or Where the hell was everyone last Friday night?
By the cooperative council for a non-wack social scene
Photos by Kari Thompson
Last Friday night’s party had a slew of campus Freaks and/or Geeks crawling out of their respective crevices stashed throughout the dampest dungeons, and most studious corners of Antioch Campus.
Birch space was transformed into the middle school auditorium dance space of our dreams, and I personally found it hard not to revert to the pre-pubescent wallflowerish tendencies of my youth as my eyes were met with a bevy of familiar faces transformed into caricatures of S&M sex sluts, and D&D dorkbags. Special shout outs go to J Switlick- D.J. spinster extraordinaire for holding it down on the tables for upwards of 2 hours, and playing my hearts secret anthem- yeah, never mind all the posturing, this reporter is searching for a Real Love, just like Mary J. circa 1995.
Megan Homewood & Whitney
Stark reveal surprising inner life
But was the party as Michael Khayat put it so eloquently “Lameo, same-o, no one to blame-o, just like taco bell- different party, same ingredients?� Or was it another shining example of the stylish debauchery which permeates the underbelly of our fine school? It’s kind of like the way people try purposefully to show up late to things so they won’t be the first ones there, but if no one comes, there is no party. It’s a dangerous cycle, people become disillusioned by the perceived sameness of Friday night parties, and numbers dwindle- yes loyal readers, skin will be bared, pelvises will be ground into each other in a rhythmic humpy fashion, first years will inevitably fall down, but just like vaginas- no two parties are the same. We need numbers, turn out, seriously what else is going on in our sleepy Midwestern hollow? It’s worth showing up if only to see Nate Love dance, and with a broom no less! I bet you’re sorry you missed that.
Some interviewees were more optimistic- or drunk, 2nd year transfer Shauna Pearson reminisced, “ I had a great time. Tequila was the devil, Jameson was like a sub-devil, but Tequila was actually Satan.� Other part goers were impressed with the effort put into outfits, Patrice Wyman remarked- “ Carrie had a sweet ass outfit, her glasses were fucking sweet… I got really shit faced.� It goes w i t h o u t saying shit faced was a theme last Friday night, I heard at least two tales of near death experiences. One party goer recalled- “A thump, followed by a red head on the ground.� And another terrifying tale of death defiance had a certain saran wrapped third year dangling precariously from a third floor window of North, before she was rescued by another heroic third year who was thoughtful enough to pull her back in through a second story window. Yes communityalcohol, plus irresponsibility equals blatant displays of stupid. It’s all right, you can hate me, I’m bulletproof.
For the name dropping portion of my article I will start with Wendy-Lynn Zeldin, resplendent in classy black dress and cute little bow- I have no words, other than: call me. James Kutil, creative as always was begging for a kick in the pants as he shook his cute little ass all over the dance floor, accompanied by Patrice “Gramma� Wyman who aside from being adorable was eerily reminiscent of the crazy cat lady I grew up down the block from. Meredith “lady on the streets, freak in the sheets� Root wielded a boa with uncanny expertise as she shook her shit with assassin like precision. First years Jeremiah and Riley impressively shined the dance floor with a rhythmic compulsion that’s still sending chills through my girly parts, and Walid- Oh Walid, who knew six simple words could drip like poetry from your lips and straight into my subconscious, when the world is silent I can still hear you saying “Can I roll up on you?� what a gentleman. Other notable guests included a goose, a rat-tailed sailor, and Captain Kirk, Chris McKinless’ nipples were unfortunately nowhere to be seen. Mariel Traiman had to say of the evening “ It was fun. People looked good. I got to make out…a lot.� Her positivity is always appreciated in the sometimes sea of emotive ambivalence, for example when questioned about his feelings on the evening Wesley “Danger� Hiserman had only to say: “The cigarette wasn’t worth 25 cents�.
Not to be forgotten were the 4 (by my slightly intoxicated count) women in lab coats. I had no idea Antioch’s pre-med program was so prolific, I felt like I was dodging speculums and bio-technology like Steve Lawry dodges direct questions from the student body… j/k. Please don’t shut us down. Basketball shorts, and domesticated animals on t-shirts were also in high style, Whitney Stark’s “I <3 Horses� t-shirt still stands out in my mind.
Jelesia Clyburn coerced the night into a beautiful finish with her enviable music selection skills, and sent the Antioch freak and geek population stumbling drunkenly back to their beds, to rest their sweaty little heads on their bed bath and beyond pillows, and slip off into the dream world. I feel that a good party is truly revolutionary. Every time we get together and listen to the wisdom of top 40 hip hop and R&B jams, jump, spin, grind, and slink surreptitiously into corners to make out with fervent passionwe prove that we can transcend the bullshit. Every party is direct action- when we come together over the common goal of fun, when we dance in the face of adversity, when we showcase blatant displays of deviant sexuality and dissidence from the status quo of “college party culture� we become stronger as people, and as a community. Do not write off parties as “same shit, different costumes� embrace the silliness, and the opportunity to uphold a legacy of true radicalism- for every time a boy slips on a skirt, or some youngin’ gets their first taste of non-monogamy, every time someone finds themselves comfortable enough to dance like a spaz face with a group of co-conspiring spaz faces, we are truly (to quote Gandhi) “Be(ing) the change we wish to see in the world.�
Riding off on my high horse into the sunset- this is the Cooperative council for a non-wack social scene urging you to stop being such a cynical shut in ass hole and come out and dance, cuz you might think you’re to cool for school, but you’re probably not. Except for maybe a couple of you.
Keri gregory looks for freakish slam dunk