USC School of Theatre's
Dramatic Writing MFA Orientation
February 28, 2004 11:00 a.m. — 12:30 p.m.
— Learn about the new Dramatic Writing
program and Theatre's partnership with
USC School of Cinema/Television
— Meet the School's distinguished faculty of
working playwrights and screenwriters
University of Southern California
Davidson Conference Center
(Corner of Jefferson & Figueroa)
Los Angeles, CA 90089-0791
For more information visit our Web site at http://theatre.usc.edu
or contact us at (213)740-1286 or thtrinfo@usc.edu
North Campus
579 E. Broadway
686-1166
South Campus
2870 E. Willamette
686-1600
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at www.dailyemerald.com
Slow Pixies fans
despair at news
of sold-out show
Sundays are often spent dreading
the coming week instead of enjoying
a day away from class and work. This
Sunday was especially trying. All I
could think about was how I didn't
get a ticket for the now-sold-out Pix
ies show at the
McDonald The
atre in April.
The show will
be one of the
band's first
since they broke
up in 1993.
Five years
ago, on a sunny
day in July, I
purchased
"Doolittle," the
album that is probably the group's
best-known and most loved. In high
school, I became so hooked on their
music that I started a fan zine called
"Rock Me Joe," a tide taken from the
lyrics of "Monkey Gone to Heaven."
When the news of a possible re
union first broke last September, it
seemed as though a dream never
thought possible was coming true. As
one rock journalist put it, not since
The Velvet Underground has a band
been so influential to so many musi
cians. The Pixies had an amazing abil
ity to capture the energy of punk rock,
but with a sound that was more com
plex than the traditional three-chord
song structure of most punk music.
The band practically invented the
loud/soft dynamic that is a staple of
rock music today.
Tickets went on sale last Saturday.
The woman at Safeway from whom I
tried to buy one told me the show
sold out in 30 minutes.
But on Sunday I was able to devel
op a multi-pronged, all-invasive, fail
ure-is-not-an-option plan for getting
into that show. The most straight-for
ward method for getting a ticket
would be to buy it from a scalper. But
the $21 tickets are now going for $249
a pair on eBay. And seeing as how I
have to take out an emergency Uni
versity Short-Term Loan to make it
through this term, spending that
much isn t really a choice.
Instead I've come up with some
other tactics for getting through the
door. My first step was to create a Pix
ies shrine. I've decorated a shoe box
with construction paper, glitter and
photos or the
band members,
and at the be
ginning and
end of every
day, until I get a
ticket, I'll light a
couple of can
dles and beg
the rock gods
for a miracle,
lust in case
this doesn t
work, I'm also taking a more active
approach that relies on a ticket holder
getting sick or dying and not being
able to make it to the show, instead
giving the ticket to me. So, if you're
reading this and have a ticket, please
let me know if you get sick. Not only
am I spreading the word through this
column, but I plan on putting an ad
in the paper, making flyers and post
ing them around Eugene and stand
ing outside the McDonald with a
cardboard sign that reads, "Will Work
For Pixies Ticket."
This is the rock 'n' roll experience of a
lifetime. And it's looking as though I
might miss it. It has only been a couple
of days, but already ticketholders are
driving me insane with their bragging. I
am being tom apart just imagining
their tales of the show that are sure to
come for weeks after the performance.
My last resort is to go see the Pixies
when they play at Coachella, the mu
sic festival that takes place about a
week later in Indio, Calif. Also playing
at the music festival is Le Tigre, LCD
Soundsystem, Belle & Sebastian,
Prefuse 73 and The Cure. I'd be able
to see all these other great bands, but
it just wouldn't be the same.
Contact the Pulse columnist at
helenschumacher@dailyemerald.com.
Her opinions do not necessarily
represent those of the Emerald.
Helen Schumacher
Notes from the underground
Generation names
highlight realities
of lasting inaction
At some point, while cutting high
school classes, drinking illegal beers
and realizing we didn't fit in, we were
assigned a letter. We didn't even get to
decide. No one could really cluster us,
no one could condense who we were.
But we were breaking the old rules,
the tired pat
terns. So they
crossed us off
the list with a
big fat X.
Generation X.
Plain, sad and
simple. The first
time I heard that
phrase, I
laughed. I knew
someone would
have that T-shirt
soon. But as soon as I learned of this
new human category, Generation X
was out of style, a new generation was
on its way, and now I had a choice of
which generation to associate with. I
hoped it would have a better name.
Nope. The authors weren't trying so
hard anymore; they just moved up the
me. It really
doesn't matter
anymore. Why
should we even
care about this
labeling? We
didn't get to
vote on the
name. We did
n't choose this.
It was a market
■ ing strategy, de
signed to sell us
crap we don't need. Why should we
participate? It's so trivial.
One moment while I fill your head
with facts before moving on: Genera
tion X is the 45 million people bom
between 1965 and 1976. Generation
Turn to SUNDBERG, page 9
alphabet.
Generation Y, or maybe we should
call it Generation Why, took X's place
and became the new target market. And
what was worse (or better), I didn't be
long to this group any more than I did
to the other. That's when it dawned on
Carl Sundberg
Reasoning with Madness