It all starts with the right shows
I am excited for fall TV, which probably means I actively hate books, so much so that during commercial breaks, I run out of the room to burn down libraries.
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I am excited for fall TV, which probably means I actively hate books, so much so that during commercial breaks, I run out of the room to burn down libraries.
*On-campus center offers variety of little-known films * Chris Quintana
Student Jeffrey Hertz’s art is born from his travels around the world. His work, located at Yoberri on Harvard Drive, features photos that one might expect to see in National Geographic. There’s an old Indian man jumping naked into a river, another of Tibet at Sunset and less exotic ones of a flaming long board in front of the Humanities building. Hertz said his photos serve as a sort of silent conversation between him and his audience members. The topic? Whatever happens to be on their mind.
I hate green chile. Something about the feisty little plant just doesn’t connect with my taste buds, but more than I hate green chile, I hate the cult of exclusivity that goes along with the fiery diet staple.
Darnell Daniels, Mass Communications, Sophomore
Bryan Jurus is taking the helm of Student Special Events and ushering in some changes while modifying some old favorites. See what the man behind some of UNM’s trendiest and happening events has to say about the upcoming year and his future plans for Student Special Events. Daily Lobo: First off, congratulations on your new position as the director of Student Special Events. It must be exciting. But what’s different? What do you have planned for the year?
Outside Agora’s booth during the UNM Welcome Back Days, a man, Jim Browning, is talking about to a volunteer about how his mother is in a hospice. He talks about the death of his brother and his stepfather, but that’s not his biggest concern. “Everybody in the family has turned to me for help, literally,” he said. “I haven’t had anyone to really turn to for help.” The volunteer listens even though she was only passing out fliers earlier. He talks for a 10 or 15 minutes and walks away, and as he does the volunteer smiles for a second. Allie Weber said that’s the feeling that comes most often when working at Agora.
A new year is beginning, which means that new complaints will be bubbling forth from every single person on campus, like the stench of yogurt left in dorm rooms. The question, though, is what to complain about. Being something of a professional complainer, allow me to guide your whining:
As school gets ready to resume, Lobo readers are changing habitats faster than hermit crabs. And as we all know, with new habitats come new habitat-buddies, or “roommates,” if you will. Many people find lifelong friends and confidants in their new roommates. More often, though, they find seemingly normal people who turn out to be certifiably insane. Which is why the Daily Lobo Culture section is bringing you a guide to terrible roommates, each with a bite-sized lesson on how to avoid these awful, awful situations. Names have been changed to protect street preachers, public urinators, country-music fans and the occasional innocent, but all the content is real.
Sam Irons is Albuquerque’s foul-mouthed acoustic act. His song titles include, “I Want to Hate F**k Your C**t,” “In Case You Die (I Hope You Get Pinkeye)” and the “F**k You Song,” all of which polarize the audience in any venue instantly he said. Still, Irons said he has a following of people who aren’t close friends who come to see his shows. Check out his performance at “Noon Time” on Aug. 24 at Cornell Plaza.
There wasn’t a second of Clash Couture that I didn’t enjoy. The music was great, loud, and dance inducing. The designers, hair stylists and make-up artists were all on their A-game producing gorgeous effects and styles in the time it takes some people to walk from class to class. And the models, well let’s just say any straight guy who writes off fashion shows as gay may want to reconsider his assessment. Never in my life have I seen so many svelte, chic and plain drop dead gorgeous women under one roof.
UNM announced a ban on gum today to coincide with the state’s increased tax on gum packs.
Hunter Beaton, Law Student
Albuquerque fashion acolytes: Prepare for a culture clash that has yet to be seen.
Daily Lobo: So what brings you to UNM today?
DanielDanny Crouch, English/Philosophy, Senior
When a starfish loses a limb, it regenerates the missing appendage.
Daily Lobo: So what you brought you to UNM today?
Last week, I attended my first punk show and let my opinions be know here (XXX) but the best part of the experience got left out. My dance of death in the mosh pit. Well that’s a bit an overstatement, but I did catch an elbow in the face, which was pretty cool, but more on that later. I had gone to see GBH with Outernational and the Unemploid. It was an odd mix. The Unemploid are some sort of local punk band with the most mismatched group of performers I have seen in a little while. Outernational played a rock and roll set that clashed oddly with GBH’s 70s punk sound, but whatever. I am not the one to tell bands who to tour with. All in all, it’s was a bit sparse. I could stand pretty much anywhere and had about two inches of space with no one touching me, a lot of room for the Launchpad. That said, it filled pretty quick when GBH took the stage, and then the moshing begun. The punk kids started to circle around one another. I wasn’t sure what to expect. I’ve seen mosh pits on the television, and everyone left bloody in those, so I wasn’t ready to take the plunge quite yet. It stayed slow though. About 10 or 15 people dropped into the pit, and then the pushing started. It’s kind of impossible to describe accurately. I mean, yeah, I could say it was a guy pushing a guy who then would push another and another from there and so on and so on, but that wouldn’t do it any justice. Everyone becomes blur after a while from the outside. One person shoves another constantly, and it happens so quickly it seems as though pushing in the pit is as necessary as breathing. Usually it only lasted for the first half of the song, and then everyone got tired and retreated to the edges of the pit. It was after one of these breaks I decided to enter. I think I set myself to get knocked around. I wore a nice white button shirt to the show for reasons still unknown to me, and I stood out amid the black and tattered clothing of the punk forces to be. In the circle, I did what I could do. I shoved and shoved and shoved and occasionally got shoved. It’s completely different to be in the pit than out. Inside, everyone looks even more alike. Tall and short, fat and skinny, all those distinctions seem to disappear and the ones that emerge are only who can push harder or softer. I wasn’t sure if I was pushing hard, but I do know that I got pushed hard. Several times I got knocked across the pit into someone else only to be pushed back and then pushed back and on and on. I did manage to shove someone across the pit, but mostly I was struggling to keep balance. When I wasn’t getting shoved by people in the pit, people around the pit pushed me back in. Actually, getting out of the pit was near impossible with people striving to keep me out, but that’s all part of it, I guess. Like I said earlier, it dies quick, so I could get out when I was too tired to go on, which happened quick. In five minutes I had wholly soaked my shirt, jeans, and everything else I was wearing. I wasn’t the only one, though. The entire room and everyone I bumped into was sopping wet with sweat. I was told later by one of my friends that I reeked, but I never noticed it. It had become all pervading such that I couldn’t recognize any other smell. I had vowed to keep dropping in and out of the pit till I ate the concrete. The thing is that if you fall, you might get trampled a bit, but the crowd always stops as quick as possible to lift the fallen. I wanted to get a taste of that, and some very large men had tried to help me along with that goal, but I somehow stayed on my feet the whole time. I took an elbow to the face though, and I decided that was as good as anything else and wimped out for the rest of the night. It’s hard to recommend moshing. It really is. You’ve got to have the right mindset and physical stature and stamina to keep up with it, but if you can, try it at least once for one song. The community-based violence is really something to experience if you can manage it.
I went to my first punk show a little while back and was immediately hit with an overwhelming sense of déjà vu.