Volume 16 Issue 2
Erik Beserra
Lockdowniversary

A year ago I stared at the numbers rising on the New York Times website. Every day I found myself feeling more inept as 10,000 became 20,000 became 40,000 became 80,000. I stared at the numbers like a moth at lights. Inept and discouraged. I still feel inept. I now have a tab with the New York Times vaccine distribution map. It is weird staring at this good news. Some part of me doesn’t feel hopeful since this is just what needs to be done. We failed and are now picking up the pieces.

Lockdowniversary
Volume 15 Issue 3
Lauren Mondroski
Dying to Get Outside? A Grave History of Hiking ...

This was before the establishment of large public parks, meaning that if you were a Victorian-era urban American, you most likely spent your time outdoors strolling and picnicking with family, friends, and lovers, all amidst the dead.

Dying to Get Outside? A Grave History of Hiking and Cemeteries
Volume 15 Issue 2
Allison Wallace
A list of good: a good list to make

· Arriving
· The first song you listen to through headphones
· When a good bakery has good tea (the complete experience)
· The crisp, blue outlines of the hills here in Western Oregon

A list of good: a good list to make
Volume 15 Issue 2
Nerissa Wright
Seek Discomfort

Portland is a peculiar white haven, and I come from a melting pot that smells like urine year-round. Both are good, but very different.

Seek Discomfort
Volume 14 Issue 1
Lauren Mondroski
Spoiler Alert: There Is No Coming of Age

Released on August 25, 2020, Haley Blais’ Below the Salt is an album I wish I had during my first year of college. Coincidentally, that’s when I first started listening to Blais, a Vancouver-based singer-songwriter and vlogger whose wacky sense of humor and DIY bedroom-pop bangers resonated with me, a freshman living on her own for the very first time and trying to make sense of the world and herself. That unsure first-year is a senior now, but no less unsure, and I think that’s the point of Blais’ debut album: her label writes, “Below the Salt is a coming of age story that recognizes that there is no real ‘coming of age.’”

Spoiler Alert: There Is No Coming of Age

The Complete History of Renn Fayre Part II: 1978-1990

The Complete History of Renn Fayre Part II: 1978-1990

Renn Fayre is big. Despite the fact that it’s a celebration of our pointy-headed intellectualism and our deviant lifestyles, it’s undeniably big and extravagant, and — dare I say it? — even quintessentially American in its celebration of excess. That bigness dates back to the ’80s, of course, when everything was big and America was booming. In the second decade of Renn Fayre’s existence it expanded in scope, scale and debauchery, attracting new degrees of local notoriety, to the point where RF1990 as captured on film is very recognizable today. It was the ’70s that gave us Renn Fayre, but it was the Eighties that got us to where we are now.

The Complete History of Renn Fayre Part 1: 1967-77 "High Medieval to Huge Party"

The Complete History of Renn Fayre Part 1: 1967-77 "High Medieval to Huge Party"

Sure, it makes sense for us to end the year with a brilliant celebration of our hard work and our mutual love that also serves as an ultimate expression of the freedom we have created for ourselves through our diligence and honor. But cataclysmic catharses don’t just happen because they make sense.

    Any of you who have put in time working for the student body will recognize the way Reed traditions grow and survive; original flashes of inspiration are brought to reality by collective effort and then passed down to the next generation; who expand upon them and toil to keep them alive in a sort of simultaneous preservation, resuscitation and evolution.

    This article, the first in a series, explores the beginning of that process. During its first decade, Linda Howard’s wholesome Renaissance Faire was built upon (and gradually diluted) by more and more of the recognizable components of today’s Renn Fayre. We’ve chosen 1977, the year of the first Renn Fayre Quest and the first softball tournament, as a cutoff for this edition, but that’s somewhat arbitrary. Like everything at Reed, Renn Fayre has been cumulative;  each year, everyone builds upon last year’s efforts. That means what you do this year might just shape its next forty-eight iterations.

Five Thesis Shows

Five Thesis Shows

Through Sunday the Festival of New Works is presenting five performance theses created by Reed seniors. Brianna Walker’s piece, “Looking for Leon”, opens the Festival by leading audience members from the second floor of the Performing Arts Building to the first. This floor-to-floor movement occurs throughout the festival as most of the performances are split up by their acts, the first act of one play being followed by the first act of another play before a return to the second act of the first play. This shifting back and forth between plays keeps up the pace of the festival. Five productions in one sitting might be too much to handle if there weren’t these moments of moving between floors and cliffhangers between acts of the productions.

Paradox Regained

Paradox Regained

While the brick-and-mortar institution known as the Paradox seems to have existed since the dawn of time, the history of coffee shops on campus is much stranger than the history books (or in this case student body handbooks) would lead one to believe. To understand that fateful eve, in the summer of ’83, when the idea of the Paradox Café was hatched, one must dig deep into the annals of Reed.

East Portland Coffee Roasters: 79th and Division

East Portland Coffee Roasters: 79th and Division

The most striking thing about East Portland Coffee Roasters is the unusual humidity.  A bubbling fountain in the middle of the shop keeps the windows perpetually foggy, especially during the cold Portland winters. It makes me a little concerned for my laptop, but in reality it is no more humid than any coffee shop one would find 1,000 miles closer to the equator. Adorned with mythical sirens, the gentle stream of water from the fountain can be pleasing, but at times clashes with the slightly-too-loud music playing in the background.

Love, Trust & Hope

Love, Trust & Hope

When you walk through the doors of p:ear on NW 6th Avenue in downtown Portland, it feels like coming home. I’m not sure if it’s the particular quality of light that seems to filter through the floor to ceiling windows, or how that light plays on the solid and well-worn wooden tables that seem to be begging to host a conversation over a plate of warm food. It might be the art that covers the walls in various stages of completion, or the familiar clutter of paper that fills in all the empty spaces. None of these aspects within themselves define a home, but for the kids who come to p:ear, they all serve as tokens for a space that offers up a unique and fierce brand of love that can be difficult to come by.

Ecce Bromo; or, Some Thoughts on Public Mismemory

Ecce Bromo; or, Some Thoughts on Public Mismemory

“You heard about that, right? Back in the ’60s, a Reedie invented bromo-mescaline right over there in the Chem building.”

If you know any older alumni, especially from before the Internet era, you might’ve had that sentence thrown at you in casual conversation. They’re trying to pass on a legend that hasn’t had currency around these parts for a long time. Don’t believe them — but listen anyway. Legends are lessons, and the story of “bromo-mescaline” is a perfect primer in Reedies’ self-image through the ages.

Eliot's One-Day Occupation

Eliot's One-Day Occupation

Crimson flags adorned the third floor of Eliot on Tuesday, November 10. From noon to five, students from various activist groups gathered in President Kroger’s office to demonstrate, converse, and workshop activism. A coalition of student activists representing the Reed Socialist Alternative, Blue Heron, DiversIfY, Fossil Free Reed, and Students for Sensible Drug Policy gathered in the office to workshop.

Radical Puppets! Bread and Puppet Performs "Fire" at Reed

Radical Puppets! Bread and Puppet Performs "Fire" at Reed

In 1965, Bread and Puppet was two years old. It grew from founder Peter Schumann’s trailer-converted puppet-stage and street corner performances into an ensemble that was actively participating in protests of the Vietnam War, parading colossal ten to fifteen feet tall puppets through the streets of New York City. They also created a show intended for smaller spaces and more intimate performances entitled Fire, which is an hour long performance dedicated to several Americans who protested the Vietnam war by self-immolating, killing themselves by setting themselves on fire. The play, with the original masks from 1965, was performed at Reed from October 16–18.

In Our Backyard

In Our Backyard

    My adventures in Portland usually include wandering around downtown, mostly lost, hoping my phone doesn’t die before I can GPS my way back to Reed. The walk I took three weekends ago was no different. Myself and two friends decided, at around ten at night, to take a stroll down to Portland State University, PSU. This happened to be the same night as the vigil for the students who passed away from the Umpqua shooting earlier that week. Thirty or so Reedies had gathered in front of Commons with a wide assortment of candles, from tea lights in plastic cups to the heavy candles in glass holders. A Reed alumnus spoke, and then the floor was left open for anyone to speak. After that, we sang together. Understandably, it was a decidedly somber night. I guess we didn’t really know where to go from there, so we decided to walk.

On Blogging

On Blogging

One thousand is an interesting number.  It’s the smallest big number, with the first inkling of unassailability peeking behind its comma, just look at it: 1,000.

 

At least that’s what senior anthropology major James Curry IV has led me to think, and if there is one thing a conversation with Curry is, it’s thought provoking. Last week, I had the opportunity to sit down with Curry and discuss one particularly intriguing project that is underway. He is currently in the process of writing a book titled On Blogging, which is to be comprised of 1,000 posts, uploaded daily to his blog. All of the posts will be focused on the subject of blogging.  As of today, he is on post 328, and is set to finish by the time he is 23. While scrolling through what currently constitutes the work, the presence of that numerical comma, that bigness, can be found everywhere. From a reader’s standpoint, it is not so much the experience of getting lost in the text, as the sensation that you were never really found in the first place. Each and every post is a jumping point, a catalyst for a collision of ideas, arguments, and intellectual evolutions. While reading On Blogging, it is impossible to keep the idea of the blogger out of mind for long. At times, it seems like the project belongs to 1,000 individual entities rather than one singular narrator.

 

Commons Cookbook

Commons Cookbook

Scouring the internet (or, more likely, casually browsing your Facebook newsfeed), one occasionally stumbles across some documents of critical importance. These top secret missives, protected and monitored by the U.S. government, no doubt, divulge information hidden in plain sight. . .information that changes the way our entire society functions. When one guides the mouse over the link to “Chipotle Secret Menu, Check Out #4, It’s CRAZY,” inhales a nervous, shuddering breath, and presses a finger into the warm metal of the mouse pad, there is no telling what will be found. Quessarillodillas, burritochangas, double meat for half the price, glory to the Lord! Unlocking secrets such as these does more than give you all of the powers awarded to the guy with the ring in Lord of the Rings (never seen it, oops), it is a password that lets you into the Chipotle club. And if I know anything about secret clubs, it is that they are amazing. So, without any further ado, allow The Grail to let you into the secret club of Commons, our very own, on-campus Chipotle equivalent.*

SEEDS of Change

SEEDS of Change

Our SEEDs adventure consisted mainly of eating organic food. We also got on a school bus and drove an hour out of Portland to meet local farmer Charlie Harris. Charlie owns and operates Flamingo Ridge Farm, where he grows tomatoes and romaine lettuce. When Charlie says that Flamingo Ridge is a “family farm,” he means it. Every worker is on a first name basis. They sit around on hammocks and share sodas specially made by a close friend of Charlie’s. Everything on the farm is homemade and friendly.

Tree People

Tree People

Early in the week of September 14, 2015, an exciting story burst into view within the Reed College bubble. This tale of intrigue was replete with all elements of newsworthiness: a villainous corporation, hungry for money at the expense of the community, heroic neighbors prepared to face dire consequences in order to stand up for what is right, and a clock ticking on impending doom, in the form of a wood chipper poised outside of a lot on 36th and Martins.