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Yes We Mystic will be your Forgiver

By
EIC
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0
The theme of betrayal and forgiveness courses through the band’s latest release.

After touring through Germany and the UK, Winnipeg band Yes We Mystic are excited to return home. “Touring Western Canada is our favorite because that’s what’s familiar to us. It’s where we started,” Adam Fuhr, lead vocalist and guitarist, said.

The band have made a dynamic statement with their latest effort, Forgiver. Prior to the album’s release, they ran an interesting campaign in 10 different cities. They put up posters asking people to text the answer to “What have you been unable to forgive?” to a number on the poster, along with their album heading scrawled across the poster.

It was brilliant brand marketing on their part, allowing them to connect with people on a broadly relatable subject and introducing the public to their folk-tinged indie style.

They certainly made Canada Day especially rad for Vancouverites who saw them live at the Biltmore Cabaret, bringing forth an exceptional live performance. I have never heard such a seamless transition from recorded to live sound.

The passionate and intense way each of the band members performed completely captivated the crowd, who were unable to keep from swaying to the music. The only way I can describe the energy of the band on the cavernous stage of the Biltmore Cabaret is that it was as though each member was literally throwing themselves into their instruments.

My favourite moment was when keyboardist Jodi Plenert played an intense verse on the cello, then actually threw aside her bow in order to play the notes on the keyboard just in time.

The album, which plays on the theme of betrayal and forgiveness, made for a beautiful, nostalgic, and orchestral set. Combined with a couple of rock covers, the concert met every expectation in the crowd.

Fuhr and Keegan Steele collaborate in creating the songs, typically with Fuhr composing the music and Steele writing the words. “For inspiration we draw from things we like just as most musicians do, but we also try to draw from things we don’t like,” Fuhr explained. “For example, we’ll try to take a sound that is off-putting or has become a cliché over the years and use what was once good about it to make something fresh and new.”

It is clear that Yes We Mystic have come a long way since their start and has a really great team of dedicated musicians. “Keegan and I were in another band in high school and it was a mess but lots of fun,” Fuhr said. “When the band broke up in a very dramatic and high school way, we decided we weren’t ready to quit music just yet.”

Mike and Dave Need Wedding Dates isn’t as dumb as it sounds

By
EIC
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0
Only a movie like this could make "lavender juice box" work as a new name for a vagina.

If you’ve seen a romantic comedy before, you know the plot of Mike and Dave Need Wedding Dates: boy meets girl in quirky circumstance, things go wrong, things get deep, things get worse, everyone has a coming-of-age moment, the leads save the day, and — if you’re lucky — it ends with a dance number. What makes this movie stand out is that it’s actually funny.

The film starts with the greatest visual representation of expectations versus reality that I’ve ever seen, kicking off the plot early and somewhat haphazardly. As the titular Mike (Adam Devine) and Dave (Zac Efron) search for the perfect girls to take to their sister’s wedding, we meet Alice (Anna Kendrick) and Tatiana (Aubrey Plaza), out of work waitresses who are not in the best place in their lives. When the girls see the viral news story about two brothers trying to find dates to take to Hawaii, they hatch a plan to meet and trick them into taking them on an all-expenses-paid vacation.

There were three things about this movie that surprised me, the first of which being that Aubrey Plaza wasn’t the best character in the movie. Going into the showing, I was convinced that if anyone could save a movie like this from being a total shit show, it was Plaza.

However, her character was poorly written, her acting felt forced, and her chemistry with the other characters was nonexistent. There are brief moments when Plaza’s true nature shines through — her best scenes by far come halfway through the movie — but they are few and far between. The biggest mistake this movie made was thinking Plaza could convincingly play a character that unironically says “gurl.”

The second surprise of the movie was how good Efron and Devine were together. These two aren’t the most likely pair, but their ability to play off one another is undeniable.

Efron does have his lacklustre moments — especially in early scenes with co-star Kendrick — but overall, his character is really entertaining. Devine is the star of the movie, bringing every bit of comedy chops he has. Though the two are better together, Devine doesn’t need any help getting laughs on his own.

However, the biggest surprise of Mike and Dave Need Wedding Dates was that it was actually pretty good.

Was it the most original movie out there? No. Mike and Dave will not be receiving any nominations come awards season, but it’s a fun way to spend a night out at the movies. You’ll laugh, you’ll feel — the line “I used to think I was destined for great things” hit a little too close to home — and you’ll learn an important lesson that you probably should have already known: don’t try to find a fucking wedding date on Craigslist.

CINEPHILIA: An off-the-leash look at man’s best friend

By
EIC
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0
While the human is away the cat will play, or just eat your roast chicken.

The Secret Life of Pets is easily distracted and prone to tangents, like a dog that suddenly chases after a ball.

Directed by Yarrow Cheney and Chris Renaud, The Secret Life of Pets imagines what your domesticated critters are doing while you’re away. The story centers on Max, an only pet whose owner rescues a stray dog, forcing the pampered terrier to share his space. When Max and his new roommate Duke get lost and picked up by an underground group of stray animals, they have to find their way back home before their owner returns from work.

What makes The Secret Life of Pets exceptional is also what makes it frustrating: it isn’t on a leash. Because there are no rules, there isn’t a rigid structure, and we leap between plot points with random occurrences rather than psychological motivations, which is in large part because most of the characters act purely on instinct.

When Max and Duke are threatened by a snake, a pile of bricks fall from the sky, then an entire wall. It’s something you might see in a Looney Tunes sketch, but within the confines of a feature-length film. The villain has motivations, but he quickly forgets them; there are character arcs, but they happen abruptly. The story is really just a framing device for a series of set pieces and funny situations. The Secret Life of Pets puts us in the manic headspace of an animal.

Thankfully, the film is committed to its comic ideas if not its thematic ones. Visually, we see things through a pet’s point of view: skyscrapers, cars, and people appear as though they’ve been squished to be tall and skinny, which is what you could imagine seeing if you lived your life two feet off the ground. Tonally, the perspective is disjointed and upbeat, and there is a sort of slapstick logic to a lot of what happens.

The jokes are simple in structure: do the opposite of what’s expected. A fluffy bunny is evil, an old dog with wheels for back legs is wicked fast, and a posh poodle in a luxury apartment rocks out to heavy metal when his owner is away.

Authored by the studio behind Despicable Me, The Secret Life of Pets is high-energy with a short attention span. It indulges in its creator’s best and worst impulses: skillful comic timing and lazy humour. This is a unique, flawed, enjoyable, and exhausting film. Although it’s devoid of meaning or feeling, there exists a bombastic, free-running spirit inside. The Energizer Bunny would be jealous.

An Open Letter from an Unrepentant Foodie

By
Peak Web
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0

Anyone who knows me personally knows that one of my greatest passions in life is good food. Legend has it, in fact, that like some sort of modern-adaptation gender-swapped Demeter, I emerged from the womb with a cornucopia in one hand and a pumpkin spice latte in the other. Bearing that in mind, watching fine meals go to waste is, understandably, a sore point.

I’ve fasted for Ramadan since the seventh grade, and grown up with my parents’ stories of working to escape poverty in a new country. I’ve undergone serious emotional upheavals due to Pretty Little Liars’ sharp decline in quality with little besides cinnamon swirl coffee cakes and green tea frappuccinos to comfort me. Those experiences have shaped me into a particularly vicious defender of the rights of all that is delicious.

The social etiquette engineered by a patriarchy that seeks to drive every single one of us to regret eating that extra cherry pie has silenced my blazing desire for justice on myriad occasions. I’ve seen close friends of mine drop Tim Hortons goods and chuck them away despite no actual food-floor contact having been made. On a field trip to the Chamber of Commerce to watch yet another politician wax lyrical about what they want us to believe are the “real issues,” I noted numerous unrepentant one-percenters abandoning plates of New York cheesecake because the colour contrasted with their perfectly sculpted buns and made for a suboptimal Instagram #foodporn post.

Look, I won’t bring the starving residents of developing countries into this. In fact, I have far too much respect for their daily struggles to so much as speak of them in the same sentence as the sycophants of extremist cuisine capitalism whom I criticize. But I ask those of you who can afford to spend $50+ at The Keg and trash half your dessert to at minimum consider the feelings of the petit bourgeois who settle for Superstore’s trusty tubs of heavenly hash ice cream.

That iced capp you just clumsily fumbled? Not one bit of it kissed dirt, you cotton-headed ninny-muggin. If it was good enough for you when you bought it, it’s still good enough for you now! Your “ending is better than mending” attitude is the reason we’re probably all doomed to an artless dystopia of social castes and hallucinogen addictions.

If you mean to forsake everything that you drop out of some bizarre scruples, then by God, start with that course you decided to take in a later semester (I promise you round two is probably not going to be any better), or that stale top 40 mixtape of which you’re probably so proud. And you know what? I bet Drake, Sia, and Selena Gomez all finish every last bite of their dishes and tip well to boot.

Alternatively, find some goddamn coordination if it helps you sleep peacefully. I understand the three-second rule doesn’t work for every scenario, but at least try to develop the grace, balance, and elegance necessary to cherish the spoils of your labour. Tell yourself that you deserve better than wasted, uneaten Twinkies.

With sincere love, and hope and confidence in my heart that you’ll change for the better,
A morally infuriated social crustice warrior,

Zach Siddiqui      

Other stupid holidays white people are bound to advocate for

By
EIC
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0

You may notice that we white people seem to ask for a whole load of stupid holidays. What most people don’t know, however, is that we whites have a plethora of frivolous holidays that we have yet to drop your way. Here’s a list of some other ones we’re getting ready to advocate for.

Reverse Racism Remembrance Day

 Can you remember all those times someone has referred to you as a cracker or honky? Well, I can remember all three! We would like to make November 12 a day to remember all those racist insults non-white people have ever thrown our way, with a moment of silence followed by a solemn performance of the “Chicken Dance.” Take that, reverse racism!

Basic Bitch/Bro Appreciation Day

 Whip out your Uggs and sip your pumpkin spice lattes, people — it’s time for the most basic day in history! February 6 is a time to celebrate your inner basic bitch or bro. This is an excellent time to head on over to Starbucks and chant “OMG I CAN’T EVEN!” as you sample a cornucopia of caffeine-infused beverages.

Bring Your Minority Friend to Work Day

Tired of everyone assuming you only have white friends? We feel your pain. On March 12, show up those generalizing assholes by bringing that one minority friend you have to work. Whether it’s your black friend who struggles to maintain a smile while you say the N-word during a Drake song, or that Asian friend who you make fun of for not being able to use chopsticks properly. You know you aren’t a racist, and fuck anyone who says otherwise!

Vent Your White Guilt Day

Many white people in this world totally aren’t racist at all, and just really mean well — and on May 27, by God, are we going to remind you all for the millionth time. So everyone, don’t be threatened if some white guy walks up to you to apologize for slavery, even though you’re actually Persian. We need to remind you that we feel really bad about a lot of shit, even if we don’t remember exactly who we did what shit to. Look, the point is we feel really bad guys! Can’t we just all get along?

Deliberating On Who is White Day

 This is the most important day for white people, because it’s the day we decide who is in the ‘club.’ Originally reserved for WASPs only, eventually we finally got around to bringing Irish, Italian, and Spanish people into the fold. So on June 25, get ready for us to figure out who’s in and who’s out. In the ‘40s Jewish people weren’t in vogue, but now they’re white as hell! And in the present day, anyone who’s Muslim is seen as some brown person who’s potentially a terrorist. So come on in and celebrate the lottery of who is least likely to get profiled in Western countries based on race! Woohoo!

You know you’re a gender studies student when…

By
EIC
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1

As a student in the tiny department of gender, sexuality, and women’s studies (GSWS), I get to be in the most engaging, thought-provoking, and entertaining classes every semester. Here are four tell-tale signs that you may be a GSWS student.

  • You become a feminist unicorn. Sniffing out discrimination, maiming misogyny with unicorn horns, and stomping out sexism with our hooves is what we do best, to achieve equality for all genders. We also wear sparkles, because we are fucking unicorns.
  • You become critical of everything. Remember that popular song by The Weeknd? Have fun pretending that those misogynistic lyrics don’t exist. Do you still love it anyway? Yes, of course — but that critical lens, once open, shall never close again!
  • You’ve been targeted by an anti-feminist Twitter troll. Ah, behold the typical ramblings of anti-feminists. With their keen talent for vulgar language and missing a point, get ready for comments such as, “Oooh. . . the big bad patriarchy boogeyman is out to get you??” Insert eye-roll here.
  • You love being completely aware of the gender norms that people follow.  Well, somebody told me that I can’t do something because of my gender again. Please excuse me while I go all Judith Butler on you and send those norms down to hell.

I don’t love myself, deal with it

By
EIC
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0
Hello. My name’s Courtney Miller and I don’t love myself.

 

It’s a simple statement that shouldn’t be a big deal. Nothing says that I’m required to give myself my own undying devotion — nothing except for the prolific mantra in our Western culture that states I do in fact need to love myself, and that if I can’t or I’m not trying to do so, there must be something wrong with me.

We even take it a step further by demanding that someone must love themselves before they can be in a loving relationship with someone else, or before anyone else will be able to love them. It’s an incredibly problematic sentiment, especially when we blur the definition of self-love to encompass self-value as well.

“If you don’t love yourself, how can you expect anyone else to love you?” is a question I’ve not only been asked myself, but one that has spread through our collective consciousness. These messages of self-love proliferate throughout our media, literature, and entertainment, and their toxicity has got to go. I don’t enjoy immersing myself in this culture of self-assigned self-worth.

I’m here to tell you that it’s all bullshit. If you love yourself, that’s fantastic. But there is nothing wrong with someone who doesn’t, and we should be more cognizant of the fact that not everyone even can. It should not be something we require of others.

I do not need to love myself in order to love others

When we push the idea of self-love on those who don’t feel capable of that experience, we’re only adding to their problems. No one should feel like an outcast because they don’t, won’t, or can’t participate in the same self-adoration rituals.

I probably will never love myself. I’ve accepted that, and others should, too. But just because I cannot love myself, or value myself, does not mean that I am incapable of engaging in love or having value. There is no reason why I cannot enjoy a happy, fulfilling life despite not loving myself. Nor do I need to love myself in order to love others.

I am the closest I have ever been to loving myself, and it’s not because I’ve meditated or done yoga, or read one of those self-help books about eating, praying, and loving, or had plenty of ‘me time.’  I already know and understand myself. That’s how I know that I don’t love myself.

Rather, I am the closest I have ever been because I’ve found somebody I love more than anyone else, and that connection gives me fulfillment.

She doesn’t need me to love myself, because she’s accepted that my lack of self-love is part of who I am. Despite not conforming to societal expectations, I have a wonderful relationship. “It’s okay if you don’t love yourself,” she said to me one day. “I love you enough for the both of us.”

We need more of this. People should be supporting others, not ostracizing them because they don’t feel comfortable engaging in self-adoration.

So please, don’t passive-aggressively send me links to BuzzFeed articles about how to love myself, don’t suggest self-help books to me, and don’t tell me I just need to find myself. Trust that I know myself well enough to be able to find my own inner peace, even if it doesn’t look like yours. Love isn’t one size fits all, so stop trying to make it that way.

It’s exhausting to be surrounded by people giving relationship advice that entirely consists of mantras like “You need to love yourself before you can love someone else.” We shouldn’t tell people who to love, and that means we shouldn’t tell them how to love, either.

Not only do you not have to love yourself to love someone romantically — you don’t even have to love someone else at all. How you feel is how you feel, so screw people who tell you that you’re doing it wrong. Feelings are never incorrect. No one can dictate to someone else how they should feel.

If you want to learn how to love yourself, go for it. I wish you all the success in the world. But don’t try to shoehorn self-love into your life if it doesn’t feel right. Don’t do it if it’ll only frustrate and upset you. You are how you are, and you are lovely as-is.

Peak Comics: Peers

By
EIC
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0

Stop catcalling me!

By
EIC
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0

[dropcap]C[/dropcap]atcalling is not okay. By that, I mean whistling and shouting unnecessary sexualized comments at people. It also illustrates serious problems in the way people interact with one another, and it’s time to clarify some things.

Catcalling is harassment, and for many women it happens regularly. That leads people, particularly men, to think that we should be fine with it, or just shrug it off.

I know a lot of people justify catcalling with “Well, maybe you were asking for it.” This is simply untrue, and I know that first-hand.

I was at SFU Surrey campus one Tuesday morning. For those of you who don’t know, the campus is inside a mall, and as I walked down the stairs to the food court to pick up a snack, a group of men entered the mall a good distance behind me. They abruptly became very loud and rowdy, and so I walked a little faster, as I had no interest in what they were saying.

Then they started yelling: “You in the jeans, why you walking so fast? Girl, where are you going?” At this point I realized they were talking to me. I looked back, and because they were pleased to get a reaction out of me, they became even louder, spewing more vulgar comments. No one else in the mall said or did anything.

Because they were pleased to get a reaction out of me, they became even louder, spewing more vulgar comments.

Let’s begin with the fact that catcalling makes most women feel highly uncomfortable, especially when those catcalls comefrom a group. It makes many of us feel the need to walk in the other direction, to cross the road, or to just avoid the harasser at all costs. The fact that someone is making vulgar comments to a person they don’t know leaves women in fear of what could possibly happen if they chose to keep walking down a certain path.

A lot of people will just advise you to ignore them. Well, that’s far easier said than done, as this kind of harassment can be very hard to ignore. If someone is yelling at you from across the street with “Hey girl, nice legs! Well, you could at least say ‘thank you’,” how do you expect me to ignore that? I’ve been singled out in front of everyone, and now I’m being expected to accept a ‘compliment’ that I didn’t want in the first place? What is wrong with you?

I don’t need to be told that I look good in my outfit. I know I look good, and that’s why I put it on. I’m not saying that women don’t like to be complimented, but it must be done in the right way. Why can’t you just politely walk up to me and say that I look nice, or just keep it to yourself? I am in no need of your approval.

Why am I forced to think twice before wearing something that may cause unwanted attention? It just makes me and other women feel highly self-conscious. It’s dehumanizing and verbally abusive.

Dear catcallers, please hold your tongue, because I don’t care what you think.

When you buy lecture notes online, you only cheat yourself

By
EIC
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0

[dropcap]T[/dropcap]ruth be told, I get a little protective of my notes when scouring eyes peer over shoulders and onto my personal class materials during lecture. Maybe I’m too uptight and I should ease off my exam mode during regular class time, but I am a firm believer of the phrase “You get out what you put in.”

And this is especially true in the case of taking proper and personal notes during class to help achieve a kick-ass grade at the end of the semester.

A recent article in Australia’s The Age investigated the buying and selling of class notes online, following the success of a University of Melbourne student named Alastair Weng. Weng, who is incredibly talented and organized, also sells his notes to other students online. According to him, this allow him to “[help] students understand some weird concepts” while also bringing in a little bit of income on the side.

To me, buying notes to study just seems like a cop-out, and makes a student who has purchased these notes seem lazy. I get it: life gets in the way, time runs out, and suddenly it’s 3 a.m. and you still have no idea what weeks eight to 11 were about. Essentially, you are cheating the system and paying someone else to do the work that you are supposed to do.

As a self-proclaimed keener, I do make the effort to go to every class and take my own notes, not only because I’m paying $177.39 per credit hour, but also because it is the right thing to do. Instead of wasting time (and money) to seek out notes from others, why not just buckle down, go to class, take some notes, and study them?

With no context of what went on during the lecture that day, it might be hard to put the words on the paper together.

It’s clear that this trend is not unique to Australia. Note-selling has become a hot market in the United Kingdom, the United States, and even here in Canada. There are many websites available to help students sell their lecture notes to desperate students at affordable prices.

A quick search turned up that SFU students are also supplying their own notes on various sites. One website in particular allows students to access a vast wealth of notes from about 90 different SFU programs, with specific notes for courses in those programs.

Having this easy way out perpetuates the idea that we don’t have to work hard because there will always be something to fall back on. But what guarantee is there that the notes someone else took will work for you? With no context of what went on during the lecture that day, it might be hard to put the words on the paper together.

Further still, what if (God forbid) the professor changes their lecture material? That would throw those notes and whatever money you spent on them, down the drain. And even if the notes do work out, how well will you really learn the material when someone else has already done the work for you?

The benefits seem to be far greater for those writing up the notes than those using them to pass. Don’t waste your money by buying notes while also spending money taking classes — sit down, roll up your sleeves, and write some damn good notes that would make your mother proud.

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Simon Fraser University’s independent student newspaper since 1965.

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© The Peak Publications Society

Simon Fraser University’s independent student newspaper since 1965.

For advertising inquiries: [email protected]
For promotional inquiries: [email protected]

© The Peak Publications Society