by Kathrine Olsen-Flåte
The colors are strong, much stronger than the scent of pee. The traffic is wild and enchanting. The poverty is dark and grey, but made softer with the beautiful colors and happy smiles everywhere in New Delhi, India. I have now lived in New Delhi for over two months. I find myself feeling like New Delhi is my real new home, and I find myself trying to unwrap it’s complexities while commuting to and from work everyday.
by Allison Staggner
by Dylan Moir
Russian history is marred with violence and revolution. We all know about the Bolshevik Revolution and the nasty work Stalin did on the Soviet Union, but initially, things weren’t all that bad…discounting the extreme fucking cold and complete lack of any arable land.
But seriously, in the glory days of Kiev and Novgorod the law codes stressed fines as the main form of punishment and the feudal system hadn’t been fully developed. That’s right, peasants could actually go vacation in the Baltic if they had the luxury of knowing what that was. Torture was for the most part an unfortunate cost of getting your sorry ass kicked in all-out warfare. So naturally, things couldn’t get much worse, right?
(above: Piss Machines “we cum blood”)
Local musical act Piss Machines blends assaultive noise with obtrusive performance in an often astonishing display of vulgarity. The two man-group performs with the tag line: “everyone is a piss machine,” and if you haven’t seen them yet you surely will and should. The Monitor sat down with Matt and Keenan to talk Piss Machines:
Keenan: What the fuck type of interview is this?
TM: What inspires your guys’ art?
Keenan:Yeah, drugs and anger, and also … trying to get bitches. I wanted to be the lead singer in a noise band ‘cause I thought that’s what girls liked and I thought I’d get hella poon-tang. So far not much poon-tang.
Matt: I do it because I’m pretty sure it makes me better than everyone else. That’s all that really matters.
Keenan: … we got free beer one time and that still motivates me to this day to do what I do.
TM: Where do you see Piss Machines headed? In a year, 5 years, and 10 years?
Keenan: One year: probably be black out about this time one year from now. Five years: I’ll probably still be black out, and then 10 years: Savvis Center in St. Louis. I imagine we’ll sell out the Savvis Center.
Douglas L. Ball
30. In your own words (not copying down the lecture notes or some other source), explain the frequency/pitch difference and amplitude/loudness difference. Your answer should not focus on the detailed differences but on their abstract/conceptual differences.
Oowise a ihaasee tseenator te sa’o. Senan a hiik to tirakin a tihor-itirak ye oowise. Oonootaa a ihaasee tseenator te sa’o. Ooquaak a hiik to tirakin a tihor-itirak ye oonootaa. Totsin-ti a haahaas te ootseenator.
*Since the joke(s) of this piece is/are especially obscure, I feel that I should explain them. The prompt for question 30 says “in your own words”, so I’ve taken that literally and written the response in Skerre, my own personal constructed language. As I devised all the words in Skerre (and all the grammar surrounding them), I have used “my own words”. The prompt also says not to copy lecture notes, but the first four sentences of my response are a translation of the lecture notes. But then again, I wrote the lecture notes I translated from; was I entitled to copy them or not?
So Joesph is a slave in Egyptland now and he’s working for this guy whose name I can’t remember. It’s one of those old complicated bible names that hasn’t really caught back on yet, but for the purposes of this story we’ll call him Jesus. Jesus worked for Pharaoh as like an economic advisor or something and one day Pharaoh was having nightmares about the crops drying up and freaking out pretty good because, as Pharaoh, it was pretty much his job to make sure the crops didn’t dry up. He asked Jesus about his dreams and Jesus said, “I don’t know, but my slave Joseph is really good at reading dreams for some reason and he also may or may not be sleeping with my wife but we’re gonna skip over that part for now,” and Pharaoh was like, “sweet, why don’t you go get him.”
Poetry is the crust you scrape off your eyelids every morning before you face the drear of waking life. Share your crusty tidbits with the Monitor at:
Running down fault lines
Apples to Snapples
Life tree brings seed.
Life tree brings greed.
“Take heed, breed need,”
sang the old life tree.