Feb. 02, 2010 Lingering Man
by Leanna Mistretta

He was an intriguing figure
A man with eyes that you knew lived many lives worth of lessons
Thoughts were written in his perplexed expression
He was a man of curiosity, a man that captured the meaning of weathered
Sitting peacefully at the table with papers scattered around him
Maybe he was waging a war inside himself; with the world
Sheets of paper that I longed to know the substance of
An image of an isolated genius
A want was provoked within my being to approach him; yet I refrained
I knew he was a poet as you can tell from one's eyes
His deep set, squinting, troubled eyes
Although labelling his eyes as 'troubled' is a bias poet's judgement of mine
He was man I wanted to know.
Maybe he had the answer.
The answer we're all searching for within ourselves
Are we all poets walking silenced amongst each other?

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Feb. 02, 2010 Justin Bieber is a Serial Killer
by Luke Bainbridge

If you have been listening to the radio of late then you have no doubt heard of the diabolical new teen sensation Justin Bieber. Mr. Bieber has taken the world by storm with his hit singles “One Time” and “One Less Lonely Girl”, but what truly lurks beneath the sugary-sweet surface of this pop-sensation? The answer: a sociopathic serial killer. What follows is an exhaustive analysis of the lyrics of one of Mr. Bieber’s hit songs (“One Less Lonely Girl”), and how these lyrics constitute a confession of the most grotesque of crimes perpetrated by Mr. Bieber. Join me now as we delve into the twisted mind of a lonely, obsessive mass-murderer.

Alright let's go
There's gonna be one less lonely girl (one less lonely girl)
One less lonely girl (one less lonely girl)
There's gonna be one less lonely girl (one less lonely girl)
One less lonely girl (ha)

The song begins innocently enough with Bieber chanting about how there will be “one less lonely girl”. We are taken to believe this means he will date said girl and make her happy, thereby eliminating her aforementioned loneliness. This all seems pretty normal for a fifteen year-old boy, however Mr. Bieber chooses to end his opening lines with a little laugh, what is so funny Mr. Bieber?

How many I told you’s and start overs
And shoulders have you cried on before
How many promises be honest girl
How many tears you let hit the floor
How many bags you packed
Just to take ‘em back tell me that
How many either or's...

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Dec. 03, 2009 The Streets - Everything Is Borrowed
by Christopher Scott

Mike Skinner from Birmingham, England returns as The Streets to put forth his fourth studio album in Everything Is Borrowed. Skinner achieved a significant amount of fame and success in the U.K. for his raw, drug-induced portrayal of the English working class pub-goer with his critically-acclaimed debut Original Pirate Material. Skinner began making waves in the U.S. with 2004’s A Grand Don’t Come For Free, however his core fan base remains in his home country.

On Everything Is Borrowed, Skinner ditches the ale-soaked, British middle class attitude that distinguished him from other rappers and adopts a more philosophical one as he tackles heavier issues such as religion and mortality. He even tackles current ecological issues, such as in “The Way of the Dodo". The sudden maturing of Skinner’s lyrics may come as a shock to some, as The Streets’ most attractive trait, to most, was his accurate lyrical description of the trials and tribulations of the average pub-crawler. However, Skinner hasn't completely left behind his old party animal self (“Heaven for the Weather”) or his stories of failed attempts to get laid (“Never Give In”).

Where Everything Is Borrowed separates itself from its predecessors is in its more complex musical arrangements. Tracks like “The Escapist” and the tender, ballad-like “The Strongest Person I Know” showcase Skinner’s desire to part ways with his sampler and embrace a full-band, orchestral approach to creating the music that sets the stage for...

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Oct. 30, 2009 Rihanna - Russian Roulette
by Rachael Bell

Fans of Rihanna have long been waiting for her next single which finally dropped on October 20th. Unfortunately, most of the online buzz about her release seems to be negative.

Many reviewers are criticizing the choice to release a ballad as a first single, while many others are focusing on a “Russian roulette - guns - violence - Chris Brown incident” train of thought. And I don’t get it.

Sure, the song is slow, and not the upbeat single we’ve come to expect – it’s definitely not another Umbrella or Don’t Stop the Music. There’s nothing wrong with a good ballad, like Beyonce’s Halo or If I Were a Boy from her I Am... album. When linking the negative connotations of the song to Chris Brown’s alleged abuse against Rihanna, I don’t think that is valid at all. Rihanna has remained tight lipped about the whole subject, and I doubt a vaguely violently themed song would be her means of opening up about that. Not only that, but Rihanna is no stranger to sad, haunting tunes to begin with – Disturbia stills freaks me out a little and her vocals on Jay-Z’s Run This Town gave me chills.

Finally, Rihanna is undoubtedly evolving as an artist. When she first stepped onto the scene with such tunes as Pon de Replay and SOS, her style was colourful, flirty, and fun. Take a look at photos of her from the past few months, and you’ll see a darker, edgier Rihanna with no qualms about taking a few risks.

That’s what I think Russian Roulette represents. Releasing a...

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Oct. 28, 2009 Insecurity
by Jesse Jang

and in one fell swoop, one fallen heart, teeth bared

a tentacled red beast, arteries flailing like severed,

uncontrolled pressure spraying rage,

lashed out and greedily chased

generous beggar and see-through smile and indoor eye

and kindred soul, and thoughts intertwined

away, lest they speak his mindsafe's truth

(that really he is nothing, plagued by sad

dimming dreams and aggregates of his lacks)

so that even a single person other than himself,

knew.

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Oct. 26, 2009 Deadpool – The Merc with the Mouth
by Andrew Genereaux

For those who know me even the slightest bit, you know I love comic books. For those of you who didn't know well guess what: I LOVE COMIC BOOKS! Well recently (as in months ago) I decided to add a new comic to my reading list; the Merc with the Mouth, the Crimson Comedian, the one and only Deadpool. From the first time I read a comic with him in it he instantly entered second place for best character around (sorry Deadpool no one beats Hulk!).

Now you’re asking yourself one of two questions right now “Andrew what makes this Deadpool so great?” or “Andrew who dropped you on your head as a child?” Well I’ll answer both of those for you! For those of you who have seen the Wolverine Origins movie, throw that Deadpool out the window. He’s never shot lasers out of his eyes and never had swords coming out of his hands. The only thing they got right was the quick wit and smart-ass comments. Ok so I still haven’t answered what makes Deadpool so great, well what is better then a insane mercenary who is in love with Death (yes Death is a female and Deadpool loves her), who can’t die (so much for the Deadpool/Death wedding!) and has the biggest mouth in the world? Oh did I mention he was insane?

This combination of traits breeds the most comedic anti-hero in comic book history. Which other character can come up with the idea to fight in a suit of meat... Yes that’s right Deadpool made a suit of meat armour. He has used the battle cry of “For Tacos!” made 372,844 pancakes...

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Oct. 21, 2009 Maureen
by Erin Cowan

Some of the greatest tragedies in this world are those that take people away before their time. It’s the cycle of life and inevitable, but the world grows a little dimmer without those special individuals.

My first memory of my cousin Maureen was at my great-uncle’s home in Lac Saugay, Quebec. He lived in the home that my grandmother’s family had lived in for many years. I remember the colourful glass ornaments hanging from tree branches, glittering in the summer sun, the constant murmur of gathered relatives and the smell of barbecued meat, simmering over charcoal. I remember his German Shephard, Lupo, but I think that one in particular was the 3rd or 4th in a long line of Lupos.

In the midst of my blurry memory, I remember a woman with bright, wavy red hair and a wide smile. I remember seeing her hearing aids and instantly feeling connected to her. I don’t recollect much more from that family reunion, but Maureen’s face is so clear in my mind to this day.

Maureen came to our home for Christmas when I was a pre-teen. She had just gotten a Hearing-Ear dog and she brought him with her. I admired her for being comfortable with broadcasting an invisible disability. I admired her being independent despite the limitations of deafness. I aspired to be like her.

The last time I saw her wide smile was in New Brunswick a few years ago. She had moved out there on a whim and had adjusted to life on the East Coast quickly. Again, I looked up to her for being so...

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Oct. 18, 2009 A Day in the Life Of...
by Igor Osowski

To fetch or not to fetch, that is the question:

Is it better instead to

Chase the meaningless twig

Or to rebel, and refuse to run?

But to lose the spot at the end of the bed? To stop the run

To cease, cease the incessant

Rejection and repetition.

To be sent away, embarrassed.

It’s divine to lie here, and pant

Ones rear may start to ache however,

Unbothered by the 12 year old

With no company, just a bowl of food

Let us contemplate

A question to serve too difficult;

What beast would degrade themselves?

Obedience to a child with a runny nose

Quality of life in question-

Is life as easy as this?

Do faithful need to chase and be rejected?

By what device is it finished?

Perhaps bad kibble? Would master notice?

Under a meaningless life

What think of life in a comfy bed after refusal?

Masters’ scorns a scary thought

One does not return from incomplete existence.

That rolled up newspaper keeps beasts in line.

Follow in normal flow

Turning us to mutts, half breeds

To have ones tail outstretched

Not between its legs

And walk with chest out and tongue hanging-

This in mind, it’s easy to turn to ones tail and circle

Stick in child’s hand, a mind blank

What reason to chase?

To bring back, and have thrown away again.

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Oct. 18, 2009 I F*cking Bleed Purple and Gold
by Jacquelyn Lising

I F*cking Bleed Purple and Gold: one out of the many tracks from the DJs Super Mash Bros. – I thought it would be appropriate to feature this song as it can be interpreted as Western pride. So the other day my roommate tells me about these so-called Super Mash Bros. and I fell in love with the song, after hearing it for the first ten seconds. If you’re an R&B-rap fanatic, techno-house-dance enthusiast, rock fan or if 90’s pop is more your style, there is something for all of you within the two Super Mash Bros. awesome albums. To further prove my point of diversity let’s just take a look at some of the artists featured in these mash-ups: Starship, Ying-Yang Twins, Coldplay, Akon, MGMT, Twista, Kanye West, Limp Bizkit, Mariah Carey, Def Leppard, Chingy, Michael Jackson, Backstreet Boys, 2Pac, Spicegirls and of course the epitemy of 90’s pop, the Vengaboys. I give you a 100% guarantee that you have at least 10 of the featured songs on your iPod, and mashed together, they’re that much more awesome! To attest to all I have just rambled about, and to further convince any skeptics, I have a personal testimony to prove the magnitude of these songs’ rowdiness: as soon as I heard one song I immediately downloaded 16 more and created an album titled Rowdy Extreme Times. I went to the gym, and played the entirety of the playlist twice. I realized that I was so into the music I had run 9 miles without knowing it and I wasn’t even tired! I’m one of those people who is greatly affected by...

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Oct. 18, 2009 The Kindness of Strangers
by Jesse Jang

I was a malicious little boy.

I would shake my fist at strangers as they passed and scowl, even while my caring mother held on to my other hand. I wanted them to know that I did not approve.

One day we were at a restaurant, seated in one of those booths. If I stood up on my tiptoes on the seat, I could just be tall enough to rear my little head and see the booth behind us. I shook my fist and scowled at the strange man sitting there, and then disappeared back into my seat before he had time to react. This I repeated several times.

But when I did this for the fourth or fifth time, he was ready for me. As soon as my little head poked up over the booth’s horizon, he shook his fist at me. He wasn’t scowling though, he was smiling. I sat back down instantly, wide-eyed, and quietly finished my meal. I didn’t stand up again.

I don’t remember how old I was, or what restaurant it had been. I don’t remember what food was served, or how much younger my parents looked, how much fuller their hair. All I remember is that strange man, shaking his fist and smiling. And my terror, that someone had responded to my malice with kindness.

I have very few childhood memories that are quite as vivid as that moment. As for the strange man, he probably forgot about the incident years ago. But he’s still out there somewhere, unaware that he may very well have changed the way I grew up, or changed the way I look at things, or changed who knows what else, because that memory has stayed...

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