rva volume 4 issue 8 anything can happen

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RVA magazine was started to showcase the talents of Richmond, VA to the rest of the world... as WE see it. We pull the best media fom the region and build each issue from the most current and exciting contributions. Vibrant, unique, and with enough creative juice to redefine the city, RVA is the physical manifestation of our citywide conversation. Every issue is packed with local music, art, political commentary, fashion, and independent film coverage.


  • DELI

  • Pulp Tones 10

    Landis Wine | Image by Brandon PeckUPGRADE AND AFTERLIFE

  • 9Brandon PeckPreston Duncanil lustrations

    Kevin HennesseyDavid KenedyEll ie BoltonNestor DiazPj SykesKaren SeifertPreston DuncanHassan Pittsphotography

    Clifton FreiR. Anthony HarrisKatie McbrideThe GallaghersCasey LongyearLandis WineLauren Vincell iAdam LacyTalia Mi l lerAlina ShabashevichCurtis GrimsteadJameson PriceDave BrockiePreston DuncanChris Bopstwritings

    10 Obama Victory14 Kevin Hennessey20 Amanda Wachob26 Henry / Valentine Collaboration30 Noah Scalins Skull-a-day36 Pulp Tones: Upgrade & Afterlife38 Man Man44 Hot Lava50 Broken Social Scene54 The Fest 758 Weird Science Mix59 Nathan Joyce CD Release62 WTF?64 Indian Summer70 Dont Eat Off the Gri l l74 Ive Been Dreaming Since I Woke Up Today

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    SUBSCRIPTION Go online to RVAMAG.com HEADS UP! The advertising and articles appear-ing within this publication reflect the opinion and attitudes of their respective authors and not neces-sari ly those of the publisher or edi-tors. Reproduction in whole or part without prior written permission from the publisher is strictly pro-hibited. RVA Magazine is published monthly. Images are subject to being altered from their original format. Al l material within this magazine is protected.

    RVA is a registered trademark of Inkwell Design L .L .C. THANK YOU.

    VOLUME 4 ISSUE 8 ANYTHING CAN HAPPEN cover by Amanda Wachob

    R. Anthony Harrispublisher

    Parker editor-in-chief

    Scott Whitenermanaging editor

    Adam Sleddombudsman

    Ben MuriRVA TV manager

    Brandon Pecksenior designer

    Mi les Qui l lenyoungblood

    Casey Longyearfashion

    R. Anthony HarrisAshley YorkJohn Reinholdadvertising team

    Kat StewartIntern

    Pulp Tones 10

    Landis Wine | Image by Brandon PeckUPGRADE AND AFTERLIFE Last month, we got the news that we had won 2 American

    Graphic Design Awards for 2008.

    Thank you to everyone that has supported us in the community.

    Thank you to my team on RVA who put everything into this project every month. We love what we do and these awards are just icing on the cake. -Tony

  • Obama VictOry:a repOrt FrOm Grant parkClifton Frei

    Now, like most of the readers of RVA Magazine and the 249,999 or so other people in Chicagos Grant Park that Tuesday night, I hate change. I also hate puppies. I love war, oil and rich folk, and I wrote in a vote for Gods chosen leader, George W. Bush. I long for the days when a restroom was a little on the lighter side if you know what I mean.

    Naw, Im just joshin you, but let me tell you about one of the more amazing things I did feel in Grant Park Tuesday night: the absence of hate. Well, the drunk girl next to me shouted, John McCain can eat my pussy, but I think she was more drunk than malicious, and surprisingly much more the exception than the rule of behavior.

    The people in Grant Park clapped not ironically, but respectfully during Mc-Cains concession speech. Like the silence felt after the bombs stopped falling on November 11th 1918, signaling the end of the Great War, the palpable lack of hate touched everyone of us and seemed to signal, well, something great. Scores of people will try to define that something in the coming months and years, but there wont be any clear idea of what it was until Im grey, if we get that far. If we dont, and there are but a few ragtag resistance fighters huddled in caves, hiding from machines that look like Austrian bodybuilders, we will speak of November 4th 2008 as they used to speak of November 11th 1918, the last pause before we REALLY tried to kill everything.

    I, and the rest of the 249,999 or so people in Grant Park, tend to think well live that long.

    I arrived at about 7 p.m. and was apprehensive because I was worried about what would happen if he lost. Having lived in Chicago for a little while now and experienced what Cubs fans do when they lose (damage proper ty, brain cells and each other; paralyze Sox fans), I was looking for the fastest means of egress.

    However, the thing about Cubs fans is that the majority of them seem to be frat-house refugees, uniformly white and with a tad too much disposable income. The thing about those gathered in Grant Park was that there was no one thing about them. I stood next to African-American, African-African, white, Hispanic, Philippino, European, gay, straight, male, fe-male, children, teenagers, middle-aged and two elderly Bel-gian women. All at once.

    If the 300,000 or so who marched on Washington in 1963 were on a mission as they overwhelmed the streets of a major metropolis, we were on our way to the after par ty. The late, late, late, late, late after par ty, but a par ty nonetheless. On downtown streets, normally flushed with a powerful feeling of anxiety, with suits power walking to meetings, eating Subway and drinking lattes, worrying about moving around little green pieces of paper that have value simply because we are all forced to agree that they do, thousands of people smiled and laughed and wore buttons and covered every square foot of concrete with light and hope and all the things that Christmas movies try to make us feel are possible. We were a large and surging, flesh and blood Christmas movie walking the same streets they used to film Batman. Christopher Nolan is going to have to shoot in Detroit now, because we went and ruined all the hopelessness.

    When we got there most of us gathered around three jumbo-trons broadcasting jumbo-CNN, while only 65,000 or so were in the area where President-elect Barack Hussein Obama (goosebumps) would speak. As jumbo-Wolf Blitzer and jum-bo-Anderson Cooper 360 announced state after state going

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  • to Obama, the crowd gave one raucous cheer after another, prompting me to send a mass text message, Me, my girlfriend, Barack Obama, and all your liberal friends are in Grant Park. The mood is jubilant and peaceful. Ive never felt anything like this before.

    Sometime after 9 or so there was a bit of a lull. Many of the few thousand people in front of me sat down on the grass. It was like we were all on the straightaway of a roller coaster, waiting for the last mind-boggling dip. I was waiting for Virgin-ia. A few days ago I talked with a friend of mine in Richmond, a gay black man, some of whose white friends said they were voting for McCain because they were protecting Obama from being assassinated. These strike me as the same kind of people who would say things like, hes a credit to his race, now Im not prejudiced, but, and other such not-so-thinly veiled expressions of racism. This, coupled that with the fact that Virginia hadnt voted for a Democratic president since a Kennedy lived to see his election day, is why I mailed my vote for Obama back home (as was my legal right, since I lived in Virginia for par t of 2008), as opposed to registering here in Chicago.

    I have known many Virginians. Ive had the oppor tunity to work with, befriend and love Virginians of all colors, creeds and income levels, and the quality of the people I meet never seems to match the perception of them. One-on-one we are all such good, caring, strong people, but as a whole we seem so intolerant and fearful. My hope was that we would come to our senses, that fearmongering and distrust would fail and that conservative Virginia would find a way to see beyond color and par ty lines.

    When jumbo-Wolf announced that Barack Obama had taken Virginia, thousands of people sitting in front of me leapt into the air at once. I screamed and my eyes became wet. Moments later we were all jumping up and down as though we were try-ing to move the ear th because of the jumbo-words Barack Obama elected President of the United States.

    Now, normally Im a cynic. Normally I believe that true, positive change in our government can only come from a fundamental change in the capital driven, two-par ty system of competing elites. Normally.

    For 15 or 20 solid minutes we screamed and cheered and jumped. I kissed my girlfriend many times. The commentary from jumbo-CNN even-tually reasser ted itself as we quieted down, waiting for our new leader to address us. The crowd around my jumbotron began to get restless and noticed that the two other jumbotrons had already switched to a shot of the podium in the ticketed area where Obama would speak. As one we turned and began walking towards the closest of the other two mega-TVs. Fuck CNN, I said.

    Im not sure how may of you have par ticipated in a stampede before, but there is usually a moment before everyone star ts running when everyone is thinking, Should I star t running? and wondering if they personally will be the cause of the stampede and thus responsible for the trampling of little children. This moment was entirely bypassed by a general feeling of, yaaay!!!! and we just ran.

    I ended up next to the aforementioned elderly Belgian ladies who were be-ing interviewed by Belgian TV repor ters. They were quiet, but expressive, and seemed close to tears. We were all a little overwhelmed, listening to the public address speakers sing, Here I am, signed, sealed, delivered, Im yours, and as clich as it sounds, we all truly felt that he was ours when Presidentelect Barack Hussein Obama wal