12

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Cover art by Lin Hiu Cho and Bonnie Wan.Generation Magazine is owned by Sub-Board I, Inc., the student service corporation at the State University of New York at Buffalo. The Sub-Board I, Inc. Board of Directors grants editorial autonomy to the edito-rial board of Generation. Sub-Board I, Inc. (the publisher) provides funding through mandatory student activity fees and is in no way responsible for the editorial content, editorial structure or editorial policy of the magazine.

don’t write us angry emails for any material found in this issue. We assure you, this is simply a joke and all in good fun. Enjoy!

Generation Magazine - April 10, 2012

05 | Editor’s LetterYou’ll see.

07 | AgendaPonies on campus and Lady Gaga in space!

| Hit or BullshitKim Jong-Il is alive and UB’s mascot is dead.

08 | My Feminine Brunch with Bobby DeNiroClaire Brown nabs an exclusive interview with actor Robert DeNiro.

10 | SA Coup De Tat Rocks UBAlly Balcerzak’s shocking exposé on SA corruption.

12 | Rumer has It and So Do IErin Willis spills the beans on her famous dad (yeah, that Willis).

14 | My Day as KatnissAlly’s spectacular Hollywood adventure.

16 | Mac InitiativeCatie Prendergast on UB’s new computers.

17 | PERSONALSThey’re baaaaaaack! Also, chode.

18 | Caught WeepingErin covers The Onion’s tearful demise.

19 | Tales of a Marijuana AddictA short story by Josh Newman.

20 | The (Completely True) Secret of my FamilyA short story by Carlton Brock.

21 | The Catcher in the Rye: RevisitedA book review by Claire.

22 | Regarding What to Do With Our VegetableA poetic exercise by Jamie Pittman.

23 | Parting ShotsCatie is moving on to bigger and better things and the other writer is sleepy.

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Submit your letters and articles at ubgeneration.com, or e-mail us at ubgeneration@gmail.com.

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HR 6263, which decrees that all student loan debt, public or private, is hereby forgiven. No more interest, no more monthly payments. We’re all home free, and now have an excuse to stay in school for years (nay, decades) to come.

-rean sources have provided photographs of the purportedly dead ruler sunbathing on the island of Tahiti. Sources say that they were momentarily blinded by the awesome whiteness of Kim’s voluminous backside.

-nounced she was joining the race to be the Re-publican Presidential Nominee. Within a week of her announcement, all delegates that could le-gally pledge to her had hopped on board. As for those that are tied by their state’s Primary rules,

those rules. Sarah Palin now has so many delegates that not even Rom-ney can catch up, thus putting her against Obama this November.

Here at Generation, we love kittens. In fact, we love anything furry and cuddly, including Bo-rat’s legs. But we do not support UB changing our mascot to a kitten. For one, how is a kitten intimidating? Nothing that curls up in your lap and purrs is scary. Is the Athletics department hoping to distract the competition with her cuteness since nothing else seems to be working for the

written all over it.

Researchers at the University of Michigan, af-ter several successes reanimating the tissue of 10,000 year-old wooly mammoths, have an-nounced plans to bring Ronald Reagan back to

off,” announced head scientist, Dr. Steve Endleman, “and there’s no one the people of the world would rather see reanimated.”

Beyonce and Jay Z have admitted publicly that their beautiful baby girl, Blue Ivy Carter, doesn’t actually exist. “It was just a hoax,” the couple said, “we just wanted the attention.”

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MOVIE | AVATAR 5D | SUMMER 2013Forget Titanic. That movie’s for saps anyway and who needs 3D when you have 5D? James Cameron announced at a press conference early last week that he was working on re-releasing Avatar in 5D. What is 5D, you ask? Well, it includes all of that 3D nonsense, adds in some scratch ‘n sniff cards to be used at certain points of the movie, and allows theaters to charge 5X the normal amount for a ticket. This movie experience is not for the faint of heart - someone in the audience will also be asked to participate in the movie through virtual reality systems that are being developed as you read this.

!"!#$%&%'()*%+,,%+,%!"!-.$/0#12%345!%&%1455!-04%6455%+7$%0#%8/!!9$+:414%;+-%:/!-!"!-<The entire mall! Sale starts Wednesday, April 11th at 11:59am and ends at noon.

s !"!#$%&%,-!!%=+#.%-0>!3%$+%.+7-%85433!3%&%4=-05%?)As part of the University’s gift to the Class of 2012, Student Life is offering free pony rides to and from your classes on Monday, April 30. The move comes after a petition with 100,000

Ponies poop, too.

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sFOOD | MCDONALD’S TO OFFER REAL FOODIn a stunning announcement at the beginning of April, the multinational fast food conglomerate said that it would be putting real food on the menu starting at the beginning of next year. The move was inspired by the “pink slime” incident that embarrassed everyone from the FDA to grocers. #whathaveibeeneating #thanksforyourconcern #overonebillionpoisoned

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-test entrants must be cats. Enter your own fancy feline friend by sending a picture, a current resume, and three references to GaGaSpaceCats@yahoo.com.

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Okay, so Buffalo isn’t exactly famous for its status as a celebrity getaway, and residents rarely brag about their frequent celebrity encounters. Sure, sometimes movies get made

here, but they’re usually about what it’s like to live in a dying industrial city, crime, family isola-tion, or in the case of Bruce Almighty, a televi-sion newscaster becoming God. So I’ll forgive you if you don’t immediately believe my story. However, as a lifelong resident of The Queen City, I do know one thing: rumors about celebri-ty meetings do tend to be true. I am living proof of that.

A lot of people wonder what he’s really like in person. Is he insane and unapproachable like Travis Bickle in Taxi Driver? Is he murderous and unapproachable (but with a sense of humor) like Paul Vitti in Analyze This? Is he cold and unap-proachable (with no sense of humor) like Jack Byrnes in Meet The Parents? I’m here to tell you: he’s nothing like any of those characters, although he does bear a strong resemblance to the gay pirate king in Stardustto laugh, with an impeccable taste for fashion and a nose for cologne. He also makes a mean mimosa

About an hour south of the Buffalo is the charm-ing town of Chautauqua, home to the Chau-tauqua Institute, with its staggeringly expen-sive lakeside homes and bucolic scenery. Rich people live and summer here, that’s an estab-lished fact. What’s a little less well known is that Robert DeNiro, the Raging Bull himself, owns a lavish but isolated cottage right by the lake in Chautauqua.

Recently, Generation received an anonymous tip that Robert DeNiro was in the Western New York area, taking a much-needed vacation from his fast-paced life the TriBeCa area of NYC.

would be spending the weekend at his home away from home in Chatauqua. I am nothing if not a super sleuth, so I decided to investigate. I packed an overnight bag containing only my fanciest clothes and drove down there, hoping to catch a glimpse of Bobby.

Having successfully charmed my way through the gates of the resort (it’s depressing and sur-prising what a few ten-dollar bills will get you when you bribe minimum-wage workers during

a recession), I quickly stole the cutest bicycle

she was really going to use it anyway) and did a quick lap of the streets surrounding the lake. I pedaled slowly and carefully, peering into hous-es and porches, searching for that telltale birth-mark and signature sneer. It was about eleven o’clock in the morning on a Saturday, and I was starting to crave my weekly Bloody Mary and Eggs Benedict; I should have packed a picnic basket to take with me.

I was just about to give up and head to my car when I saw him: dressed to the nines in a gray wool three-piece suit, strolling along with four

tangle of leashes, smoking a cigar so odorous I smelled it from a hundred yards away. Rob-

and began to limp towards him, faking a daintily sprained ankle, adding in a small whimper with

-ure, go big or go home.

Ever the gentleman, DeNiro rushed right over to me. “Are you alright?” he asked as he whisked me off my feet and tossed me over his shoulder without waiting for my response. (Bro tip: if you really want to leave a lasting positive impression on a lady, just grab her by the waist and pick her up like a sack of groceries. Ladies love that.) “I think I have some Icy Hot and fresh-squeezed orange juice at my cabin,” he intoned to me, his Yorkie puppies running behind us, yipping and yapping. Since I was slung over his shoulder, I couldn’t quite see where we were going, but I did get a good look at his posterior. (It’s okay. Nothing to write home about.) When we arrived, he gently let me down and led me through the front door of his precious cottage: white with pink trim, with little ceramic angels adorning the front steps. Beside the screen door was a needlepoint sign reading, “You talking to me? Well, come on in and discuss it with me over

bunnies. (The lettering alone must have taken him months.)

We made some small talk; he complimented my shoes, I complimented his dogs. Whenever I made a joke, he would giggle, sounding more and more like a tweeny bopper as the minutes passed. “Make yourself at home,” he said as he made his way to his kitchenette. “Are you hun-gry?”

debate about how I’d like my eggs prepared, Bobby got started, whipping up a fantastic brunch of eggs, toast, assorted fruit salad, and mimosas.

The meal was delicious, and so was the conver-sation. I let him know early on that I wanted to write a story about him, so consider the follow-

On being type-cast as criminal, mean, or stoic: “OMG. That is SO not how I usually roll. I mean, if someone were cast to play me in the movie about my life, they’d be playing fetch with Mim-sey and Princess Precious [his Yorkies] all the time, DVRing Modern Family, and reading as many Jodi Picoult novels as humanly possible! Have some more cantaloupe!”

After being asked what his favorite role is: “Oh, that is such a tough question. I think my best work was in my high school production of My Fair Lady. It was an all-boys school, so I played Eliza Doolittle. That cockney accent was the tri-umph of my career!” At this point, Bobby spoke in a cockney accent for the next ten minutes; I’ll spare you the particulars.

His favorite co-star: “I just loved working with Barbra [Streisand] on Meet The Fockers. I don’t know why it took us so long to do a project to-

love stretch pants, perms, and getting drunk and singing along to the Yentl soundtrack! She is such a gem, and don’t believe a word she says about her rhinoplasty!”

We chatted and got drunk for the next two hours. He gave me the best French tip manicure I’ve ever had in my life, and I offered to dog-sit his puppies if he ever needed some time for himself. Unfortunately, our time was cut short after a phone call from his agent (I overheard Bobby’s side of the conversation: something to do with ballet lessons and collapsed arches?), and I left his cottage around 3 in the afternoon, with a new gal pal and leftover fruit salad.

If you visit Chautauqua this summer, see if you

for the ceramic angels. If you feign a sprained ankle, Robert DeNiro might just appear and res-cue you…and treat you to some gossip, good food, and deceptively strong mimosas.

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Something I get asked a lot is whether or not I’m the daughter of

look at me like I’m full of it. Just because I don’t have a “quirky” (ahem, weird) name like my sisters (Rumer isn’t even spelled right, damnit!), just because my dad doesn’t like me to be seen in public

doesn’t mean it’s not true. There are reasons for his protectiveness. As a baby, I had an extreme allergic

would water, so dad decided that it was best that he never take me out in pub-lic. He’s kind of famous, I guess, so he didn’t want all of those paparazzi caus-ing the most extreme and bizarre allergic reactions. As I grew up and grew out of my allergy, everyone in the family agreed that it would be weird if there was suddenly a fourth Willis daughter just showing up to premieres, public luncheons, and press conferences. Dad wasn’t sure how to tell the press that he had managed to keep me a secret for twelve years, and didn’t want to give them a reason for making up for twelve years of lost photographs. Mom (yes,

concerned for my health than fame. Just because I didn’t step out in the spotlight with my family doesn’t mean that I missed out on much, though. There have been many secret vacations, quiet holidays, and nightly dinners that have made my life as a Willis really great. A lot of our family vacations revolved around action and adventure:

Die Hard 2wing of a moving airplane? Our family vacation to Norway in 1998 was spent re-enacting that scene. Remember the moment in The Sixth Sense when Dr. Crowe realizes that he’s been a ghost? We spent our entire 1999 vacation to Honolulu discussing the meaning of that scene. What’s it like being the daughter to an international BAMF? Well, Dad and I spend a lot of time talking about how coolon The Tonight Show with David Letterman. We also talk about the fact that everyone asks me about him but no one believes what I say. He thinks it’s for the best, and always reminds me it’s a little reckless to be so sarcastic and honest, considering the paparazzi could be anywhere at any time. Then I remind him I live in Buffalo, and he stops being so paranoid. Not that Buffalo

here. There have been a few scares with the paparazzi recently. We think that Ash-ton may have let slip that I exist, because there suddenly seems to be a lot of pictures with me in them. I handed those pictures over to Generation, and they can be seen on page 12. One thing people may not know about my dad, though, is his love of collect-ing glass dolls. Three rooms in our L.A. home are devoted to his collection, and he actually commissioned an artist to paint our family as a glass doll col-lection. Last Christmas, dad really outdid himself, though: he gave each of his

little silly. While a lot of fans of my dad’s movies may think that collecting glass dolls is only for “pussies,” know this: he could easily turn one of his glass dolls into a method for pain, so I wouldn’t cross him about his collection. Also, he has a small collection of brass knuckles that could do serious damage to your face. I like to think that his love for glass dolls is a testament to his manliness: only a really badass would be awesome enough to star in Die Hardtrailer with wide-eyed, porcelain dolls. Remember this: having Bruce Willis as a father means that he can easily Yip-pee-Ki-Yay anyone who dares to mess with the Willis family.

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Photo from the New York Observer

By now it is safe to say that The Hunger Games is one of the most popular movies of all time. It oblit-erated records by making an estimated $152 mil-lion in its opening weekend alone, and has contin-

books have found little to complain about in the movie adaptation, and the estimated release date for the sequel has already been announced (No-vember 22, 2013, in case you were wondering). Midnight showings sold out weeks in advance across the country, with theatres adding extra au-

ditoriums up to the last minute to accommodate fans. I was one of those diehard fans who lined up for the midnight showing at 9:30 just to get a good seat, but I had a better reason than most.

The Hunger Games, on a whim I auditioned for the lead role: Katniss Everdeen. I had originally done it for fun, only go-ing because I happened to be in Los Angeles dur-

-dio to read for the part, I looked out of place. All

around me were girls my age with acting resumes three pages long and professional headshots they had paid $500 for. As we sat outside the audition room with the scene we were supposed to read, my anxiety grew, and I seriously considered leav-ing. Eventually the girl sitting next to me tried mak-ing conversation, “So what was your last gig?” “What? Oh, um, I’ve never acted before.” “How’d you get an audition then?”

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“I saw a thing posted on the street yesterday,” I replied shakily. “There was a number so I called it and they said to be here at noon.” The girl didn’t bother responding after that. I hadn’t even read for the producers yet and already it seemed futile. Luckily a few moments later I was called in. As I walked in the room and saw the producers sitting at a table I could feel my heart begin to race. “Be-gin when you’re ready,” said the producer farthest left. All I could think about was how badly I wanted to run out of that room, but I managed to keep my

I took a deep breath, looked down at the crumpled piece of paper in my hand one last time, and be-gan to read. It was a short scene, the one in the beginning of the movie when Katniss and Gale are in the woods. They had me reading with a scrawny

-rious undertone the scene needed. When it end-ed, no one said anything. Immediately I regretted walking into the audition. “Thank you for your con-sideration,” I said before taking a deep bow and rushing out of the room. I walked out of the building as quickly as I could, knowing I was making a fool of myself. Once I got outside, I headed across the street to grab an iced tea for my walk back to the hotel. By the time I got back to my room, I had gotten over how badly the audition had gone and was eager to make plans for the next day. But as I sat down on the bed with my tour book, my phone rang. “Hello?” I said, un-sure why a California number was calling. “Allison Balcerzak?” The voice asked. “Yes, this is Ally.” “We’d like you to come in for a second audition tomorrow,” said the voice. “Please be at the stu-dio at ten in the morning. Wear work out clothes.” “Ok. Cool.” The line went dead before I could even decide if I had any questions. Why on earth would they want us to wear workout clothes for

the answer to my question and instead waited for my cousin to get back so we could grab dinner. It

clothing choice anyway, at least I’d be comfort-able. The next day I was up and out the door by 9:20. When I arrived at the studio, they took me and four other girls out back to a wooded area where tents had been set up. Day two apparently consisted of a full-blown workout instead of just standing in a room with the script in front of us. Director Gary Ross soon came over to explain what was going on. “I don’t care how well you can act. If you look ridiculous running through the woods, you are not my Katniss.”

-

fer Lawrence), looking at the obstacle course Gary and staff had created for the day. I swear it looked

too. Even though we had been told to wear work out gear and sneakers to the audition, the only ones who looked ready to run were Jennifer and me. The other three girls had shown up in yoga pants, tank tops, and tennis shoes, while Jennifer and I were in loose athletic shorts, t-shirts, and hard-core trail running sneakers.

Gary lined us all up at the start of the course and said, “You’ll run it twice. Once to get the feel, and then we’re timing you the second go. Any ques-tions?” The three improperly dressed, “yoga girls”

horn blew, signaling the start of the race, and off we went. The “yoga girls” quickly wound up in the back, barely being able to run over the hilly ground in their tennis shoes, while Jennifer and I were neck and neck until we hit the monkey bars. Her long legs gave her an edge and she was able

frame would allow me to. I caught up during the downhill roll, using my lack of height to my ad-vantage in avoiding rocks and branches that had been scattered on the hill.

When we hit the bottom, Gary was waiting, a smirk on his face as he watched us get up while the “yoga girls” were nowhere in sight. By the time they showed up, Jennifer and I were fully rested and sitting under a tent talking to the producers.

“Nice job ladies. Ally, Jennifer, please head back to the starting line so we can time you. As for the rest, we appreciate you coming out but you are not my Katniss.”

I didn’t bother looking at the “yoga girls” to see their reactions to the news. Instead I was more focused on the fact that only one girl stood be-tween me and the part. I knew the odds weren’t in my favor when it came to the acting. Jennifer had done quite a few movies, including playing Raven in X-Men: First Class, while my acting career had

grade. But when it came to athleticism, we were evenly matched. So the one thing I had going for me was that since I had no acting experience, the producers could mold me into whatever they wanted.

Jennifer and I lined up at the start, eyes forward, not saying a word to one another. My heart began to beat faster, I could feel the extra blood rushing through my veins, and I placed my feet so I’d get a faster start when the horn blew. Gary counted it down, “Three… two… one… GO!” Never in my life have I run so fast. I sprinted through the tires, never tripping. I hit the climbing wall quicker than

-ily than I expected my shoulders to allow. My fear of heights didn’t even kick in as I began to repel down the other side of the wall.

The adrenaline was coursing through my system at full speed as I dove into the mud to army crawl under the barbed wire. It was in the mud that I realized I had pulled ahead of Jennifer. All I had to do was keep the pace up and I’d beat her. The monkey bars didn’t trip me up the second time, and I rolled down the hill so fast I was dizzy when I got to the bottom. As I stood up from the roll I saw two sets of bows and arrows waiting, with a target

I ran for the bows, grabbed an arrow, and silently thanked my high school gym teacher for teaching me how to shoot in gym class. I raised the bow, and was pulling the arrow back to use my chin as an anchor when Jennifer came up next to me. I lined up the shot, took a deep breath, and re-leased the arrow.

It missed. Instead of hitting the bullseye like I had thought I lined up, it completely missed the target, hitting a tree off to the right side. Trying to shake off the last of my dizziness from the roll, I grabbed a second arrow and began to set it up. But it was

just to the left of the bullseye. I didn’t bother tak-ing another shot, instead I put the arrow back in its quiver, placed the bow on the ground, and turned to her, hand extended. “Congratulations,” I said as we shook hands, “I’m sure you’ll make a great Katniss.”

We dropped our hands as Gary came up clapping. “Amazing! Absolutely amazing,” he said. “Both of you could survive the Hunger Games. Ally, thank you so much for coming out. Really. Jennifer, con-gratulations.” He shook both our hands quickly then ran off to talk with the producers.

Jennifer and I made our way over to the water tent, hoping to escape the L.A. sun and rehydrate. After a bottle of water and a few “we were rooting for you” comments from staff, I grabbed by bag

-ing my shoe when Jennifer walked over, offering a hand to help me up. “For the record, you’ve got some skills. You should read for a different roll. It’d

-ing.”

“Thanks. But I think I’m just gonna head back to -

ger fan of writing anyway.”

“Fair enough. But you’ve got to make me a prom-ise,” she said, a smile appearing her lips.

“Okay?” I replied skeptically.

“Write a book with a character I can play when it becomes a movie.”

“Okay,” I said, unable to hold in my laugh, “Deal.”

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section from our old issues. Send us your personals at ubuffalopersonals@gmail.com. Don’t worry about the content - you can write anything.

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The Onion announced last Thurs-day that it

was being forced to shut down for claims of copyright

infringement, libel, and slander. The fa-

mous internet jester says that, in the past few

months, they’ve been put “through the ringer,” be-

cause of a civil suit that com-bines celebrities, media com-

panies, and food conglomerates. Those suing claim that the satiric news

company has performed a number of high-profile grievances, including being linked to the

decreasing popularity of the layered vegetable that the company is named after.

Richard Vidalia, the lead attorney through the prosecu-tion, released a statement from his clients last Thursday, which claimed, “After years of refusing to take respon-sibility for the charges against it, The Onion is finally reaping the consequences for its actions. For years, a number of my clients have had to live with the costs of false stories and blatant wrongdoing. The day has finally come to make The Onion weep.”

Among Vidalia’s clients are the Bratz Dolls, who were the butt of a 2009 Onion prank, which made fun of the girls’ head size. The girls, who are claiming that The Onion’s false news piece resulted in hate crimes, are asking for more than a billion dollars in damages. The Bratz Dolls also claim that the joke caused parents to stop buying the dolls for fear that their children would want unrea-sonably large heads. Vidalia, who spoke on behalf of the dolls at a press conference earlier this year, said that his clients “had taken on drastic measures to disassoci-

ate themselves from the joke,” including, “surgeries from unlicensed physicians [and]… counseling.”

The Bratz Dolls are just a small portion on a long list of Vidalia’s clients. Perhaps the most bizarre of the pros-ecutor’s clientele is Henry Shallot, an onion farmer and entrepreneur from Pearl, Texas, who claims that the site’s “satiric nature” has caused a large portion of his possible customers from “believing that the vegetable is actually real.” At farmer’s markets across the nation, farmers are experiencing the same type of doubt: “They say what we’re sellin’ in’t real,” said Shallot to NBC New Senior Vegetable Correspondent, Regina Lavy, “They say they heard that onions were just a big joke, and that The On-ion is makin’ ‘em. I’ve lost out on millions of dollars in possible sales, thanks to them sons a bitches.” We re-ceived no comment from the onions we questioned in the grocery store, but we’re guessing that their silence was ordered by their attornies.

The Onion was forced to shut down during the investi-gation, for the judge presiding over the case said it was “immoral” for the company to continue receiving money from advertisers on the news stories in question. The judge also placed a freeze on publishing new content, believing that doing so could “add a huge number of people seeking legal action” against the company. It is unclear whether the sight will ever reopen again, but an-gry prosecutors and their families say it’s for the best.

“They’ve ruined my life, shattered my family,” says one of the victims, who asked to remain anonymous. “I can’t go anywhere without being tormented, and I certainly haven’t been able to look at the website without—with-out crying.”

The damage inflicted by The Onion seems to justify it’s shutdown and the consequences associated with the false news stories. While the victims and their families may cry now, it is obvious who will get the last laugh—and the last cry.

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Long-term abuse can lead to addiction, which

the known harmful effects on functioning within family, school, work and recreational activities.

UB Wellness Education Services Flyer

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