The Bucknellian

Will Luckey

Columnist

It was the first day of first grade–a pretty big deal in a kid’s life. I got to ride the bus with the older kids, school lasted the whole day, girls started developing sets of adult teeth, and we got to use the big playground at recess. I was feeling really legit with my new pencil case packed tight with fresh number twos and a couple of glue sticks. I was pumped to learn subtraction, get high on paste in art class, run train on four square, and maybe chat up some second grade chicks on the bus ride home.

Well, it did not go down like that. Instead, I threw up all over my desk like a moron. I was sitting right next to Halle, who was a total 10. She looked at me as if I had just thrown a box of puppies off a bridge or something. I ran out of the room but I still had time to hear the entire class dying of laughter. I thought it was complete social suicide. That’s the first memory I have of being truly humiliated. I wanted to run away and never come back, but in the end it wasn’t that bad. Some jerks obviously made jokes the next day, but they were, what, like six years old? That basically meant just calling me “puke-boy” or something. On the whole, people just thought it was funny and moved on.

Fun fact: my first few days at college were also tainted with an oddly similar incident, but I got over that one too.

The trick is to learn to laugh at yourself and take your humiliations gracefully. You just have to acknowledge that everyone does stupid things sometimes and is going to look like an idiot. St. Francis had a theory that everyone needs to experience three daily humiliations as a way of keeping their ego in check.

For example, this morning when I left my dorm, the ground was wet, and I slipped right next to a bunch of football players. Later in class, I spilled my coffee everywhere, and then in the library my headphones came unplugged so everyone in the East Reading Room knew I had been blasting Katy Perry. Whatever, she’s catchy.

By looking out for little moments throughout the day, when you slip up and make a fool of yourself, it becomes much easier to stay grounded. You will realize you’re not all that, but neither is anyone else. More significantly, it becomes much easier to reserve judgment for other people’s humiliations and to actually feel empathy for them. Our society loves to gossip about those who embarrass themselves, but I think if we paid more attention to our own embarrassments it would be harder to mock the shame of others.

Anna Jones

Arts & Life Editor

These are the easiest cookies in the world to make and they taste amazing. They’re also gluten-free, so everyone can enjoy them. This recipe makes about 30 cookies.

1 cup smooth peanut butter

1 cup sugar

1 egg

Chocolate chips

1. Preheat oven to 375 F.

2. Combine smooth peanut butter and sugar in a large bowl and mix well.

3. Stir in one egg and mix well.

4. Roll the mixture into small, bite-size balls and place them on an ungreased cookie sheet.

5. Place a few chocolate chips on each ball and bake them in the oven for seven minutes until they flatten, start to crack, and brown.

6. Let the cookies cool and enjoy!

Andrew Marvin

Contributing Writer

“You’re Next” has been billed as a horror-comedy. I watched it with an open mind, and at no point did I feel that it fell under this category. It is a simple movie with a simple premise: men break into an isolated house and slowly kill off each of its occupants. Much of the movie ventures into rip-off territory. The dramatic beats are telegraphed well in advance, and most of the characters are stereotypes. Within the first five minutes you will know who is good, who is bad, and who will be killed. At first glance, it is entirely unremarkable, but there is a saving grace.

The only thing that distinguishes this movie from all of those other thrillers is the heroine, Erin (Sharni Vinson). As the attackers pick off the occupants, Erin picks off the attackers. When she kills, she does so swiftly and without remorse. Though she seems less human for these acts, it is refreshing to see a protagonist who doesn’t spend the entire movie whimpering in a corner as the killer skulks around. Adam Wingard directs these scenes well, lending every brutality a sense of balletic motion. Vinson will probably find herself catapulted to stardom by this quiet little horror movie. Without an actress as physically involved and naturally charismatic as Vinson, Erin’s character would have failed, and if she had failed, the entire movie would have failed. Unfortunately, one character, no matter how strong, cannot support an entire movie.

In horror, the unknown is often times scarier than the obvious. Without the possibility of surprise there is no tension, and without tension there is no horror. Usually when a supposed thriller takes careful steps to explain the characters and their motives, it ceases to become a horror movie. Home invasion movies are especially devoted to this premise. The characters do not need a reason to do the things they do so long as the end result frightens the audience. Those marked “expendable” will march into dark rooms alone when the plot dictates it, because that is the kind of thing that needs to happen in this type of movie. In contrast, “You’re Next” tries to explain everything, giving every character a back story and motive even when it’s not necessary, making the characters’ urges to throw themselves upon the invaders’ arsenal even more ridiculous.

Surprising the audience is what makes good horror effective, but there’s nothing shocking about this movie aside from how strangely satisfying it is. It fails as a horror-comedy, yet it succeeds as something else, though I am having trouble defining exactly what that is. Perhaps it would fit best under the category of a thriller, but that is a genre so broad that most movies can claim to be one in their own right.

I think that “You’re Next” is an action movie above all else–a small-scale “Die Hard.” Erin, the female equivalent of John McClane, uses her wits to fight through a bunch of intruders with ulterior motives in an attempt to save her loved ones. Like “Die Hard,” I suppose that the point of this movie was to start a fun, exciting franchise with a likable hero. While “You’re Next” stands on its own, I can’t help but feel like the idea of making a movie based solely around the idea of churning out more like it, no matter the quality, is a little cynical. Hopefully when the inevitable sequel is released, this burgeoning franchise will find an identity of its own. How much you enjoy it will depend on what you are looking for. This is not great horror, but it is good action. The question still stands: is good action enough?

Ken Gorab

Presentation Director

“Breaking Bad” never ceases to amaze me. “Ozymandias” is a shining example of a production team and cast at the very top of their game, and even Executive Producer Vince Gilligan stated himself that he considers this to be the best episode of the entire series.

The emotional tour de force begins with a flashback to one of Walter and Jesse’s first times cooking together, their bickering gently pulling on the nostalgic heartstrings of the audience. As Walt calls Skyler to feed her one of his very first lies, we catch a glimpse of the long-lost innocence as he struggles to find the words. With smiles on their faces they plan a vacation, and Jesse pretends to sword-fight in the background. No matter what happens in the coming conclusion, I’d always like to remember the characters like this.

The moment fades into the opening theme, and the reminiscence is bittersweet. As viewers of the previous episode know, Walt and Jesse’s first cook site shares a place with the far more grisly events of the present day, and as the gunshots subside we get our first glimpse of the aftermath. Within the first minute we see Hank wounded and Gomez dead, and as Jack and the rest of his gang move in to kill Hank, Walt desperately pleads that they let him go. We see one outstanding final performance from Dean Norris before he is executed mid-sentence. The audio cuts to silent as Walt falls to the ground, and despite the cloud of desert sand kicked up, the scene leaves the audience feeling ice cold.

It is important to note the excellence in the writers’ use of symbolism in coordination with the episode’s title and theme. “Ozymandias,” a poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley, speaks to the foolish hubris of a once-mighty ruler who, despite his arrogant pride, leaves nothing in his wake but a vast, dead desert. In many ways, Walt is this proverbial king who is witnessing the decay of his empire, loss of the riches he’d gained, and death and alienation of those around him.

As the events in the desert unfold, we are presented with one of the most difficult scenes to watch; Marie forces Skyler to tell Walt Jr. about his father’s arrest and the meth business that led him there. Ordinarily, I am not the biggest fan of RJ Mitte or the character he portrays; I always feel Walt Jr. is an unnecessary distraction from the true story. Seeing the bewildered and hurt expression of a son who idolized his father confirmed the character’s importance to the story. Walt has always lied to and manipulated everybody except his son, and to see Walt Jr. turn against his father was devastating for Walt.

This is particularly evident in one of the most stressful scenes in the series. Skyler and Walt Jr. come home to a frantic Walt, who insists they must pack everything they have and get ready to leave. At this point, Skyler must know something happened to Hank, because he would never let Walt walk free after chasing him for so long. When she realizes that he is dead, she draws a knife and defends herself and her son against Walt, slashing him across the hand as he approaches her. They wrestle with the knife, knocking frames off the wall and furniture aside, all while Walt Jr. desperately begs them to stop. The audience watches in horror, wondering who will accidentally catch the blade. The tension subsides as much as it possibly can in this episode, when Junior calls the police and Walt flees the house, taking Holly with him.

Jesse always gets the short end of the stick. We see him for the first time since Jack’s gang kidnapped him, the slices and bruises of torture marring his face. Jesse is one of my favorite characters, and I think Aaron Paul has been doing a superb job portraying a man who has literally nothing left to live for. Todd takes Jesse to a warehouse where I thought he would kill him, but instead he chains him to an overhead track and forces him to cook meth for Jack, his uncle.

The crowning achievement of this episode is the phone call from Walt to Skyler. Having taken Holly, Walt knew the police would be listening in to the call, which is exactly what he wanted. Speaking like a heartless murderer and stereotypical abusive husband, he makes it known that he cooked meth and killed Hank, all while choking back tears because he knows the end is nearing. It is a truly heartbreaking display of acting by Bryan Cranston that serves as a goodbye to his family while simultaneously absolving Skyler of any involvement in his business. The police are solely after him now, and he breaks down as he destroys his phone.

As the episode ends, Walt leaves Holly in a firehouse, his home address pinned to her shirt, and enters a van with his belongings and the remainder of his money. This was the van that Jesse turned away from, the van that would take him to a new home and a new identity. We know from the flash-forwards that Walt has a New Hampshire driver’s license, and since the next episode is called “Granite State,” we can be assured that’s where he’s heading.

With only two episodes left, Gilligan and his incredible team of writers have little time left to toy with our emotions, but I for one know that I will love every second of it.