The Wake

Democracy, in its most basic definition, means the rule of the people. However, American historians have neglected any information that would contradict democracy in America. Slavery undermined democracy in America until the Civil War. Jim Crow laws and “separate but equal” remained in America until the Civil Rights movement. The absence of workers’ rights until President Franklin Roosevelt’s New Deal isn’t taught in schools. The U.S. government did not allow women’s suffrage until the 19th amendment. The list goes on. African-American’s rights, workers’ rights and women’s rights still have to be fought for—they are not a guarantee. In the past …

Read more →

Like many people, I started smoking because my friends did. I was 16. I started out as a social smoker, but then it became my choice form of stress-relief. A cigarette was my accessory, my excuse and one of my favorite pastimes. In spite of warnings from my mother, who is an oncologist, I smoked daily for three years. I got two tobacco tickets before I turned 18, but I still just couldn’t believe smoking was that bad. I was the lone smoker outside of lecture halls in sub-zero temperatures, which definitely wasn’t social smoking. Nothing was a good enough …

Read more →

We all remember our first semester freshman year. We fled to our dorm rooms every chance we got (but still managed to never speak to our roommate who was ALWAYS THERE) and avoided as much human contact as possible. We had no friends at ALL, except the kids from our high school we clung to in the first couple weeks. We were desperate, we were lonely and we were pathetic. Right? … Right?Well, I was. I thought I’d never have friends again. The future was a bleak black hole of despair and woe, where I would sit looking up at …

Read more →

If Mattel packaged the Dresden Dolls, lead singer/pianist Amanda Palmer would be marketed as Barbie’s evil twin sister—her antithesis with dark hair, a purposefully pale face, and a penchant for black. Whereas drummer Brian Viglione would pose within the confines of his plastic packaging as Ken’s archenemy—a quiet menace with kohl-rimmed eyes. The self-proclaimed “Brechtian punk cabaret” duo’s second studio album exudes emotion wrought from the throes of passion (“Dirty Business”) and the bottom of a barrel (“My Alcoholic Friends”). The acid-laced lyrics on “Backstabber,” “Shit lover! Off-brusher! / Jaded little joy crusher!” are offset by Palmer’s melodic piano playing, …

Read more →

The music of Montreal outfit the Unicorns is most accurately remembered as smart but sporadic, a catalog of scattered lo-fi scuzz-pop filled with painfully precocious eruptions. They were delightful and difficult and destined to eventually combust.Calling it quits in 2004 after the release of their sole LP, the genius Who Will Cut Our Hair When We’re Gone?, members Nick Diamonds and J’aime Tambeur dabbled briefly in obscure side projects. (Anyone remember Th’ Corn Gangg? Neither do we.) Now they’ve banded together again, sans guitarist Alden Penner, as the bright and hopefully long-term Islands.“We noticed something glowing / and it …

Read more →

“This is not a concert,” says composer Randall Davidson, welcoming the audience to the Southern Theater. For a minute, I was confused; I thought I was at a concert. But Sound Check, a new monthly music series at the Southern Theater, is more than just a chance to hear new music sponsored by the American Composers Forum. It is an opportunity to engage in a dialogue with the composers and performers; to get inside the creative process.On April 11, the audience at the Southern was treated to five pieces of new music, ranging from operatic art songs to free jazz. …

Read more →

“I’ll have the Paralyzed Polynesian.” Our waitress (who looked like Maggie Gyllenhall with tattoo sleeves and half-inch wide black spikes through her ears) showed up before I really had a chance to fully peruse the drink menu. Fortunately, Psycho Suzi’s has devised an ingenious drink ordering system. One can simply drag his or her finger across the mixed drink section of the menu until he or she arrives at the tiki man illustration that represents his or her desired level of drunkenness. I chose the tiki man who had lost his pants.Psycho Suzi’s Motor Lounge is an odd oasis after …

Read more →

“Ask any dope rat where the junk’s spraying and they’ll say they scraped it off that, who scored it off this, who bought it off someone; after four or five connections, the list always ends with the Pin.” Right there is your typical piece of dialogue from the recent neo-noir Brick. It’s that kind of over-the-top pulp novel speak that will either make you giddy with absurdity or completely turn you off.The story’s crimes and investigations all happen in and around a California high school, a locale rife for noir treatment. With that as a backdrop, the film creates an …

Read more →

Your shoes stick to the tacky theater lobby as, popcorn in hand, you wait for the orange vests to open the theater doors. A hero’s symbol puffs with pride on your shirt, cracked and faded by years of love. A nervous tic works at your cheek as you tap your watch, unable to believe that after years of waiting, you must wait still. And then, in the ticket line behind you, you overhear:“How about we see that V for Vendetta movie?”“Ugh. A comic book movie? Let’s see something good.”It’s a sentiment uttered far too often, and weighted with enough ignorance …

Read more →

(Ago)
The first time I rode a school bus
I cried and clutched and nearly lost my way
And the teacher said maybe it would take me
Where I needed to go
And my parents were not at home. …

Read more →

We voted in the van
apple orchard, corn maze, or
petting zoo first?
Petting zoo first. I sprinted ahead of my sister
toward an aluminum gate and a dented
garbage can, but instead of the glassy gloss
of horsehair, a yellow jacket reached me first.Me first? My finger pricked
by the needle of that buzzing spindle-wheel.And then onto the corn maze,
my sister in the lead and me behind
my extended hand humming with pain?
Past the moan of dried corn husks.And all in-between I remember only
my hand and myself, hating democracy.

The edge of my mind is a tethered bee
that flies around a pencil
on a mint-green line of floss.
If I was smart I wouldn’t touch it,
but my heart has thick red secrets,
and from time to time they bug me
and I have to write them down.March 20, 2006, 1:41 amQuestions
1.What are the “thick red secrets”?
2. Who or what is the antagonist of this poem?
3. What is “it” in line four?
4. What is the form of the poem?

Web Editor’s Note: To see the first installment of “The Exhibit” please .There was one lone guard on the fourth floor. He was old, his limbs were weak. He wasn’t about to go running around like the others. He would be of more use, he told himself, staying at his post. Let the others give chase.He had spent most of his life tending the museum, and he liked it. It was quiet and peaceful. He knew every inch of it, knew the routines and systems, knew how to handle all the little problems that worked their way in from …

Read more →

For those of us who attended the T.C. Boyle reading, author and University of Minnesota graduate instructor Brian Malloy may not come across with the same prestige—he hasn’t authored two dozen books, gone on as many European tours that he’s forgotten most of or won enough awards to sell books without a promo advisor. Malloy represents another side of successful writing. He does what he wants and still gets paid for it, which puts him in a percentile over those of us who dream of our first novel’s success without having written it. Malloy’s on his third book, and won’t …

Read more →

“Help stop violence?” asks Jenny Strand, before thrusting small yellow fliers into the hands of two polo-clad students crossing the stretch of pavement bridging the University of Minnesota’s East and West banks. “Eat pancakes for dinner,” the papers exclaim in bold black type over an illustration of a super-size stack of flapjacks. The fundraiser (at greasy-spoon favorite, Al’s Breakfast) is a playful ploy to promote a serious event: Take Back the Night, a rally denouncing violence against women. And it works. By 5:15 p.m. on Friday, every bar stool beneath the long yellow counter is occupied by students in tees …

Read more →