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Northern Star

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The Student News Site of Northern Illinois University

Northern Star

The Student News Site of Northern Illinois University

Northern Star

Of Montreal delve deeper, darker

By Derek Wright | February 13, 2007

Three songs into "Hissing Fauna, Are You The Destroyer?" it's clear this isn't the same Of Montreal. Even before Kevin Barnes sings "Don't say that I have changed/ Because, man, of course I have" on "Cato As a Pun," it is apparent that his supporting...

‘Catch’ keeps it simple and sweet

By Christopher Schimmel | February 12, 2007

Grade: B- | Many times, people find out more about the people they know after a person dies than they ever knew when he or she was alive. Sometimes, this makes it hard to maintain the original vision of that person. "Catch and Release" takes this concept...

’24’ recap: Noon to 1 p.m.

February 12, 2007

* Morris is revealed as the nuclear engineer Fayed needs to reprogram the suitcase nukes. * Graem's men kidnap Jack and his father Phillip. Jack kills his captor, and he and his father escape. * Graem is captured by Jack and CTU and taken in for questioning....

Scary flick fails to stand out

By David Rauch | February 12, 2007

Grade: C | There were high and low expectations for "The Messengers." Being the first American film directed by the talented Pang brothers, identical twins from Hong Kong, "The Messengers" could have breathed new life into the Hollywood horror scene....

‘Because I Said So’ falls flat with predictable roles

By Stacie Wieland | February 12, 2007

Grade: C+ | Milly Wilder (Mandy Moore) is cute, funny, an accomplished chef and oh, so single - something her overbearing mother Daphne (Diane Keaton) has serious problems with. She doesn't want her youngest daughter to end up alone, but God forbid she...

Slapstick was never a laughing matter

By Jenna Andriano | February 9, 2007

Today's Chicago underground punk and indie scenes are the Big Bang of modern music: both are horribly complicated and no one really believes in them, either. Actually, it has more of a creationist or intelligent design history with Brendan Kelly and the...

Where to go for dinner on Valentine’s Day

By Herminia Irizarry | February 8, 2007

Valentine's Day is not only about what you get your date - it's also about what you feed her. Luckily, DeKalb and Sycamore offer great restaurants that will tantalize taste buds and score you major Valentine's Day points with your date. Just plan on making...

Don’t get stuck without a Valentine’s Day present

By Herminia Irizarry | February 7, 2007

DeKALB | Many believe Valentine's Day is nothing but a marketing scheme developed by greeting-card companies to capitalize on people's affections. Despite those sentiments, the fact of the matter is that most women still expect something on Valentine's...

‘Remains’ anything but leftovers

By Mat Warrenfeltz | February 6, 2007

The two things that emerge when hearing the term "b-sides" are, "songs that weren't good enough for the album" or "just another way to pad the ol' bank account." Furthermore, the name of Alkaline Trio's newest album, "Remains," doesn't exactly help disprove...

I sold my soul for $2.99 a minute

By Derek Walker | February 6, 2007

Late night TV can be relatively hit-or-miss. For every classic "Home Improvement" rerun there are at least twice as many infomercials advertising products and services you would never dream of owning or using in your lifetime.

The thing is, no matter how hard you try to avoid those lingering feelings of suffocating yourself with a Ziplock bag brought on by those infomercials, it seems like you just can't beat the system. There seems to be a fusion between early morning syndicated family comedy programs and annoying adverts that you just can't avoid anymore.

Putting the ‘personal' in ‘personal ads'

As I drifted off into dreamland during a particularly interesting installment of my favorite Tim Allen program, a commercial-length infomercial particularly piqued my interest. It was for some sort of phone dating service: personal ads for the people too lazy, shy or uproariously ugly to do it the old fashioned way - leaving their homes.

However put-off I was by the fact that I wasn't getting my Tool Time fix I came to a stark revelation. Perhaps it was the haze of insomnia adversely affecting the synapses in my brain, or just me finally being realistic, but the first thing I did the next morning was give these fine people a call on my phone.

For just $2.99 a minute, I was instantly connected to hundreds of live singles in my area. Well, that was if I got past the 15 or so minutes I spent on the line with the frog-throated female operator who took down my every personal detail, from shoe size to my hair color to my credit card and social security number. They, in more ways than one I am sure, had my identity, but that was cool so long as I get to meet the woman of my every dream and desire.

At the 26-minute mark of my phone call, which simple mathematics tells me is already a $78.00 bill I'll be footing sometime in my near future, the smooth baritone of Barry White used as their "on hold" music was lifted and the operator informed me that she had found someone who lived in my area and wanted to speak with me. I was so excited.

The first fish to bite

After another three and a half minutes of "Can't Get Enough of Your Love, Babe," I was speaking to a real, live, non-frog-voiced woman. She identified herself as Pamela, a "fun, 5'9" taekwondo aficionado," or at least that is what she sounded like she was saying. I guess we had a bad connection, because I had apparently just announced that I wear adult diapers to the entire office. Nevertheless, I decided I would like to meet up with my soon-to-be date within the week. And so it was, I had my first date.

Low expectations lowered

$143.52 and one identity lighter, I met Pamela for a dinner at a restaurant of her choosing. We landed at Red Lobster, despite the 11 times I told her I hated seafood and that I'm allergic to well over half the menu. She didn't seem to care much, tearing into her snow crab leg-by-leg as I sipped my glass of water. There's nothing like treating your date to some oceanic cuisine and ending the night in over your head in credit card debt and snacking on a TV dinner.

So the date didn't turn out as I had planned. It happens, though. The world of dating itself is rather fickle. I was not about to give up. And if that meant the fine folks at AT&T busting down my door because my phone bill hasn't been paid in two months, then so be it.

This is not what I had expected. Granted, I was indeed meeting young, hot singles in my area that wanted to meet me, but none of them really met the feeble criteria I set forth for myself in the perfect woman. Heck, all I really ask for is a feminine haircut and all their digits intact, but some of these selections couldn't even provide that.

Realization and resolve

And so it was. I am the Franklin Roosevelt of social cripples. I suppose there is no easy fix to the heartbreak blues. You can't just meet the love of your life over the land-lines, no matter what those bikini-clad spokespeople tell you. I figure there's a tough decision to make regarding my future - I guess I could leave my home and attempt to strike up a conversation with someone who is actually interested in me for, well, me.

No matter what path I choose for myself, I figure I only have one date tonight: with Tim Allen and friends on "Home Improvement." And that really is enough for me.

The Daters:

Name: Pamela

About her: Smart, funny, perhaps deaf or hard of hearing in both ears. Enjoys crabs and crawdads.

Name: Tiffany

About her: Shaped like a teddy bear, and not the cute kind.

Name: Jones

About her: Always wore dark sunglasses and a trench coat. May be a spy.

Name: Busty

About her: Movie star. I never heard of any of her films, though.

Name: Sarah

About her: Cutest one of the bunch, but perhaps I'm just put off by hooks-for-hands.

Name: Charlie

About her: This "her" wasn't a "her" at all!

Bloc Party succeeds with heavy ‘80s influences, contemporary tendencies, not huge choruses

By Keith Beebe | February 6, 2007

Good luck trying to label Bloc Party. To call the South London quartet "eclectic" would be a bit of an understatement. Are they an art-rock band? Maybe they are a Cure tribute group? Who knows? "A Weekend in the City" is a recording full of chiming guitars,...

Beirut review

By Derek Wright | February 6, 2007

On the heels of last year's surprising "The Gulag Orkestar," Zach Condon seems less poised to strike while the iron is hot, but rather while it is so scorching that it peels up the paint and torches the tapestries in every Eastern European-themed hipster...

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