Welker Has Left the Campus

Feature by | Matt Welker

[Editor's note: This was e-mailed to us at the last minute, so we didn't have time to include it in our print addition. However, here it is, digital and delicious. Also, Matt's accompanying e-mail read: "I implore you to print this. It is my final piece for you ever." We hope not.]

For the first time in life I can listen to Alice Cooper’s “School’s Out” righteously. Call it premature, like a sixteen-year-old’s emissions, if you must. I am technically a student for another week or two. You call it that, I’ll call you a cocksucker… bad start and weird vibes this Kirksvillian April. For all of you non-graduating folks, let me tell you: every beer tastes better as the 9th of May approaches. Even Hamm’s. Especially Hamm’s. Cigarettes light up like Christmas trees, rain falls golden in unperverted ways, and every book is regaining its magic and majesticity. That’s the third word I’ve made up, and it tastes… good. Even the phrase “perpetual unemployment” rolls around the tongue like a first kiss in a dark closet.

I am writing this for you, the not-yet-graduated.

From the Editors: Happy Birthday to The Monitor!

Golly Gee! Can you believe it? It’s actually been fifteen years!

Fifteen years of news, opinions, features, humor, reviews, comics, poetry, art, and all sorts of general absurdity.

The Monitor was founded way back in April 1995 by a group of students interested in creating a forum for community discussion. The mission was simple: anyone could submit whatever they wanted, and the humble staff would publish it. No editorial control, just a place for anyone to have their voice heard.

Over the years, a bit more humor snuck in, but The Monitor’s purpose remains the same.

It’s been a strange couple of years here at the paper. After sporadic publication in the final months of 2006, we stopped publishing completely for the entirety of 2007 as old editors graduated.

About a year ago, in a flurry of nostalgia, a few of us decided to get The Monitor up and running again. We ran into some financial trouble early in 2009, but should be up and running full force for the next school year, thanks to a great new editorial staff.

Speaking of which, that’s where you come in.

News in Briefs

News compiled by | Charlotte Keenan

Rudolph had it easy – Researchers in South Korea created the world’s first glow-in-the-dark puppy. Her name is Ruppy, and she’s the first transgenic puppy, meaning she was created using cloned cells, including a red fluorescent gene produced by sea anemones.

This is what happens when you find a stranger in the Alps – Swiss voters have agreed to ban naked hiking in the Alps, spurred by the appearance of dozens of mostly German nudists wandering through the Swiss heartland. “The reactions of the population have shown that such appearances over a large area are perceived as thoroughly disturbing and irritating,” according to a government statement.

Twilight of the Compact Disc

Opinion by | Harry Burson

A few weeks ago on Gawker Media’s “Idolator”, one of their intrepid bloggers briefly took a respite from following their RSS feed to take a trip to his local Borders as it liquidated its CD department. A follow-up to a visit to Circuit City’s liquidation back in December (This American Life coincidentally covered the same story the same week with “Scenes from a Recession“).

I found both of the posts very entertaining, maybe because I work at a , albeit one with more reasonable prices. Perhaps because much of our rural clientele does not have an Internet connection, we have yet to make considerable cuts to our CD department. Although, I’m certain I sell two or three times as many books, DVDs, and video games as I do CDs every shift. The only problem is few of those sales are going to the youngsters we are aggressively targeting. Mostly I sell country, metal, and some top 40 hip hop, very little rock beyond Nickelback.

Al-Qaeda Takes Credit For Campus Graffiti

News by | Franklin Cline

In a shocking videotape mailed to The Monitor News Staff early last week, Al-Qaeda leader Osama bin Laden claimed full credit for the anti-establishment graffiti that littered Truman State University’s campus on the weekend of April 4.

In the video, presumably recorded in one of his many underground Afghani hideouts, bin Laden celebrates the attack on the university’s scholarly aesthetic and claims that is “yet another in an ongoing series of victories for the total abolishment of the American way, or, as I like to call it, the Dumberican way.”

He also defends what many Truman students viewed as empty rhetoric, stating that “if you didn’t understand the messages, or thought that they were too simple, you are totally underthinking them.”  He directly referenced the Kirk Building graffiti which read “if you don’t rebel, don’t complain,” stating that his life has been one of rebellion and consequently that he has nothing to complain about.  He then paused to ask noted Al-Qaeda commander Ayman al-Zwahiri to please not defecate in the corner of his cave.

Why I Hate the Words ‘Emo’ and ‘Angst’

Opinion by| James Ginns

I know I’m a few years older than most Truman students. I went to high school when “emo” had a completely different meaning than it does now. It referred to a much different type of music, and liking what was called emo pretty much demonstrated your indie rock credentials and not much else. Then somewhere, I think 2004 or 2005, the words “emo” were in everyone’s mouths and it meant something decidedly different an for the worse. How did this happen?. In the words of the late George Carlin, “I was not consulted; I didn’t get an email; I didn’t get a fax.” Now being emo meant being a white middle class teenager, perpetually in despair over your lost significant other. And angst was what the emo kid was supposed to feel.

I guess it all would have been fine if it were only applied to such that specific type of person. But no, people started using emo to describe any overt expression of sadness. And that word angst seemed to now apply to the feelings of all teenagers, not just the emotionally struggling. I am aghast at the idea that some pretty bad ass bands (Candlemass, Solitude Aeternus, Christian Death) could now be described as emo-ey because their music is about sorrow. I am even more aghast regarding how ‘emo’ and ‘angst’ completely demean teenagers, as if they more constitutionally incapable of feeling any genuine despair.

Missouri’s State Capitol Building and the Dicks Inside of It

Feature by | Pooblius

The Missouri state capitol building was struck by lightning and destroyed beyond repair in 1911.  The one that they built next is still around, and was completed under budget in 1917.  Some people wanted to reallocate the leftover funds to the general budget.  A judge told them that no, all of the money originally budgeted for the capitol building would be spent on the capitol building.  So the Missouri government dudes of that time formed the Capitol Decoration Commission, whose job it was to adorn the new building and surrounding property with artwork.

One of the most famous politicians to come out of Missouri in recent times is John Ashcroft.  Mr. Ashcroft, as Attorney General of the United States in 2001, ordered the covering of the exposed breast on the Spirit of Justice statue in the Great Hall in the U.S. Department of Justice. 

TV Spotlight: Roommates

Review by | Howard Canard

It is important to state that this was written originally in early March, a full 2 weeks before the show actually premiered.  It was absolutely dreadful, my hopes were dashed, though not particularly surprisingly.  C’est la vie.

Once in a while a show comes along that makes you rethink the boundaries between fantasy and reality.  Between idealism and realism.  Between morality and impropriety.  Between what exults and what man hides.  This review is over a show that won’t touch any of these things.  Today I will review the as yet unpremiered “Roommates” on ABC Family.  May you live forever, M. Dalton.

OBAMA do not be a crushed MIDDLETON<in the center overmuch!

Opinion by | Larry Iles

Presenting at TSU Womens Gender Studies annual conference on herstorical,political studies as I do is always slautary and reminding for the soul.In order to make it interesting as my topics are dead and European parliamentarian women to a US audience,usually abstract history and nationalist media only trained,if at all,you are forced to think of analogies with the ever-obsessional present otherwise the snores become all too audible,epecially as the evening,s beforehand Born again versus the Porn cures all brigade debate will likely have exhausted all pretensions of Kirksville campus intellect in revelries of bad virility,sexist so-called humor,won,t you all dissipated be!

The Vagina Monologues: Waxed, Trimmed, and Ready for Reproduction

Opinion by | Teresa Kerbawy

Every Valentines Day Weekend, women on Truman’s campus perform the Vagina Monologues.  Every year I leave disgruntled.  At best, the Monologues create a venue or a topic in dire need. It allows an honest inspection and subsequent amazement at the female gender, the female body in its loving, hairy, powerful, wet, sensitive, generative, beautiful possibility. Ensler’s Monologues take an equally important look at subjugation, devaluation, and physical confinement of the female body and gender through verbal violence, oppressive cultural standards, war, and the reality of rape—(usually) men, taking, controlling, appropriating bodies, lives, and choices, that are not theirs.

My favorite monologues include Hair (“He made me shave my vagina”), and My Angry Vagina (“an army of people out there thinking up ways to torture my poor ass, loving vagina”), the monologue that mourns tampons, thongs, and specula. 

Pretentious Rant!

Opinion by | Noam Chumpsky

If I were spiritual, I would believe in karmic retribution. Something has led me away from spiritual beliefs; however, I certainly recognize how many things I have done to others are in turn done to me. It is unfortunate that I do not realize my faults until immediately after I have performed them. Furthermore, as often as I may learn from a mistake, new lackings or failings develop. These things seem to be very much out of my hands, in that I cannot control how others react to me and the ways that I have developed. This is certainly not the fault of my opposites, nor is it strictly my fault. Self-awareness, no matter how pretentious, is not absolute. It cannot always help those in the constant pursuit of something “better.” Regardless of my own understanding, regardless of my own awareness, new situations, over which I have no control, constantly present themselves. When they first arise, they grin in a very odd manner, knowing that I will somehow discern their secrets.

A Special Occasion

Feature by | Emily R. Sjogren

“Why are ya puttin’ napkins in there, mom?” I was just five.  My chubby legs still dangled right above the floor when I sat down to use the bathroom, but I was a good reader.

My mom, having just returned from her almost daily trip to Target, had opened a drawer in the bottom of the sink cabinet, and was trying to discretely, but casually, tuck some feminine products—Sanitary Napkins, to be more specific—away from sight.  Trying, being the key word.  She tried; she failed.  Not really wanting to have to sit down on the ledge of the bathtub and explain the whole menstrual cycle to a child who was just grasping the concepts of daily oral hygiene, my mother replied, “Oh… well… these napkins are… different.”

She closed the drawer, undoubtedly hoping her action would emphasize the closing of the conversation as well.  No such luck.  I may not have been a monkey, but they didn’t call me Curious George without a reason.

“What are they for?”  My hands clutched the sides of the toilet seat, and I casually swung my feet back and forth.

There was a pause.  “Ummm… just special occasions.”

Jacy’s Hardware

Fiction by| Rob Samuelson

“Aisle 14. Yes. The one you are standing in. Yep, that one. Over there. You’re looking right at it.”

This is my life. I sit atop the paint counter at my local Jacy’s Hardware, pointing, grunting, and sometimes shoving customers in the right direction. It took me a month to memorize this store, item by item. This was two years ago.

I am 22 years old, stay up all night, come in to work disheveled, unshaven, and unmotivated. Sadly, this behavior has made me the Employee of the Month for thirteen months running. I suspect it is because my name is the only one the owner knows.

OMG New Monitorz this week!

Guess what!

We’re putting out a whole new issue in just a couple days! We’re celebrating our fifteenth anniversary with a full-size issue. Our best yet perhaps.

Stay tuned.

moar coooookiez! and poems!

Hey Monitor folks, we’re having another bake sale tomorrow and Thursday, that’s April 1st and 2nd.  On the quad.  Be there!  Eat cookies!  Support The Monitor and our endeavor to afford printing another issue!

Also, Thursday night at 10 PM there will be a Monitor-hosted poetry slam at Il Spazio.  Two dollar cover.  Bring three poems. “Standard poetry slam rules apply,” sez the Franklin.

Local newspaper still in a rough spot – get over it!

Hello, Monitor folks. We’ve returned with another Recession Edition, but we’re hoping our next issue will be back to the 12-page format. Thanks to everyone for the donations and help during last week’s bake sale! All the support we’ve received is deeply appreciated.

However,we’re still scraping funds together, so if you feel even remotely inclined to donate to The Monitor’s cause, e-mail us at monitor.truman@gmail.com, and we’ll come to you. No kidding, we want to make as simple as possible the transfer of money out of your hands and into our printing account! Otherwise, keep submitting your creative work and come to our Thursday night meetings at 8 p.m. in the SUB Down Under.

And finally, WOOOOOO! SPRING BREAK!!!

Mens Rea

Fiction by | Robert Topping

I woke up in the back of a Hi-Tech security car feeling heinous. There was the taste of stale olive brine and pot resin on the roof of my mouth. I don’t recall the name of the officer, but he seemed nice enough if surly remote. I asked him about his wife. Then I told him he was emotionally unavailable and that I wished I had never married him. He grunted and I told him that was six years ago, a fling, she never meant anything to me. He was the one I wanted, baby. I knew we would be together forever after this; this was simply a flaw in our vain glorious monument to the monogamous institution.

Stop!

Feature by | Rob Samuelson

Isn’t it so ridiculously ridiculous how many times you hear the ridiculous word ridiculous each day? Ridiculous! There, I said it. Five times in two sentences. That’s five more times than I’ve said it in two years, and I am not kidding. And that is about how many times I hear people say it in an hour. Oh yes, I count; ask my girlfriend.

The word “ridiculous” (no longer counting because I’m referring to my hatred and no longer using it in passing) is far and away the most over- and incorrectly-used word in the American young persons’ lexicon (copyright 2008 Rob Samuelson). I despise it.

Three Ways to Repel a Prospective (Fill in the Blank)friend

Feature by | Jenny Jalack

Having been victimized by a number of the following misdemeanors far too many times, I will admit as both a connoisseur and general observer of edgy college culture that we students are often entirely too impressed with ourselves. This conceit will often lead us to insist on displaying how intensely interesting we are to helpless segments of the population, including new friends and prospective dates. I encourage you to take caution, however, and consider how exasperating your “uniqueness” can be for those of us who are still trying to figure it out.

South Korean Crap Art Dazzles American Artist

Feature by | Zhian Kamvar

What is crap art? Crap Art is the worst and best form of art at the same time. Crap art is the very definition of art by production and the very antithesis of it by product. These are both very vague definitions of it, but they are important nonetheless. Taking a look at what art is becomes another topic in of itself. The question of what is to be considered art is always on everybody’s lips. The easy answer is that no one knows. The more difficult answer that requires more time and consideration is that art is determined by all factors surrounding it. It depends on the time of creation, mostly because that dictates how the populace will feel about the work, and more importantly, it will dictate how the artist creates the art. Whatever societal changes are happening or whatever social norms, stigmas, or customs exist will be reflected in or completely ignored by the potential art.