnam Style”, literally meaning “Big Brother is Gangnam Style”, emphasizing Deux’ superiority over his little brother Un
to his father Kim Jong-Il. Upon realizing his mistake,
the great leader Kim fell ill to the incredible amount
of #swagga radiation that suddenly covered the entire globe, as every household with a PC, tablet, TV,
radio or smartphone was watching and listening to
Gangnam Style. The radiation proved to be fatal for
the Warden of the North Korea.
The radiation was the byproduct of the extra
#swag-infusion he learned in Berklee. There, he perfected his self-taught “Zodiac Flaming and Swaggering Pony” marching style that we all know and love.
The #swagga rays found amplification through the
internet and the satellites in the Earth’s orbit, and
soon everyone knew about Gangnam Style. It has
since been the only Youtube video to surpass the 1
billion views, an astounding feat in and of itself.
PSY, Park Jae-Sung, Kim Jong-Deux... Many
names for a man of many talents. His conquest of
the world has progressed by a bit with his new
hit Gentleman, in which his “Zodiac Pelvis Wiggle
Dragon” technique captivates the minds of youths
worldwide. Will he ever achieve another triumph like
Gangnam Style? Who knows... What we do know, is
that he is still going strong, and one day he may
retake his place as the rightful heir to the Northern
throne of Korea.
Tim Renes
‘Twas brillig, and SWAGula chortled as he saw the
mother leaving the house to get Chinese takeaway;
the 14-year old son, Horatio, blasting 50 Cent; the
18-year old brother trying to talk some sense in his
little brother, but he soon saw it was of no use, and
left the house to go out for a stroll. Huge mistake.
SWAGula jumped from the roof of the house
across the street, where he had been observing the
family. He landed safely without any noise, until he
heard a loud crash just behind him. He dropped to
the ground, hoping he was still unnoticed. Through
the shrubbery SWAGula saw that the boy had
resumed walking, apparently ignoring the sound.
SWAGula turned around to see what it was, then
facepalmed himself.
“Dropped the bloody bass AGAIN,” he cursed
He ran to catch up with his victim.
“Hey, dude! What d’you say to some cheap
“You sell cheap weed?” asked the guy.
“No, no friend. You’ve got it all wrong. I’m not
selling cheap weed. I’m selling good weed for cheap.
I just need someone to deliver it for me,” SWAGula
told him.
“Alright, where do I need to go?”
“Come by the Manor House Club tonight.
Ask for Brad Quid. And remember, keep this to
yourself,” SWAGula said, disappearing into the city.
He made preparations for that night, and kept an
eye out in the club. The club was, as usual, filled
with preps, bragging about their new car or crying how AbErCrOmBiE & FiTcH hadn’t accepted their
parents’ credit card. Almost every other day some
snob organised a pretentious party at the club,
celebrating their phony lives. Now SWAGula blended
in with them perfectly, since the media was him. He
was in every image, but people didn’t know, because as soon as they looked away, they forgot.
Finally the guy showed up, and was immediately sneered at by the beautiful people. The
bartender pointed to where SWAGula was sitting,
and bingo!
“Now, where is it and where do I need to take
it?” the guy said as he approached.
“Come to the basement. Take it to the underground. I have people there.”
“And how am I supposed to recognise them?
They wearing sweater vests like these people around
You obviously lack originality. No. They have
a tennis racket with them.”
“Right, okay. Is it dangerous?”
“YOLO,” SWAGula replied.
“Fine. Will I get a share?”
SWAGula coughed. “I swag your pardon. Of
course, you’ll get ‘the best time of your life’.”
They went into the basement, which appeared to be
a storeroom for pallets of money bundles, drug packages, and…
“What’s this?” the guy asked, picking up a sex
“You’re quite oblivious, eh? What was your
name again?”
SWAGula handed him a package, stood right
in front of him.
“Now… Let’s dance… Kiss.”
“Wait, what?” Yorick exclaimed.
“Surprised? I said, you’ll get the best time of
your life.”
Yorick screamed, but no-one heard. His appearance changed, an obnoxious stare gleaming out
of his eyes.
“Now… Open your package,” SWAGula instructed.
Like a puppet Yorick opened the package, revealing a pair of Ralph Lauren shoes, a Lacoste polo
shirt, and other articles necessary for the true snob.
“He prepped you for this, you know,” SWAGula
“I would like to attend the party,” Yorick said
without emotion.
“Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio.”
The little brother smiled. “He has borne me on
his back a thousand times – and never got off mine.”
SWAGula merely nodded, smiled with him.
Then, to Horatio:
“What d’you say to some cheap weed?”
Patrick Hobbelen
9/11’s tabooed
All of us are familiar with the photographs of
heroism and patriotism that came to dominate
the media representations of 9/11 shortly after
the attacks. Amid the surge of flag-waving and
the celebration of fire fighters, however, certain
images suffered immediate censorship. Such
was the fate of the so-called ‘jumper-photos’ –
photographs of people jumping to their deaths
from the upper reaches of the World Trade
Center. One of these images is particularly
hard to forget. Taken by AP photographer
Richard Drew, it depicts a man falling headfirst in a perfectly vertical position, his body
aligned with the girders of the buildings behind him, as though he were in full control of
his descent. Later dubbed the ‘Falling Man’,
the photograph ran in a number of newspapers the day after the tragedy but it did not
take long before the editors of these papers
found themselves in the crossfire of complaints
made by their readers. Drew’s photograph,
along with the rest of the jumper photos, was
relegated to user-generated Internet sites,
never to be published in print.
What is it, really, about the ‘Falling Man’
that holds our attention so irresistibly? Our recognition of a ‘still life’ that portends irreversible death?
Or the illicit pleasure of recognizing aesthetic qualities in an instance of horror? Or maybe our recognition of the image as a foreboding reminder that we
only live once? Perhaps all of these. But inscribed
within the man’s acrobatic posture and the perfect
alignment of body with building is also the element
of agency, which posits death as the result of a voluntary act, investing the man’s fall with the phantasmagoric image of his jump, which remains unseen in the photograph. We are therefore compelled
to imagine his ‘sacrilegious’ decision that renders
his fall a result of a voluntary act: suicide. As much
as this reading is highly problematic within the context of 9/11, the word ‘jumper’ is pregnant with this
meaning (Eric Steel’s 2006 documentary The Bridge,
a film which portrays the Golden Gate Bridge as the
nation’s notorious suicide destination, comes to mind
here). If the word ‘fall’ euphemistically blurs the leap
that precipitates it and ‘jump’ connotes suicide, the
‘Falling Man’ engenders a crisis of signification, a
painful lack of a better word, so to say.
If the image of the ‘Falling Man’, along with
the other ‘jumper-photos’, creates a blind spot within
the trauma of 9/11, it is no surprise that it persists
as a specter that refuses to be wrapped up in
heroic narratives. A recurring motif in 9/11 art (both
visual and textual) and one of the central tropes in
the growing genre of the 9/11 novel the repressed
memory of the ‘jumpers’ beget alternative techniques
of narrating trauma as evidenced by Frédéric Beigbeder’s Windows on the World (2004), Art Spiegelman’s graphic novel In the Shadow of No Towers
(2004), Jonathan Safran Foer’s Extremely Loud and
Incredibly Close (2005), Michael Cunningham’s Specimen Days (2005), Ken Kalfus’s A Disorder Peculiar
to the Country (2006), and Don DeLillo’s Falling Man
While each of these authors wrestles with
the task of bearing witness to the unspeakable,
the ‘Falling Man’ continues to haunt works that
make no explicit reference to 9/11 at all. In James
Marsh’s documentary Man on Wire (2008), which
tells the story of French tightrope walker Philippe
Petit who walked between the Twin Towers in 1974, it
is precisely the film’s silence about 9/11 that allows
the iconography of the ‘Falling Man’ to uncannily
emerge in the film’s rendering of Petit’s performance.
Even more conspicuously, the opening sequence
of the acclaimed television series Mad Men, and
the ‘minimalist’ poster of the show’s fifth season in
particular, has raised many eyebrows for its iconographic similarity to the jumper photos.
Out of sight but definitely not out of mind,
the ‘Falling Man’ thus embodies the paradoxical
dialectics of repression and appropriation, an image
we may all recognize as 9/11’s tabooed icon.
László Munteán
Join the travel committee, they said! It will be fun,
they said! Well, they were definitely right, but they
failed to inform me it would be damn stressful as
well. For about eight months me and my fellow
ReisCo-ers (as we began to call ourselves) spent
day and night slaving away at making the studytrip to Dublin an unforgettable experience. And I
would like to think we succeeded. And if you don’t
believe me, I think the pictures speak for themselves. :D
Our trip started on a Saturday morning in Nijmegen where thirty-five eager students excitingly
awaited the bus to bring us to Schiphol. The bus
driver quickly picked up on our excitement and
decided to turn up the volume of the radio extensively, resulting in an overwhelming chorus of,
amongst others, One Direction and Taylor Swift
(Goat sounds included). After admiring the technological marvels of Schiphol (automated baggage check-in FTW), and spending a few hours in
its overpriced stores we were finally underway to
Dublin. After this long day we were excited to find
one of the most bad-ass hostels in the world (pleasing us with vending machines, free Wifi, and Game
of Thrones actors) at our disposal and everyone
quickly began to claim their beds and prepare to
spend their first night exploring the city.
Sunday saw creation of many #Swagtastic pictures as the ReisCo had devised a genius
scheme of creating a city walk/scavenger hunt
in order to let people make fools of themselves.
Many pictures and plenty of sore feet later (note
to future Reisco: Google Maps is a bloody liar. Do
not believe their walking time estimation!) we had
a chance to drink our pains away at the Jameson
Distillery and during the Literary Pubcrawl, which
once agai n featured Game of Thrones actors.
Monday was highlighted by horny animals
at the zoo, beautiful grand libraries at Trinity College and an evening of drinks and games during
the Queen’s Night, a party which continued in
many rooms until late in the night.
The free day on Tuesday allowed everyone to wear their feet down some more as we
strolled around Dublin’s rich shopping streets and
its amazing bookstores (Oh, Chapters, you light
up my world like nobody else!), as well as enjoy a
cultural night at the theater.
Wednesday was spent primarily outside
of Dublin as we took the train to the picturesque
coastal village of Malahide, sporting a castle, and
expansive gardens. Thursday was of more educational value, as we were given a workshop by
the James Joyce Centre about Araby and could
stroll around its museum, where they have amongst
other things, a very special door! Seriously, it’s
like a very big deal for James Joyce fans apparently.
If our bodies were not drained of their energy by this point, Friday’s sporty activities made
sure they were. On this day we experienced the
Gaelic Games and played two of their biggest
sports; hurling and Gaelic football. A visit to Croke
Park Stadium was also on the agenda and it delivered us the greatest tour guide in existence. As
this night was our last night in Dublin, we of course
had to hit the city – despite our exhaustion and the
fact that most people could barely walk any more
(and no, this was not only caused by alcohol).
However, every journey has its end and so
too did ours. On Saturday we packed our bags,
gathered our souvenirs, and prepared ourselves
for the trip back home. Although the rest of the
ReisCo and I were absolutely exhausted, it was
extremely awesome and a memorable experience.
I strongly advise anyone thinking about it to join
up for the ReisCo next year. After all, you have
nothing to lose. I mean #YOLO, right!
Dries de Groot
Cool or
Life-writing is hip, biography is booming. The
conception of New Biography by modernists
such as Virginia Woolf gave life-writing a second wind - it became a twentieth-century phenomenon. It was to last, it seems; these days
biography, auto-biography, auto/biography,
metabiography, biofiction, biofilm, autobiografiction (et cetera ad nauseam!) is quite the thing.
The author is dead? I think not. Even if you’re
not one for reading, who can resist a nice, juicy
tear jerking film starting with the headline
‘based on a true story’? It is undeniable that we
seem to like other people’s lives - and with social media right under our thumbs almost 24/7,
we are life-writing on the go.
Perhaps we are not so far removed from the
Victorians as we think we are. Modernists criticised
the Victorian way of life-writing for its tendency to
focus on the outer, public life and the achievements of
great people (mostly men). It cannot be denied, though,
that many of the contemporary social media that can
be used for life-writing seem very much focused on
the outward and public achievement: photos, videos
- all very visual material that captures outer rather
than inner life.
On the other hand, however, the anonymity of
the internet allows for a great openness. There are
many websites that allow an alias and where exposing deeply-felt anxieties is encouraged and even
welcomed. Tumblr seems to have partly taken on a
function as a safety net for people who need emotional support; strangers listening to strangers. Sayings
such as “my Tumblr account is my best-kept secret”
indicate a sort of liberation, a finally being able to
express inner thoughts and feelings openly within a
community that allows for such openness. (Which is,
of course, not to say that everything is readily accepted - love and hate seem to go around equally.)
Is it not all a little vast, though? How should
we implement these new media into life-writing? How
to preserve data from getting lost in a virtual environment where deletion is only a click away? In fact:
is this data even useful? In his book You Are Not A
Gadget: A Manifesto Jaron Lanier points out that a
human being cannot be made up by a set of data:
we ‘reduce’ ourselves. In her essay “Generation Why”
Zadie Smith explains that this “life is turned into a
database, and this is a degradation” (Smith 9, emphasis mine). Is it, though? How is the way we ‘compress’
ourselves to adhere to a social network any different from other life-writing mediums and templates
(novel, film, memoir, diary)? Compression and reduction is the only way to life-write, as it is impossible
to encapsule a life in its entirety: a specific angle
or theme or form is needed or it simply becomes too
vast and overwhelming to process. Human lives are
constantly reduced depending on the situation. We
often do it instinctively as the situation changes. We
portray ourselves differently, we filter our behaviour
and looks, depending on the situation - we are not
the same around our family as we are around friends
or strangers.
Maybe an even more pressing question is
that of privacy. On the morning of 16 May I saw the
presentation of Google Glass on BBC Breakfast. Perhaps it’s a good thing that the product is not ready
for the market yet, not for consumers anyway, because it’s raised some important questions. At least
with smartphones you can see someone point the
camera at you - with Google Glass there is really no
telling. When asking a few people on the street about
what they thought about Google Glass, Rory CellanJones from BBC News got reactions stating that the
new gadget was ‘creepy’ rather than ‘cool’, though
that may also have something to do with the voice
activation. I suppose seemingly talking to yourself is
not something we like to show off. We’ll just have to
wait for the legal and social implications before life
recording is upped to yet another level.
Bianca van der Mark
Paramore’s fourth studio album, sporting the inspirational title Paramore, proves every bit as inventive
as its title. With Josh and Zac Farro (lead guitar and
drums) departing in 2010, the band has turned over
a new leaf in terms of style. This means that their
songs lack the drive the old ones had, and most
manage to be about twice as long as they should
be. The simple fact that the seventeen-song album
has no less than three interludes is an indication
that too many of the songs on end would leave a
listener looking for their entertainment elsewhere.
Not all is bad about this album. The imagery
is still there – although not as poignant as it used
to be – but some of the lyrics just seem out of place.
“We’ve got our riot gear on but we just want to have
fun / No we’re not looking for violence”, from the
first song “Fast in My Car”, doesn’t fit with the song,
or the band.
The time of exams is nearly upon us: the perfect
time for a nervous breakdown to disrupt your flow.
Once you start doubting your ability to finish an
essay, why not doubt everything? Your relationship,
your significant other’s feelings for you - there are
plenty of areas where you can excel in despair. To
‘alleviate’ our anxieties, Fleur van Groningen wrote
Haal het Slechtste uit Jezelf. I know: I’m cheating because it’s a Dutch book, but you will have to forgive
me. (I’m not giving you a choice.)
Imagine: exams make you suffer from an
acute case of perfectionism coupled with a crippling
fear of failure. There are only so many times someone can tell you to ‘please accept that human life
can never be a spotless accumulation of successes’
before you violently want to bash their brains in.
Fleur van Groningen suggests another route: ‘show-
Some of their innovations definitely paid off
though, such as the gospel choir on “Ain’t It Fun”,
but a lot of their new sound comes off as unimaginative (although five songs, starting with “Last
Hope” and ending with “Proof” are quite nice). And
to add insult to injury, the song “Part II” is a reworking of older lyrics from different songs, all
mashed together. I imagine it might evoke the same
sort of feelings Reanimation did in Linkin Park fans.
It seems strange, then, that this is their most
critically acclaimed album, lauded for its musical
diversity (and I’ll admit, I like the ukulele bits), when
only about a third of the album comes close to being interesting, and the rest of the songs are overly
long and boring.
Marnix de Gier
er yourself in a torrent of self-conscious criticism (either for prior or imagined future mistakes), feed your
fear by repeating phrases like I can’t do it! as often
as possible. Stop taking initiative and watch as your
life stagnates, grinding to a painful halt.’ The funny
thing is, the more you read these destimulating tips
to worsen and ruin your life, the more you’ll realise
the only person who’s stopping you.. is you! “Blimey!” you’ll say, “I was afraid to miss my deadline,
but I guess I’m being a bit ridiculous.” The result?
Shake your head at yourself and finally start on
that essay.
Fleur van Groningen’s self-help booklet
treats a plethora of subjects and is both hilariously
phrased and very aptly illustrated. If you feel your
suffer from fear (general), fear of commitment, loneliness, fear of failure, the Florence Nightingale Syndrome, frustration, intolerance, jealousy, vulnerability,
lovesickness, powerlessness, obsession, unrequited
love, dissatisfaction, insecurity, the Peter Pan syndrome, projection, resentment, regret, sadness, paranoia, or anger, you should really consider picking
yourself up a copy!
Bianca van der Mark
Minor Nieuwe Media
en Digitale Cultuur
When I saw that there was a new minor about
social media, I was immediately very enthusiastic. The minor guide told me that I would be
taking Philosophy and Ethics of New Media,
Social Media in Functional Context, and something called ‘Kunst, Technologie en Lichamelijkheid’.
Although I was looking forward to it least, Philosophy became my favourite subject. The course was
given by Dr Becker from the Philosophy faculty, and
although we had four hours of class every Tuesday,
it was finished after eight weeks. I liked the course
very much because it used old theories to evaluate
new phenomena. For example, we used Aristotle’s
friendship theory to discuss online friendship, and we
looked at three different philosophers to talk about
privacy issues. Also, we discussed open source, authorship and politics. I found it very interesting to look
at these subjects from different kinds of philosophical
and ethical views. We had an exam, had to write a
research paper, and had to do a presentation either
on research we had to study, or on our paper.
I had very high hopes for Social Media in
Functional Context, but the course turned out to be
completely different from what I had expected. Half
the class was filled with Erasmus students, so our
CIW teacher, Loes Janssen, was forced to teach the
course in English. Also, the teacher told us that she
did not even know how Twitter works, and that the
classes were going to be led by the students. Every
week we had to read two research papers, and a
group of four to six students presented these studies,
and led a discussion. The lessons, and the exams,
are focused on the results of research, so instead of
learning theories and getting information about how
to use social media in personal and professional
context, we have to study whether the research was
representative and what the limitations were. This is
definitely not what I wanted to learn. In addition to
two exams and leading a discussion, we had to write
a research proposal and present this. I was lucky to
be in a group with a CIW student because she knew
how to write a research proposal and no one else did.
Now on to my final course: Kunst, Technlologie
en Lichamelijkheid. After eight lessons and four failed
bi-weekly assignments I still had not figured out what
the course was aiming at, or what I was supposed
to do, and I decided to drop it. KT&L was given by
two very nice and enthusiastic ACW teachers, Mr.
Stevens and Mr. Meelberg, but there was no structure
and the book we had to read was full of theories that
I was unable to understand. The ACW and Art History students in my class definitely liked the subject,
but I prefer 19th-Century British Novel on Film.
In my opinion the idea of a minor with subjects from three different fields of study is a very good
idea, but this was definitely not a minor about social
media as I had expected it to be.
- Anouska Kersten
A He
Some of you may know I suck at gaming. If
it is not a board game, I generally fail at it.
(If I ever talked to you about console games,
you probably know the story of how I fell off
the sofa while playing MarioKart on the Wii.)
I suppose I’m a backseat gamer. I like sitting
on the couch next to my fiancé as he plays
Borderlands, Skyrim, FallOut, Assassin’s Creed,
DragonAge, and other such epicness. Just because I cannot work the controls doesn’t mean
I don’t enjoy games.
Even though I knew I’d never play it myself,
I was as excited about BioShock Infinite as anyone
else seemed to be. I adored the previous BioShock
games. I love its gruesome details and the back
stories, its Alternate Universe underwater city where
hubris has wrecked society. BioShock Infinite has not
disappointed me in the slightest: sitting next to my
fiancé as the game unfolded was like watching a
good film (possibly based on a well-written novel).
The visuals were awesome (and the loading time in
between wasn’t annoyingly long!) and while Menno
gathered trophies, the plot points that unfolded made
my literature-fetish self squee. As Jared Newman
wrote on Time Tech: “It has a reputation for being that
kind of game – the one you approach intellectually,
despite its grisly facade of smashed skulls, burnt
bodies and cartoonish gore. […] BioShock Infinite wants
you to have your mindless fun, but it also wants you
to ponder.”
ero in Search
Contrary to the parts set in the submerged
city of Rapture, you don’t enter a post-apocalyptic
society. When you arrive in Columbia, which steampunkishly floats in the sky, it seems a pretty okay
place to be, if a bit overzealously religious. The beauty is that you then get to see it all falling apart (which
feels surprisingly satisfying) as you initially set out to
rescue the helpless lady in the tower: Elizabeth. She
is not as helpless as she seems, however, and I must
say the way she interacts with your character is very
cleverly done. Rather than being a bunch of pixels
that follows you around and stands in the way 60%
of the time, she’s nothing like that. Instead, she interacts with you, finds you supplies and ammo. Granted:
she’s probably programmed to give you stuff you
need every once in a while, she’s not actually picking
things up that you might have missed otherwise - but
hey, this whole thing is based on imagination and
your willingness to believe in the story!
Even though Columbia is different from Rapture, it’s still very much tied to the previous two
BioShock games, for instance by the mode of combat. This is again a combination between hacking
or shooting at your enemies and using cool genetically modified superpowers. Perhaps it is a bit brutal, perhaps you think the gore is excessive - only
violence isn’t the game’s prime objective. The themes
and issues, the narrative highlights (within the safe
framework if an Alternate Universe, of course!) are
like a mingled kaleidoscope of US history and politics:
slavery, civil war, class, post-colonialism, the American Dream, gender roles - it’s all there if you want to
see it. Even if you’re not the type to go all literaryessay-mode on a console game, you’ll have to agree
that the back story balances out the brutality (like in
the earlier BioShock parts, the place is conveniently
littered with vex-recorders for you to pick up). As
straightforward as the initial ‘rescue the damsel’ story
seems, trust me that the plot will go batshit crazy from
there, not shying away from a MultiVerse narrative. It
will make you go ‘wowwhat?!’ every time. By the end
of the game, I was actually punching the air (I won’t
spoil you guys!). Had BioShock Infinite been a book,
it would have been a page turner (and worthy of essays being written about it).
Of course it’s all very much a matter of personal preference and BioShock Infinite does have its
downsides. You’ll have to spend a lot of time gathering resources off corpses and abandoned crates, for
instance, and the further you get on in the game, the
less your choices will alter the possible storyline. Still,
Menno told me the controls are smooth and easy to
work. I suppose I’ll have to trust him on that.
Bianca van der Mark
The Take
Over, The
Save Rock and Roll
by Fall Out Boy. Out now.
Fall Out Boy are back from hiatus! You might remember them from songs like “Thnks Fr Th
Mmrs”, or “Dance, Dance”, you might have forgotten them, or you might have never known them.
I don’t know in which of these categories you fall, but let me tell you one thing – their new CD,
Save Rock and Roll, is definitely the best album they could have made for their comeback.
I am here to give you a review of FOB’s new CD, and I won’t keep you in suspense any longer – it
rules. The first single, “My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark (Light ‘Em Up)”, already made me ache
for more. It sounded very different from Infinity on High and Folie A Deux, mostly because it didn’t have
the poppy undertones those two CDs had, but an aggressive tone with a chorus that sticks in your head.
Some other songs of the album have the same feel – “The Phoenix”, “The Mighty Fall”, and “Rat a Tat”, for
instance – yet there is a set of songs that have a different feel. “Miss Missing You”, “Just One Yesterday”
and “Young Volcanoes” are slower, a little romantic, even though the lyrics might not always agree with that
Fall Out Boy has collaborated with other artists before (for instance, listen to “What a Catch, Donnie”
for a quick introduction to both the fandom surrounding FOB and a lot of guest singers: hi, Gabe Saporta,
Brendon Urie, William Beckett, and others!). On this CD, they take it to the next level by collaborating with
Foxes, Big Sean, Courtney Love and Elton John – and it works. All the guests add something to the FOB
sound and make it awesome.
Naturally, there are some things I could have done without on the album. “Alone Together” and
“Death Valley” use the auto tune a bit too much to my liking. Patrick’s voice does not need that much
tweaking, and I’m still confused as to why they thought it was a good idea. The title song, “Save Rock and
Roll” ft. Elton John, is the one track I always skip because it’s not my taste, although it does have good
As a final note, I would advise all of you to watch their music videos – unless you’re really
squeamish. FOB are going to make a video for all of their new songs, following the adventures of the
Young Bloods (Who now?), and the three that are up so far are amazing. There is torture, drugs, kidnapping
and heavily implied cannibalism, though, so like I said – these videos not for the faint-hearted.
In summary, did FOB save rock and roll? No. Of course not. But did they deliver a good album? That they
did. If you’re hesitant about FOB, give it a shot. They won’t disappoint.
Irene Theunissen
Pony up and feel the friendship
There have been few shows that have
amassed the amount of popularity, infamy and
outright #SWAG like My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. The international rising of the
“Bronies” (bros who like ponies) has sparked
a polarizing public opinion on the matter. On
one side are the aforementioned Bronies, on
the other the ones that shun them for watching a cartoon aimed at little girls. But all that
aside, is the show itself any good?
The story is as follows: Twilight Sparkle is
a pony with a gift for magic and does research on
it in the castle of Canterlot (ba-dum-tish) for her
monarch, Princess Celestia. One day, she is tasked
to look up information on the possible resurrection
of the evil pony Nightmare Moon (Get it? ‘Cuz she’s
a MARE. *cough*) in a town called Ponyville, where
she meets six ponies that will aid her in her quest
and will prove to be her best friends from that point
onward. Their developing friendship appears to be
strong and magical enough to take down the evil
Nightmare Moon. Celestia tasks Twilight to keep
researching this magic of friendship, telling her
to write a report on it every week. This narrative
device effectively creates a medium through which
every episode’s moral can be explicitly explained.
Morals can vary from “It’s possible for two vastly
different people to be friends” to “You can’t please
everyone, so you have to make choices”. The content is very episodic: most episodes stand on their
own as narratives and are completely watchable
as stand-alone works, making it easy to drop in
on any episode. Though episodic, episodes do often
have some bearing on the later ones, as characters
learn from their mistakes and form new bonds. As
such, the overarching story of making and forging
friendships is constantly going forward, without going back to square one every weekly episode.
Technically, the show is a sight to behold.
The animation is Flash-based, making it smooth
and dynamic. The palette is vibrant, and the sheer
amount of sugary sweet cotton candy colours will
have your teeth simply rot away. The voice actors
all do great jobs at giving the characters their own
unique persona. From introvert to extravert, oblivious to all-knowing, all characters have their special
traits: Twilight is the well-meant bookworm out of
touch with the real world, Applejack is a warmhearted redneck, Rainbow Dash is a competitive
tomboy, Fluttershy is the shy animal-loving hippy
and Rarity is an eloquent, though vain fashion designer. The anomaly of the show, however, is Pinkie
Pie. She is childish and likes to party, but that is
not the full extent of her character. She is generally
the vehicle for the more absurd humor present in
the show, making this series an entertaining watch
for all ages. Firstly, the fourth wall is her bottombitch, as breaking it so often will most likely just
wear it out. Secondly, aside from her self-consciousness as a cartoon character, she can BREAK BOTH
TIME AND SPACE, illustrated by the way Pinkie Pie
uses her hooves to count in the following picture
below, which is not photoshopped, I might add.. Spot
Tertium Comparationis
Am I presently perfect or progressive?
The apostrophe to your possessive?
The locative case or even the cause?
Dependent or independent clause?
Please have you found my pronoun yet
(My antecedent is quite upset)?
And it is such a misery
To pick the right auxiliary!
What mood is my verb in today?
(The subjunctive choice is so risqué.)
But interjections (bloody hell!)
Those never really ended well..
I can’t go on like this much longer Comparing ‘wrong’ just makes it ‘wronger’.
Bianca van der Mark
The CWW Rhyme
From: The Audience Participation Session.
All in all, this fourth generation of My Little Pony is
by far the most gender neutral of the bunch. That
might not be saying much, but it is an interesting
phenomenon to see that men like the show as much
as girls do. Captivating storytelling, good humor
and quality animation defies gender and age, as is
visible in the diverse audience the show has been
able to garner. It may easily be counted among the
present-day greats of TV animation like Adventure
Time, Regular Show and Avatar: The Legend of Korra as an example of entertainment for all ages.
Tim Renes
The bus was late, so I got here on the double
I came in and you knew I was _____.
Come on fellows, join in with me
write and read, have a cup o’ ____.
At Creative Writing we make pros outta rookies,
I just hope your mouth’s not stuffed with ____.
Wrong! I thought you were all wizzkids,
those are not cookies, you should call them ____.
If you’re not winning, there is no shame,
for those out of cooldown, you just lost the ____.
Berry Giezen
When in doubt, spend more time
in the gym. It’s always the right thing
to do. #GrowSomeMuscles
Nobody does real tanning anymore. You gotta look good before you
go to the beach. #GetOrange
That dude don’t want it, unless it
got a permanent duckface. #CosmeticSurgergy #YOLO
Those clothes are definitely not
revealing enough. #GetClassyGetLaid
You ain’t been partying hard
enough, Broseph. Time to #GetCrunk
That STD collection you been working on ain’t been expanding lately. Lower your standards. #CuzUrWorthIt
That hot piece of ass you saw at
the Laundromat? She’s only interested
if you wear even more cologne. #Pheromones
If you think you can do better,
don’t dump ‘em. Just have some extra on
the side. #WinWIn
Your BFF was definitely eyeing
what was yours. Time to start a fight.
If the flow ain’t popping, go to a
different club. Life’s too short to not be
fistpumping. #AintNobodyGotTimeFoDat
Fake tans and sea water don’t mix.
Stay on the beach. #KnowYourLimits
You can do anything you set your
mind to, but if it don’t get you laid, why
bother, right? #IDidItAllForTheNookie
Can you
guess the
name of this
(Answer: The Game)