The Wake

Zach Puchtel will probably not be making headlines for the University of Minnesota’s men’s basketball team anytime soon; but that doesn’t bother him.For Puchtel, simply being part of the team as a walk-on is a dream come true. A 2001 Hopkins High School graduate, Puchtel’s route to playing Division-I basketball has been a counterintuitive one. As a high school star basketball and football player, Puchtel received multiple offers to play at the Division-I level, including offers from Wisconsin and Nebraska to play football.Puchtel, also an outstanding student at Hopkins, was then approached by Harvard. The question that …

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The days of Gopher Women’s basketball All-American Lindsey Whalen are long gone. After last season, there’s no more Baby Shaq manning the paint either, (a.k.a. Janel McCarville, Minnesota’s two-time All-American center). As these players have taken their talents to the WNBA, the 2005-06 Gophers have continued to thrive among the heavyweights in one of the nation’s toughest conferences.Minnesota began its new season with a home tournament sweep at the Barn (Minnesota’s home court—Williams Arena) that included a championship victory over 15th-ranked Stanford. From there, the team traveled to the U.S. Virgin Islands and earned two more victories while winning …

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Before performing the song “Masters of War,” Bob Dylan once said, “I don’t mind the Ten Commandments, I believe in the Ten Commandments. The first one, ‘I am the Lord thy God,’ is a great commandment, if it isn’t said by the wrong people.” Decades after Dylan’s remarks, the wrong people still have the loudest voices when representing religion. Televangelist Pat Robertson is second only to President George W. Bush in using religion as an instrument to gain power. Just as Bush campaigned that “God wants me to be president” to the religious conservatives and evangelicals of America to sway …

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The world seems to eat multiculturalism up with a spoon. The University of Minnesota has the multicultural kickoff every year, McDonald’s has a website dedicated entirely to it’s Asian customers. All this fuss over everyone being included, Being a minority pretty much kicks ass. But this story is not about that, my friends. This is about my plight: the plight of someone only half multicultural. I am not white enough to join the yacht club, not Asian enough to be a manicurist. Neither negative stereotype works, and that’s a sad state of affairs. I am terrible at math, I did …

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It was with a hopeful air that I stepped into the Bell Auditorium one evening in January to view a documentary titled POPaganda: The Art and Subversion of Ron English. English, a visual artist who bears a striking resemblance to the late Jerry Garcia, gained notoriety during the ’80s with his infamous billboard debauchery. For example, he and his pals replaced the Apple “Think Different” ads—which featured pictures of notable different thinkers such as Amelia Earheart and Albert Einstein—with pictures of Adolph Hitler and Charles Manson while retaining the Apple emblem. If you’ve ever seen an obese Ronald McDonald displayed …

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Do you like movies with super-happy endings where everything comes together all nice and tidy? Do you like over the top, sophomoric comedy? Have you been waiting all your life for Bill Murray to do another movie like Caddy Shack? Then don’t bother seeing Broken Flowers. Not only will you be disappointed, you just might spontaneously combust from frustration. For the rest of you, let’s continue.In Broken Flowers, out now on DVD, Don Johnston (Murray) is a past-his-prime ladies man who has just been left by his latest girlfriend. To further confuse things, he receives an unsigned letter claiming that …

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Somehow, I have nearly all of Ryan Adams’ albums. And while this is an embarrassing admittance, I feel the accumulation has been strangely necessary. Perhaps I continue to lend my ears in hopes that Adams will escape his status as alt-country’s biggest tool. After all, his infamy is best attributed to hurried, expendable albums (three in 2005 alone) rather than spontaneous masterpieces.Therefore, it was easy to get excited about 29, Adams’ latest on the Lost Highway label. Each song on the nine-track narrative is meant to represent a year in the 31-year-old Adams’ t20s, hinting at sincerity. He also re-teamed …

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Fifteen minutes until show time, I tiptoe through the sliding doors into the dimly lit cabaret. Though there are several seats available on the main floor, I am strangely hypnotized by the red vinyl that adorns the six rows of risers behind them. Unable to resist their allure, I situate myself on level five near the railing. Just as I get comfortable, I feel a curious tug at my pant leg. I look down to discover a petite ponytailed waitress who wonders which of Bryant Lake’s four variations of the Bloody Mary would suit my palate. Fantastic! I opt …

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“When your friends are your best critics, it’s a healthy thing” says Jason Collett of his new album Idols of Exile. As a prominent member of the Arts and Crafts record label/musicians collective in Toronto, Collett has worked with his friends on a number of projects, including Broken Social Scene and Apostle of Hustle. Idols of Exile, his formal solo debut, speaks volumes about the musical collective as a whole. “Its natural to have the ones that are close to you—who you play with all the time, not just on stage but off stage, around a kitchen table, in the …

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Guitarist Derek Trucks has garnered an impressive amount of praise for someone under 30. Not only is the 26-year-old considered a musician of incredible technical ability, but also one with a mature grasp of improvisation and a passionate style of playing. His skills as a slide guitarist and his fusion of many genres have made the Derek Trucks Band a favorite among concertgoers. And while Trucks is considered a must-see live act, his new album, Songlines, finds the guitarist focusing on the possibilities that the recording studio has to offer.“Up until this point, everything had been live … with this …

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She smiles softly, shyly
lolling eye to ground to me to ground
to me,
her lifted heel turned out edge to toe,
to ground,
to rock her body slowly.
“Want to go to fuck?” she says
in broken English, wordless,
on the tip of her tongue
the words mean nothing,
teeth diagonaled in their gums, the scent of blood
behind them,
blood in sheets,
cold spit-laced sheets.I ask …

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I’m restless again. I’m folded into the curves of the blankets, melted into the pillows. I feel hot and sticky and shed the fleece and cotton skins that envelope me. Almost immediately, a chill runs through me, and I pull them back on. I gaze into the blankness of the wall, then flip back to stare at the dull orange glow of the alarm clock. I roll flat on my back and trace the textures of the ceiling with my eyes.I close my eyes, desperately squeezing until the muscles ache. In my head, I constantly berate myself. Stop …

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The basalt guest chips finger from hour,
Your hair turns the river in a bended way
And fallow light should love the darkened tower.What dour faces does the silent history powder?
For livid gin makes you forget the pay:
The basalt guest chips finger from hour.So drink broke the lips down-turned and sour,
It borrowed the palace arch, on which you lay,
And fallow light should love the darkened tower.A dull tree knotted the spirits weird power,
The sky heavy on your red face goes as it may,
The basalt guest chips finger from hour.Moving pair of lights within lights …

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The New York Times’ Best Sellers List has gotten under my skin like a noxious rash. It’s a rash I want to scratch because I have both contempt and admiration for it. Like many lovers of the written word, I consult the list to see what people are reading. But if the list represents current reading trends, people are reading the same books over and over again. The Best Sellers List demonstrates the stagnating nature of literature. The same books remain in the top-five spots for ages. This worries me because the list suggests our culture isn’t interested in the …

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Trip this shit man, it’ll free your mind
Swallow it
But only if you wantAnd make no mistake
I’m no babysitter
And if you don’t know your way, you’re soon to get lostSquashed under thick heavy block chords
Over-amplified and distorted by the child on the organ
Those rhythmic flourishes on the attuned electric battleaxe will be of no comfort
And those lumpy, oddly shaped pulsations invigorating the madness
They’ll hardly consolidate that feedback into some sort of package
It’s one hell of a dull blade man
And it sticks into the most profane of placesStill yearning for my …

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