You are holding The Armadillo- Beloit College’s new alternative journal. We created this publica-tion in response to student apathy, which we have found so prevalent on our campus, and to expose the talented, creative, passionate individuals at the heart of Beloit. It is paramount to us to destroy the overwhelming lack of motivation found on the behalf of many. So however this publication

makes you feel- invigorated, empowered, frustrated, or otherwise- take action.

We are not a substitute for The Round Table. We are only attempting to be able to say the things they can’t, and provide an alternate outlet for student creativity. No matter what format your work takes

send it in, we’ll accept most anything.

Inside this first issue, you’ll find reviews, comics, fiction, poetry, fine art, a nude centerfold (!) and more. Enjoy it. I know we had a great time coming up with it all.

Lovingly,The Armadillo Staff

In memory of Roman.

“I’m sure it wouldn’t interest anybody / Outside of a small circle of friends.” -Phil Ochs

March 24th, 2013 Volume One, Issue One

Season 4 of the NBC comedy Community returned to tele-vision lastmonth after an extended hiatus and mix-up among the cre-ative team. After the third season’s final episode Sony Pictures Televi-sion, the production studio, wasted no time firing Community’s creator Dan Harmon, replacing him with David Guarascio and Moses Port, veteran showrunners of many unremarkable yet successful sitcoms. As a hardcore fan of Community’s first three seasons, the introduction of the new and heavily watered-down episodes has been difficult to watch. Even as invested as I am in the storylines andcharacters, as Albert Ching puts it in Atlantic Monthly, “Watching the new season is effectively endorsing a hostile corporate creative take-over of what many believed to be the cleverest show on network TV.” The first episode of Community’s newest season presents the show in classic sitcom format, complete with a laugh-track. Although this exaggerated version of the show’s creative changes, turning out to be a fantasy inside a character’s mind, seems to be a warning for fans, showing us where this season is headed. Similarly, another episode shows two TV executives in a focus group for a remake of the Com-munity universe’s mock- Dr. Who show, called “Inspector Spacetime”, who pass over a comment that the original is, “smart, complicated and doesn’t talk down to its audience,” for complaints of confusion, eating up a suggestion for, “a hot blond, with long legs and a tennis racket.” It seems that never again will Community present the kind of social commentary like in Season three’s “Digital Exploration”, where a new student represents the corporate personhood of “Sub-way”, the use of Greendale’s air conditioner repair department as anallegory for the economic domination of college athletics over aca-

demics, or simultaneous exploration of religion and art in the me-ta-documentary episode, “Messianic Myths and Ancient Peoples.” The worst part is that Community will not even be allowed to die with dignity and join the ranks of great shows like Arrested Devel-opment, Firefly, and Stella that corporate pressures killed before theirtime. Instead, NBC and Sony are forcing the once brilliant televi-sion show to languish in mediocrity, greedily hoping to crank out enough dry and formulaic episodes to make money off the reruns. So thanks a lot, Capitalism, your desire for money over quality hasdestroyed one more thing that I love, along with sex and democracy.

Thanks Again, Capitalism, for Ruining My Favorite ThingsJackson Morrison

This is an account of a fellow suffering from bizarreness. Marvin Hunter lives in a small city like so many others that dotted the Midwest-ern United States and had lived in the city for all his life, only having left once to visit the Grand Canyon as a boy. He had his picture taken riding a donkey who had bitten him and given him a nasty rash. So nasty that it conditioned him to never again leave the familiarity of his city. Marvin now lived a normal life like most other citizens, going to the work place, mailing the bills and standing in line for coffee. But it was one morning while waiting in line for his coffee that something peculiar happened to him. Standing in front of him was a tall portly woman with a powdered face wearing a red and pink dress coat embellished with peacock feath-ers along with a pair of bright orange rubber boots with three inch heels. Jesus, thought Marvin, you really want attention don’t you you old lardy diva. The woman stiffened up a bit, and turned around to glare at Mar-vin with hated shock. Marvin stared back at her with his own spineless astonishment. “How dare you!” she said bellowing out deep elongated vowels then as she subsequently slapped Marvin in the face. Marvin nearly fell to the floor from the unexpected slap. “Why did you hit me, miss?” said a bewildered Marvin. “No offense sir,” someone spoke from the room, “You did say an awfully rude thing to her, and to say the least, a slap was coming your way.” Marvin spun around the room standing up holding his tender face and stared dumbfounded at no one in particu-lar. He left immediately to buy coffee at another place. Walking on the street Marvin was called a pervert for being attracted to a young women.

This happened to Marvin increasingly over the next few days. He would say something seemingly to himself only to have it heard by someone else. People would insult and berate him when he thought something bad of them. When he thought of something distasteful or all too personal, people would exclaim in disgust. What is wrong with me? Marvin pleaded with himself. “You’re a loudmouth is what’s wrong with you buddy, so shut it!” Marvin walked the streets of his city in droll laps-ing strides. No one needed to read his thoughts to know the he was down in the dumps. “What a downer.” “The poor guy.” “He should keep it to himself.” Marvin came to his last straw in a dingy and lonely diner, and decided to himself: I just can’t live anymore. To his implacable horror, people suddenly began to treat him rather differently. He was approached and implored to that life was good and worth living, and that to end his own life would be a horrible deed. They piped to him the joys of life and so and so. Then suddenly Marvin was dragged from the diner and taken to a mental institution, having been deemed to dangerous to himself. Why am I here? Marvin thought, bounded in a straight jacket inside a padded room. Why should I suffer for everything I think? It’s not fair for others to have to hear what I think! What I think is of no importance!

“We know!” shouted the steward passing by Marvin’s room.

Loudmouth Mark Conway

Summer noons at Mr. B’sConceiving evil, sippingGrey coffee.Hours with a bookAnd red pen,Notating, underliningKantian/Hegelian nonsenseOver and over again.

Summer Noons at Mr. B’sM. Thomas

Hi William Russell Yates,

I am your ex landlady Sevil Batuman in Istanbul flat (you left sud-denly without any notice) I wanted to inform you that you owe me rents according to our agreement with you from 6th of January until 9th of June. You left the flat in February without paying your rents and without any notice, but now i have your email i got it from University, so first i wanted to let you know that i will use my legal rights to get my money from you for making my room stay empty for 4 months until i find someone hardly because it was not the season to find stu-dent, and you did let me know you will leave, also you have contract with me means you have to pay until 9th June. So Turkey is legal country and we have law, my brother uncle aunt they are lawyers, i went to University law professor said you are responsible to pay my loss, he said they will email your school in America about the case. Also he said i should go to the American Consulate here in Istanbul to complain about you this will make your future in Turkey not good to get visa later. I also let your porfessor mom and dad know the case if you are not paying me money for my loss. Your rent was 670 lira per month as you know better.

Regards,Sevil

Hi William Russell Yates,

I am your ex bigtime fan Jan Bohumír from Czech Republic. i wanted to inform you how offensive to print that letter from your (very nice polite Turkish) landlday made me. ‘Ha ha ha’ you are saying because Sevil Batuman does not write to you and use always perfect english as if born in Pella, Iowa cornfield. Well i hope you enjoy all the laugh ha ha but I am truly dissapoint.

You obviously print nice letter from nice landlord in make mocking. Not much senesitive.

What happened to days when funny, American humorist comics understand difference from funny to just plane mean? What happens to Will Smith these days? Tragic state. Landlady sends real letter about real money owed for real abuse by arrogance American student because hardly thinks Turkey legal laws applys only laugh laughs laughs because landlady is not perfect American-bread talker. Alas, gone are the halcyon days of intellectual comedic integrity. Long passed is the short hour of refined American wit; long dead are the golden ages of Twain, of Hemingway, of Dylan. In this World Accord-ing to Cook, in this Tosh Point Blank, in this Mindset of Mencía, what hope has the quiet observer, the understated critic, the wry comic? You are make bigtime full offensive foreign race joke. I can rest assure you are here from my brother uncle aunt they are lawyers and cannot stand up for this. You comedy big suckee suckee never reach happy hunting ground no tickee no laundry me so horny.

Love You Long Time,Jan Bohumír

WRY Letters The Armadillo English Dictonary: Buffet With every issue, The Armadillo hopes to explain the orgins of one word found in the Oxford English Dictionary. This issue, we uncover the American tragedy of the Buffet.

Seemingly innocuous, the French word “buffet” is originally quite clear. It’s a long table, filled with food found at a prom. However, the true story is so much more. In fact, buffet stems from the now-ex-tinct animal buffet (pronounced buff-ett or Trichechus caffer), which roamed the varied terrain of forest and swamp in the American South. The ruminant Buffet, roughly transliterated from the Seminole Indian ‘Puph-itee’, has created an almost unbelievable impact on modern language and American society. They were a large, cumbersome creature, about the size of a bison, with a shaggy coat, and small horns akin to that of a ram’s. French fur trappers first came into contact with the ruminant buffet in the 1710’s, where they realized the value and quality of their incredible pelts. French nobles prided themselves on the acquisition of the prized furs. The true tale of the French buffet- as we know it today- comes from the account of a legionnairre banquet, where ruminant buffet pelts were draped on the banquet table. At the party, a Major inquired towards the drapery, and was incorrectly given the pronunciation buf-fet, with the French accent. This bastardization is what we know today. It’s hard to pinpoint exactly when the ruminant buffet went ex-tinct, and why: some believe that they were overhunted for their pelts and fat—excellent for oil lamps. Others swear that the breeding grounds for the Buffet were destroyed by war and industrialization. Recently, remains first were found at an excavation site in Neshoba County, Mississippi. Someday soon, they will point scientists towards this lost American heri-tage. Here’s hoping that there are still a few secluded Buffets in the Ozarks. So consider THAT when you’re engorging yourself at your all-you-can-eat Chinese food. Or the next time Margaritaville comes on.

William Russell Yates

Thing Grace Smith

Excerpts From the Dream Journal of Grace Smith

The Wicker Man is Classic, Quality HorrorMatt Siebert

1973Running Time: 88 minutesDirected by Robin HardyStarring: Edward Woodward, Christopher LeeMPAA Rating: R

Since this is my first review, I would like to say two things about what I plan to do. I will write reviews of mov-ies that can be found in the Morse Library, so you have easy ac-cess to them. I will also try to choose movies that are relatively un-known or have not been seen by the majority of the student body. Horror is a difficult genre to pull off. I’m not a huge fan of it, but it seems to me that there are three categories that most horror movies fall into: the horror movie that tries so hard to scare the audience with trite violence and cheap thrills that it sacrifices any sort of plot or character development (“Fridaythe 13th”); the horror movie that does have an interesting plot and strong characters, but at the cost of anything truly scary (every Univer-sal Monster movie ever made), and the third category, a movie with a strong plot and characters that actually delivers with realistically scary moments. The last one is by far the most difficult, and the scare rarely comes from a psychopathic killer or monster. It is something complete-ly within the realm of human possibility and doesn’t scare you for a cer-tain period of time and then is forgotten. It’s something that will stick with you, because these movies don’t use mere images to scare you, theyuse ideas, ideas that slowly build in tension throughout the whole movie and then leave you with a horrifying finale that makes all too muchsense both in a movie and a real-life context. “The Wicker Man” falls into this final category. “The Wicker Man” begins with Police Sergeant Howie (Edward Woodward) traveling to the remote island of Summer-isle off the coast of Scotland to investigate the disappearance of Row-an Morrison (Gerry Cowper), a girl who has been missing for several months, the daughter of May Morrison (Irene Sunter). After the beauti-ful shots of the Scottish countryside in the opening credits, the intrigue of this story is almost immediate: no one, on the island, including hermother, seems to believe the girl exists. As his investigation continues, Howie, a devout Christian, discovers the islanders are pagans worshipping ancient Celtic gods. Their religion surrounds all areas of their lives, including school. Howie is appalled by this behavior, insisting on imposing his Christian beliefs on the natives. This religious conflict is the undertone that makes this film so eerie; this is the building of the realistic horror that this movie gives us in the final act. As he slowly sees more and more of the pagan rituals performed and becomes more and more uneasy about his pres-ence in a place where he clearly doesn’t belong. Even if you dislike hisconservative Christian beliefs, you can’t help but feel the tension grow-ing in him from being surrounded by this culture that he hates, fears,and most of all doesn’t understand. His investigation eventually leads him to the man in charge of the island, Lord Summerisle (Christopher Lee), who’s name is such, not only because he is the leader of their community, but because he symbolizes the beliefs of all the Summer-isle residents. Here, at Summerisle’s home, the religious conflict that has been building the entire movie comes to an apex. Both Howie and Summerisle are deeply religious and passionately argue for their opponent’s understanding of their religion. The arguments on both sides are flawed: Howie arguing in the inherent truth in Christianity and Summerisle claiming that it was their gods that allowed them to

grow fruit on the island. You’re never quite sure who, in the scene or the movie, is going to come out on top. This may be the best scene in the entire movie, due mostly to the performances of Woodward and Lee. Woodward who gives, for the most part, a convincing perfor-mance of a Christian in a Pagan world, really comes through in this scene with the stuttering and sweating man in complete shock about his surroundings. Christopher Lee, whose character doesn’t appear un-til this scene, gives an utterly brilliant, and encapsulating performance. Throughout the film, Howie witnesses multiple scenes of pagan rites being performed, including a nighttime orgy and parthe-nogenesis, “reproduction without sexual union.” Pagan folk songs often accompany these scenes and many others, songs that played by themselves would be downright silly, but put into their eerie context make them quite unsettling. From the opening credits to the final twist, that’s exactly what these pagans do: they make you uncomfortable, even though there is little that is evil or menacing about their actions. With the exception of Woodward and Lee, the acting is pretty mediocre, and the production value is even worse. But the thrillingtension that builds minute by minute that never ceases even through the spectacular finale at the May Day Festival, is what makes this such agreat film; the subtlety of the horror that you just don’t see in this genre of cinema anymore that makes it so terrifying. Coming in at only 88 minutes and the mystery almost immediate, “The Wicker Man” is cer-tainly worth a serious viewing, but be aware that the horror it produces will leave you feeling uneasy, a feeling that won’t be soon forgotten.

4.5/ 5

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I was really compelled to spread the news on diaper porn after watching a (pretty hot) video of a grown blonde bouncing up and down wearing nothing but an adult diaper a few years ago. She unstraps the diaper, proceeds to pee on it for an extended period of time, and then plays with herself for the rest of the video. I wanted to find a similar, and relatively hot video for this first issue of The Armadillo, but my first viewing op-tion turned out to be mildly scarring and the exact opposite of what I considered diaper porn to be since watching the bouncing blonde. The video that I chose to watch is called “Babes Ballin Boys in Diapers- Scene 1” and starts out with a lanky adult diaper-wearing male lying on a red couch, suckling at his pacifier, rattling a toy and briskly mov-ing his feet. A heavy-accented and blonde female, who appears to be around the same age, emerges and whips out her left breast for him to feast on. Proceeding to make her first comment: “Oh, you must be very hungry,” she follows up his meal with a splash in a plastic bathing tub. The woman washes his hair and cleans his body, repeating, “This is very good,” while the “baby-boy” groans and imitates a baby’s cry after get-ting soap in his eyes. The female lets him know that she has a surprise for him, and leaves the scene for a moment, only to return with a strap-on. This is the part that really blew my mind—penetration with the strap-on. Initially, because it was drastically different from the scenario I witnessed with the peeing blonde, but mainly because when I went to view other videos on this website, the majority of videos categorized as diaper porn included a female’s usage of the strap-on. Has the strap-on always been associated with diaper porn? Is this where mother and son role-play truly comes to the table? Anyway, this 26:25 long video ends with the male getting finished off as he makes odd non-baby sounds, and then immediately getting a fresh diaper applied to his bottom. I can’t say that I was down with the low-quality acting in this video, (if you’re going to play the role of the star, then dammit, cry and suck the

pacifier like you’re not getting paid to do this!) nor am I into the general idea of mothers babying their sons, allowing them to grow up as dependent pansies. Therefore, I give this video a wetness factor of zero. The bounc-ing blonde and I don’t dismiss diaper porn, though, and encourage read-ers with this fetish to embrace soiling pleasures and explore them further.

Source: pornhub

50% abv ~25.00$

Let’s preface this: your reviewer has a fascination with Appala-chia and everything that comes with it. Seems that the most en-joyable way I could get in touch with my inner mountain man is through Old Smokey Moonshine. I can’t make it so I bought it. OK. On first opening the decrative mason jar, I was as-salted by the pungent bouk of nail polish remover--Someone across the room from me gagged--Sorry ‘bout it. Sippin atfirst was painful. Learning to shut off your nose becomes an intgral skill.Though the more you drink, thbetter it gets. I either got used to it, or it killed all my taste buds. it tases like ht water. Oof. It really catches up wit ya. I dance my haert out. Dont mix. The jar would have been a good keepsake but I smashed it on my way home. Next day was a fucking mess.

Overall score: 7 Banjos.

Old Smokey MoonshineIt’ll do.

Evan Williams

Diaper Porn: Just a Piece of Shit?According to our sources, yes. Aleks Pavlovic

We shit you not. Pictured here: A grown man acting like a baby.

somewhere between dreaming and waking,my hands find your sleeping skin.bodies warm like the sunlight floodingthe room with peach and yellow.birds chirp urgently but time is irrelevant. take it slow, turn, curl, stretch, rise and fall,breathe you in, breathe me out.lazy honey on my lips, cinnamon tongue,this morning sweetly lingeringlike tea sipped slowly. when drowsy sensations fade into focusmy eyes take long exposure photographsto capture the glowing tracers left by your sparkler eyes.then your voice pours over my body,and the soulful melody makes my ears smile. there’s a lot of beauty in the world,but in this moment I can honestly saythere is no place on earth I would rather be.

Prelude to BrunchDena Winter

Horoscopes or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Captcha

Aries Mar. 21-Apr. 20 Taurus Apr. 21-May 21 Gemini May 22-Jun. 22 Cancer Jun. 22-Jul. 22

Leo Jul. 23-Aug. 22 Virgo Aug. 23-Sept. 23 Libra Sept. 24-Oct. 23 Scorpio Oct. 24-Nov. 22

Sagittarius Nov. 23-Dec. 21 Capricorn Dec. 22-Jan. 20 Aquarius Jan. 21-Feb. 19 Pisces Feb. 20-Mar. 20

Epiphany Compton

Babies Dream Forever Harry Kuttner