"I just have to be here when the Pope comes," says Femi, a 38-year-old black man sitting behind a table on Philadelphia's Benjamin Franklin Parkway. On green tablecloth, he displays artwork, pictures he drew and wants to sell: one of the Pope caught in a selfie, another of the Pope delivering a speech. He also sells a T-shirt showing the Pope with a sheep around his neck.

The artist's real name is Adetokunbo Oluwafemi Ige, and he sleeps a few feet behind his table on the grass beneath the trees on Parkway.

Femi has been living on the streets for over a year, he says, since he left prison, where was incarcerated for eight years. He's been on Parkway since the end of May.

He is homeless, but not lazy.

Femi would probably sell some of his pictures during the papal visit, since the Pope will come to the Parkway on Saturday and Sunday. The Pope is even scheduled to pass the very spot where Femi is posted up right now during his his motorcade tour. Officials estimate that up to 1.5 million fans and tourists will come to see Pope Francis.

That's a lot of potential customers.

Adetokunbo Oluwafemi Ige, or "Femi," at his spot on the Benjamin Franklin Parkway in Philadelphia. All photos by the author

But Femi will almost certainly do no business at all this week, as he's set to get kicked out of the place he calls his "little community" by Thursday at 10 PMalong with around 150 other people living on Parkway and in the surrounding parks and Logan Square. For other big events, it might not be so surprising that homeless folks get cleared out, but this security measure is rather bizarre given Pope Francis's focus on helping poor and homeless people throughout his public life.

Some of the homeless people have already been pushed out.

The western part of Parkway, where many men and women live, is now clear of cars, clear of bikes and clear of people. You can still wander through it, but security officials target anyone who tries to sleep on the grass.

On VICE News: Pope Francis's First American Trip Will Be Heavy on Politics and Prayer

Tonight, the whole Parkway, including Logan Square and its surrounding parks, will be closed and all unofficial residents removed. On Friday morning, homeless people will have the chance to return to the eastern part when the gates open for the public. But there will be restrictions that could make it nearly impossible for them to go about their business.

For instance, homeless people will not be allowed to return to the larger, western part of Parkway. You need a ticket for that, and the 10,000 tickets that were given away for free on the web were gone within 30 seconds. Homeless people can return to the eastern part of Parkway, to Aviator Park and Logan Squarebut only if they store their belonging somewhere. Security procedures do not allow backpacks or bags exceeding the size restrictions (18" x 13" x 7"). That means no carts, no mattresses, no large suitcasesexactly the things that homeless folks usually take with them.

Darryl Williams is furious about this. A small man with very bad teeth, he walks restlessly around on the grass of Aviator Park next to Parkway, where he lives. Williams does not believe that he has to leave Parkway because of security reasons.

"There will be cameras from all around the world hereand they don't want us in the picture," he says, wandering faster and faster while talking. "This violates our civil rights. Is this America or is this Nazi Germany?" he shouts. "They could just as well take us and burn us."

Another black man wearing a new sweater, clean jeans, and a chain with a cross around his neck, steps up to calm Williams, but shares the man's disappointment.

"The Pope is coming for the poor," he says. "He wants to see the homeless. But they don't let him see us."

This is Malik Robinson; he lived on Parkway for three years, and was addicted to cocaine. Now he's clean and lives in a shelter, but comes to see his old community frequently during the day.

"People should see this," he says. "The Pope should see this."

Philadelphia's most vulnerable aren't the only ones pissed off; the organizations that care for them are agitated as well. Will O'Brien is the special projects coordinator of Project Home, a local organization that provides help for people living on the streets. He is humble and low-key, but can't help getting a bit fiery.

"The whole security plan feels excessive to me," O'Brien tells VICE. "And a lot of people feel angry about that in Philadelphia." (Multiple calls to the Secret Service, which is helping coordinate preparations for the papal visit, were not returned.)

While some Philadelphians are mostly concerned about whether they will get to work on time or where to park their car, the Parkway homeless feel likeas usualthey're getting the worst of it.

Check out our documentary about the spandex-laden crusaders working to help Montreal's homeless population.

Philadelphia Mayor Michael Nutter's office isn't saying a whole lot about the people being cleared out for the papal visit.

"Once areas are cleared, anyone including the homeless can come back into the Parkway area through magnetometers," Mark McDonald, the mayor's press secretary, writes in an email. Asked whether he thinks it appropriate to shut them out for one night and to forbid bringing larger bags afterwards, McDonald writes, "The measures in place are appropriate to the security task."

Marie Nahikian from the Office of Supportive Housing in Philadelphia assures that there will be additional beds in shelters for "the residents experiencing homelessness" during the Pope's visit. "When the sweeps are happening, there will be outreach teams out there," she explains. "The residents experiencing homelessness will be offered places to go. They will have a choice."

But the people living on the Parkway are not fond of city shelters.

"It is often not very secure there," says Mark Wise, a formerly homeless man who used to live on the Parkway and has since gotten off he street but still returns as a volunteer. "There is a lot of criminal activity going on and you have to obey to a lot of rules. I never liked it there and neither do the guys from Parkway."

Just outside the city center (where, according to homeless people, cops do not tend to allow them to congregate), the Parkwaywith many benches, and lots of grass to sleep onhas been a natural destination for homeless people in Philadelphia for years. They get served free meals there; they can get vouchers to get an ID; the library on the other side of the street has a caf where they can sit as long as they want and where they can recharge their phones.

"None of us likes it here on Parkway," Williams says angrily. "But it is a place close to everything."

For one man, it will be especially hard to leave. Karlo Dudley, or "KD," claims he's lived on the Parkway for 34 years, since 1981. He may be not very reliablehe also says that he has met the Pope three weeks ago for dinner and that he is the head of the Pope's security teambut Carol Thomas, director of homeless services at Project Home, knows him well.

She also knows that he hates to leave his spot.

"During Hurricane Sandy he slept outside on the cathedral's steps," she recalls. The Cathedral Basilica of St Peter and Paul is right next to Parkway and Logan Square.

"KD said, 'I'll be fine.' We came very early in the morning to look after him. He was still sleeping, just slept over the storm."

KD at his spot

KD remembers the storm and says he wanted to stay outside that day to witness it. He also calls himself "head of CIA" and wears a red jacket covered with signs and writing drawn with a felt pen on all sides.

He is probably schizophrenic, according to Thomas. But he's also a friendly guy who only gets anxious when taken away from his spot against his will.

This will be a problem.

"We hope that he will come with us and does not have to be taken by the police," Thomas says. "He really wants to see the Pope." Thomas already offered to help KD return within the security zone on Saturday to see witness the visit, but the procedures make it very difficult. "I'm not sure he will make it," she says.

Femi, the artist, wants to stay too. "They haven't thrown us out yet. We are standing strong," he says. "I like to be underneath the law."

He does not seem to understand that the plans to kick him out are finalized.

"Maybe Cuba did it better," Thomas says, having seen the pictures from the Pope's trip there. "Everyone was there to see the Pope. They probably don't have the concerns about security that we have."

Follow Lisa Nienhaus on Twitter.

This is not where you will find terrorists hanging out. Image via Wiki

Read: The Future of Terrorism According to VICE

Just a week after a Muslim kid got arrested for bringing a homemade clock to school, the Guardian reports that a student of counterterrorism has been accused of being a terrorist for reading a book in his university library about how to counter terrorism.

Mohammed Umar Farooq, a student on the terrorism, crime, and global security master's degree at Staffordshire University, was questioned by the university authorities after being seen reading a textbook called Terrorism Studies in the college library.

The incident took place back in March, but has come to light after the university apologized to Farooq, stating that the official who questioned him in the university library had only been trained for a few hours. Farooq was asked for his views on the Islamic State throwing gay men out of buildings, as well as his general opinion on Islam and al Qaeda.

Cage, the UK advocacy group, claims this is part of a broader problem. "Since October 2014, Cage has received almost 100 cases . What this case displays is something we have seen frequently: most notably the over-reporting of normative behavior, and a fear-based approach that alienates and antagonizes communities."

A spokesperson for the university said, "We have apologized to Mr. Farooq and are in dialogue with him on how we can support him to continue his studies with us. In light of recent legislation, we are ensuring all staff at the university have the right guidance and training."

Cover of Buffy Sainte-Marie's latest album, Power in the Blood

It's 5 AM when Buffy Sainte-Marie picks up the phone at her home in Hawaii, but there's no semblance of fatigue in her voice: the 74-year-old folk legend and 2015 Polaris Prize victor dispenses sagely advice between bursts of kind laughter. Sainte-Marie, born on Piapot Cree First Nation in Saskatchewan, came up in the industry during the '60s alongside the likes of Bob Dylan, Joni Mitchell, and Neil Young, releasing her now-legendary It's My Way! in 1964. Since then, she's dropped another 20 albums, been blacklisted by the US government, been sampled by Kanye West (and thenYoung Thug), and become one of the most renowned First Nations activists in the world. She's showing no signs of slowing down.

VICE:You've won many awards in your time. How does it feel to pick up the Polaris Prize?
Buffy Sainte-Marie: It's a big surprise, I'll tell you that! It's wonderful. I'm really thrilled. I have a lot of respect for the Polaris Prize for specific reasons. One of things that makes it so personally nice for me is that I had the time to listen to all of the other artists: I listened to the entire album for everybody. I got to hear some of the lesser cuts that might not get played on the radio. Full respect for the all the different kinds of music that people are making in Canada.

Did any of the albums stand out to you most?
I had my own little shortlist: I couldn't narrow it down to one. I had no idea who was going to win: I didn't think it was going to be me. I liked Tobias Jesso Jr., I liked Jennifer Castle's album, I liked Caribou, and I really liked Viet Cong. And God bless them for changing their name, it's the smartest thing they could have done. If the name is distracting from the music, just change it. I had big hugs for them and congratulated them for the decision to change their name.

You were a very early pioneer of using electronics in your music. What's it like to hear artists like Caribou and Drake take these technologies to entirely new levels?
It's a dream come true for me. As you say, I've been into electronic music since the '60s: I made the first-ever totally electronic quadraphonic vocal album ever, called Illuminations. People really, really didn't understand it. But art students did. Electronic musicians did. There were people making electronic music back then: Jon Hassell and Brian Eno and Morton Subotnick. But audiences were not hearing it because the record companies and the market weren't really that interested in it so they weren't bringing it to people.

I think it's real important to acknowledge the role of a good record company. Especially True North in this regard because they got this album to people's ears. That's the biggest difference with this album: it's not as though it's better than Running for the Drum or Coincidence and Likely Stories, but they didn't get heard. They didn't have a record company really making it available to radio stations who then make it available to other people. The internet didn't used to be what it is now. Some people were afraid of electronic music. It's really nice. I'm glad. I think it's a wonderful medium that offers all kinds of avenues for creativity.

The name of the album, Power in the Blood, comes from an Alabama 3 title. Why did you decide to reference that album?
Well I'm a big fan of Alabama 3: they wrote the theme song for The Sopranos! when my mom was passing. I don't have any plans to stop being an artist. Artists just don't stop. I only go on road when I think I have something to offer people, so I'll probably continue to come and go on the scene and not worry about it very much. Let somebody else do some of the work! Everybody who's got dreams in their hearts and issues that are bothering them: don't be afraid of it. Just keep on keeping on. We're all ripening every day.

Bailiffs

Yesterday and this morning, residents and activistsoccupying houses on the Sweets Way estate in North London were violentlyevicted by bailiffs and police to make way for 288 swanky new flats and houses, of which only 59will be "affordable." The estate is owned by developer Annington Homes, whichdescribed the properties as being "illegally occupied by squatters."

Themajority of the residents of Sweets Way left at the beginning of this year,leaving behind hundreds of empty homes. Activists, supporters, and some former residentshave spent the last few months moving in to the empty properties and doing themup to make them livable. They called the DIY rebel stronghold Sweetstopia, andit was an attempt to prove that the destruction of the homes is unnecessary.

The occupiers of the estate woke up to shouts of"bailiffs," as around 50 high court enforcement officers forced entry to thehouses to remove the activists and residents still living there. They werebacked up by police, as well as fire and ambulance crews.

Activists had built makeshift barricades around the fewhouses that were still occupied, using whatever they could find from the estateto keep the bailiffs from enteringmostly pallets, cupboard doors, andwooden boards with angry words written on them.

By lunchtime, most of the homes were empty, althoughprotestors had taken to the roofs of some properties, refusing to move.

Bailiffs, flanked by police officers, then used anindustrial scissor lift to get onto the buildings and forcibly remove theactivists.

Some tried to resist. This guy was left hanging fromthe lift as he struggled with the bailiffs. At one point, one bailiff looked asthough he could send the activist splattering to the ground simply by letting go, just to hear the dull thud of his body crumpling into some concrete. Although in fact he was secured to a rope.

Once on the ground, more bailiffs and police piled in,and the activist was arrested. As he was taken away, others chanted "Shame onyou."

This guy, on the other hand, decided to play dead,resulting in him being carried off the roof and away in the manner of a grandfatherclock being delivered.

I spoke to an activist who wanted to remain anonymous,who described being forced out in the early morning: "We woke up to bailiffsand police moving in, and even though the police are here to prevent a breachof the peace, they inevitably take sides. They're prejudiced, and Anningtondon't give a shit about the people living here. They're just out to make asmuch money as possible."

By the end of the day, the only original residentleft on the estate was disabled father of four Mostafa Aliverdipour. He hasbeen offered alternative accommodation by the council, but can't move there asit's unsuitable for his wheelchair.

Related:Watch 'Regeneration Game,' our documentary about the battle to live in London

The court ruling that allows bailiffs to evict Mostafaonly came at around three o'clock in the afternoon, by which time a wall offences, chairs, doors, and broken glass had been built around his home in anattempt to keep the bailiffs out. Around 20 people were in the house, and theytook to the roof as police looked on.

Eventually, reinforcement arrived in the form of threevans full of riot police. They planned to use the pretext of apparently stolenproperty being embedded in the barricade to enter the property. A policehelicopter hovered above, but the officers eventually decided not to riskaggravating the situation any more, and they kept their distance.

One of the estate's former residents, who was forcedto move her family to Hendon in April and who didn't feel like telling me hername, told me that the protest shows the strength of the community: "I lived here for 15years, but now I'm lost. The council have treated people really badly, it'sdisgusting. Some people have been offered accommodation as far away asBirmingham. What the people are doing is trying to protect the estate, and it'sa beautiful estate... We had an incredible community, we knew our neighbors, itwas safe. To just to build luxury flats, it's disgusting. Theaffordable houses they've promised are not really affordable, and they'll stillbe bought up by landlords just to rent them out and cash the profits."

She added: "I've never seen an eviction so violentbefore. Especially when they started pushing the metal fences against thepeople, it was scary."

In a statement, Annington Homes said "All tenants haveknown since 2009 that the accommodation was temporary subject to redevelopmentof the estate, and all new tenants who have arrived in the intervening yearshave been made aware that this housing was only available for a limitedperiod."

Sian Berry, the Green Party's mayoral candidate, was on the estate supporting the activists. "If you look at the people evictedhere today, they're homeless now. They didn't have anywhere to live, and therewere empty homes here", she said. "They're responding to a natural need, they need a home.We absolutely support them, and I don't want to see homes left empty."

This morning, at around 8 AM, bailiffs finally moved in on Mostafa'shouse, and evicted the last Sweets Way family. Mostafa still doesn't have apermanent place to go. More riot police were brought in to assists bailiffs inremoving people from the roof of Mostafa's former home. Over the two days, nineactivists were arrested. With the last resident now evicted from the estate,Annington are free to start demolishing houses and developing luxury flatswhere the former Housing Association homes once stood.

Follow Bo Franklin on Twitter.

'Salutations, my bulbous brothers and sisters.' Photo via Man Alive!

This article originally appeared on VICE UK

Some things you just can't shake. When I was a kid I was watching a very brave BBC documentary about some troubles somewhereI don't know where; I was a kid, the memory is hazy, but it was in a jungle-like settingand there was this really vivid moment where a guy got shot. There was all this preamble to the guy getting shot: two men blindfolded him, jostled him around, disorientated him, and he was begging. "Please," he was saying, "Please, my brother, my wife and my brother" and then: pofttttt. Single bullet to the base of the skull. Slumped over dead in his fatigues. I just wept. I wasn't expecting it. Both of my parents had to wrestle me out of the room to calm me down. I absolutely lost my mind. And I can still replay every second of that footage in my head. Still hear the sound and then the silence. Stunned and bloodless. Straightforward. Death.

Anyway, Morrissey's written a book, and can we just talk about this passage from it, please? Becauserelated to the above, there is a hook to all thisit will not leave me. The word pair "howling mouth" is writ large when I close my eyes. When I try to find moments of peace, a high quiet hum whispers "bulbous salutation," a cheeky trombone noise of an erection descriptor:

"Eliza and Ezra rolled together into the one giggling snowball of full-figured copulation, screaming and shouting as they playfully bit and pulled at each other in a dangerous and clamorous rollercoaster coil of sexually violent rotation with Eliza's breasts barrel-rolled across Ezra's howling mouth and the pained frenzy of his bulbous salutation extenuating his excitement as it smacked its way into every muscle of Eliza's body except for the otherwise central zone."

Now: I am a relatively un-perverted man. But I would like to see that shagging in action. I would like to watch two people do that shagging. I would like to see what bits go where. Because I have read that maybe 15, 20 times now, and I still can't quite... I mean, screaming and shouting? Am I doing sex wrong, or are they having some sort of foreplay water balloon fight? What in the blue and infinite fuck is a "snowball of full-figured copulation"?

Anyway, I'm still trying to figure out how Ezra and Eliza intend to actually get it in, so the only way to really do that is to go through it line by line. Sorry:

"Eliza and Ezra rolled together into the one giggling snowball of full-figured copulation"

You know in cartoon Westerns, where a fight breaks out and everyone rolls up into a dust ball of flailing limbs, and there are "kapow" noises, and then the whole thing rolls off screen and Bugs Bunny in a cowboy hat and waistcoat just really calmly bites into a carrot? That is how Morrissey thinks sex goes.

"Screaming and shouting as they playfully bit and pulled at each other"

I have a friend who works at a support home for young offenders, and Morrissey's description of foreplay could have been taken verbatim from one of their incident reports.

"A dangerous and clamorous rollercoaster coil of sexually violent rotation."

Play the latest Buzzfeed quiz: Jeremy Clarkson describing a red fast car, or Morrissey imagining some especially athletic foreplay?

"Eliza's breasts barrel-rolled"

Was Morrissey not paying attention, like, at all during health class in grade school? When the girls were all ushered into a separate assembly to be stoically told how periods worked and the boys all had to stay behind in class and learn distantly about ovaries? Was Morrissey just staring out of the window thinking about how important a single stemmed rose was or how sighing a lot is good? Because dude does not know what a titty is. Morrissey does not know what a titty is, or how it works. Morrissey has never beheld a titty and Morrissey has never looked at a diagram of one on a whiteboard. Morrissey just described a titty capable of doing a barrel roll, an aeronautical maneuver exclusive to only the most agile of planes. Morrissey basically just described a titty that clangs. To Morrissey, a titty is essentially nine long iron chains fixed to a bicycle wheel being whipped around excitedly by a group of children. To Morrissey, a titty is small pieces of unwanted scrap metal being dropped inelegantly down a well.

"Ezra's howling mouth and the pained frenzy of his"

"Howling"; "pained frenzy." Going to have to stop you there, Eliza, you metal-tittied queen: you appear to be having sex with a stunned bear.

" bulbous salutation"

I feel like Morrissey took this description of an erection from some court documents where a local eccentric in a closely-knitted provincial town was found extraordinarily guilty of fucking a council-run flower bed. "And what happened to the daffodils, Mr. Richards?" "Dug 'em out, of course. Spaded them up with my bulbous salutation."

"extenuating his excitement as it smacked its way into every muscle of Eliza's body except for the otherwise central zone."

What I am getting from this is Ezra sort of dabbed at Eliza's body with his penis like a beaver tamping a dam down with its tail and then, at the climactic moment of entry, just jammed it vaguely near the erotic, the ethereal, the greatest mystery a woman possesses: her otherwise central zone. Fuckbois of the present and the future were just handed the greatest indistinct vagina description ever in history. "Ey girl, nudes?" they are saying on Tinder right now. "Let me see them titties. Turn around and let me see that peach. Get out the shower and show me your otherwise central zone." Clap it while chanting it: Morrissey. Has. Never. Seen. Another. Naked. Human. In. His. Life.

But who am I? When have a thousand crying dads ever lined up to see me sing on a stage while wearing a plain black shirt and being aggressively vegetarian? Where's my book deal, huh? Where's my Wikipedia page? Essentially, the annals of history will not remember me, but they will remember Morrissey: his pompadour, Salford Lads Club, that iron-strong chin, tits that can flip over 360-degrees while flying high over the English countryside on RAF maneuvers, otherwise central zones. Well played, Morrissey, you mad sexless alien. Well played.

Follow Joel on Twitter.

A MGTOW protester in Edmonton. Screenshot via YouTube

All over the world, straight men are making the conscious decision not to be involved with women.

This isn't a decision in any sort of metaphorical sense. These men are literally cutting women out of their lives, completely. It's not a spiritual choicelike becoming ordained as a Catholic priestnor is it a socioeconomic problem, like Japan's herbivore men. It is more of an ideological celibacy, one that crosses both national borders and religious divides. And the basic reason is the slow crawl toward gender equality.

They are called Men Going Their Own Way (or MGTOW, pronounced "mig-tow") and they have a serious problem with feminism. To them, the feminist movement has all but ruined our society, and it just doesn't make sense to participate in the dating game because women have been, in their eyes, programmed to ruin a man's life. Around every corner they seem to see one-dimensional women who are just out to take their well-earned money and stick them with kids who aren't theirs.

Also false rape accusations: They are fucking terrified of those gosh-darn prevalent false rape accusations.

At first glance, it's easy to lump MGTOW in with typical Men's Rights Activists (MRAs) who also believe that female oppression is a myth and that it's actually males who are oppressedbut that's not the case. The two groups differ significantly in how they make sure those tricky, tricky women don't pull any of their devious tactics. While MRAs are out to fix the problem through action and activism, members of MGTOW hold self-preservation above all else, and because of this the majority of the community seems to have decided to bow out.

They've had enough, and they're taking their balls and going home.

I first came across this story while reporting on Edmonton's Slut Walk earlier this year. There was a young-ish man protesting the event in a superhero/cheerleader costume, the initials MGTOW emblazoned across his chest. He held signs that said "Women are programmed to ruin men's lives" and "Feminism is a refuge for woman's (sic) sexual failure."

He didn't seem angry. If I were to play armchair psychologist, I thought he just looked sad.

A major rule with Men Going Their Own Way is that no women are allowed in the communitysomething that differs from MRAs. The group also has a penchant for anti-Big Government rhetoric, but, in all honesty, that isn't the most surprising thing in the world. Also, one can't simply proclaim to be a MGTOW. There are stages. In fact, numerous MGTOWs have proposed that members of the community can track their growth with something called "The Four Levels of MGTOW."

• Level 0 - Situational Awareness: here the member has "taken the red pill" and embraces the idea that gender equality is a lie and propaganda.
• Level 1 - Rejection of Long-Term Relationships: where the man rejects long-term relationships but will still partake in short-term relationships and sexual encounters.
• Level 2 - Rejection of Short-Term Relationships: here the member won't participate in hook-ups or any form of short-term or sexual relationships.
• Level 3 - Economic Disengagement: a member at this stage refuses to earn more money than is necessary for sustaining life. He views the government as tyrannical and is trying to actively drain money from the bureaucrats.
• Level 4 - Societal Disengagement: this is as far as a mainstream MGTOW can go. Here the man refuses to interact with society any more than ever.

Few members will ever reach level four, and the majority seem to float somewhere between the second and third level. But even if they don't go full-out, most members will see themselves cut off from most "unneeded" contact with women, and in extreme cases even alienate themselves from their friends and family.

Photo via Facebook group MGTOW - Men Going Their Own Way

"All my friends are MGTOW, I bond with no other, the smell of cunt on a man's breath is sickening! Their not interesting to men because we don't need them! Femininity will be the price women pay for enjoying masculinity in men."

Since that time, the movement has exploded in westernized English-speaking countries such as the US, Canada, Australia, and the UK. According to MGTOW.com, the epicentre of men going their own way is Toronto because the centre of the Canadian universe "is the worst city in the world if you are a man." The community has quietly flown under the radar of the public for some time now, only being publicized by right wing publication Breitbart,who deemed the movement the "Sexodous," and Info Wars, a website run by conspiracy theorist Alex Jones. (Both articles had a significant anti-feminist lean.)

An Infowars video on the subject

However, MGTOW isn't the revolutionary movement many of its followers hold it up to be, nor is it even a new concept. Throughout the ages, similar movements have popped up as pushback any time feminism managed a win. Communities similar to MGTOW and MRAs were around during the suffragist movement, when women began entering the workforce, and so on. In the '80s and '90s, the mythopoetic men's movement developed as a response to the second wave of feminism.

The cycle is a reactionary one.

Dr. Tristan Bridges is an Assistant Professor of Sociology at the College of Brockport and works with the scholarly journal Men, Masculinities, and Methodologies. Bridges' work deals in depth with gender issues specifically focused on masculinity. I asked him to explain MGTOW and the history of similar movements from a scholar's position.

"When we look at the historical record that's what it shows: men start to get pissed off and want to talk about masculinity and change masculinity right after there has been some sort of transformation in femininity," Bridges said. "When these kinds of things come up, I think historians would say something significant has happened with respect to gender inequality that men are feeling their position of privilege as challenged and this is a cultural reaction that takes place after that happens."

There are numerous factors at play here and another major one possibly driving the movement is "gender vertigo." This is a concept put forward by Barbara Risman that deals with gender expectations and ties into the sense that we don't really know what it means to be masculine anymore.

But it's hard to listen to any concernsvalid or otherwisecoming from the "manosphere" when these groups employ such disrespectful and, at times, hateful rhetoric.

I don't know what it means to be masculine either, but I am pretty sure it doesn't involve five levels of exorcising women.

Follow Mack Lamoureux on Twitter.

'The Mindy Project.' Photo courtesy of Hulu.

Asa kid growing up in suburban Connecticut in the late 90s and early 2000s, myonly reference to any vaguely relatable Indian-American woman in the public eyewas Jhumpa Lahiri, a Pulitzer-winning author with a Victorian seriousness. Knownfor her tailored and proper fiction about a newly emerging Indian diaspora,Lahiri was brilliant, if a bit prim. Nearly two decades later we have MindyKaling, star and creator of the eponymously titled show The Mindy Project. As thecharacter of Mindy Lahiri, an OB/GYN with guy problems, Kaling appears to givea winking nod to the author's cultural significance.

Somuch of Asian-American diasporic literature and film focuses on profound issuesof existence and identity, but seldom do Asian-Americans have the space andagency to, well, be shallow, interested in boys, nail art, and You've Got Mail. For one thing, MindyLahiri, the protagonist and simultaneous anti-heroine, is both the clich modelminority (a successful doctor) and the conventional hot mess (think Meg Ryanmeets Lena Dunham). For another, both Mindys get annoyed at any mention ofotherness or ethnicity.

Perhaps it's an in-your-face response to the whiteness of rom-coms, where she, a self-described 'chubby' Indian woman, is the center of attention, the narcissistic, flawed, and inscrutable object of desire.

Kaling,the Dartmouth-educated child of Indian immigrants, author of two best-sellingbooks and former cast-member of TheOffice, is frequently on the receiving end of questions about race. When askedin 2014 whether it was a conscious decision for her to be the only femaledoctor of color on the show, Kaling snapped, "I'm a fucking Indian woman who has herown fucking network television show, OK?" Shecontinued, exasperated: "I have four series regulars that are womenon my show, and no one asks any of the shows I adore why no leads on theirshows are women or of color." Speaking with NPR that same year, she opined, "I think that it's insidious to be spending more of yourtime reflecting about your otherness rather than doing the hard work of yourjob." Kaling seems uninterested in joining theranks of comedians like Aziz Ansari, Russell Peters, or Kal Penn, who frequentlyrefer to their race and cultural background. And yet by simply being herself,Kaling already isand always has beenapart of that heritage. The decision to assimilate, after all, is an equallyvalid, if less popular reaction to diaspora.

Manycritics disdain her rejection of identity politics, though perhaps her stance is a meaningful act in itself. For the character of Mindy Lahiri, it means aworld where she is allowed to be shallow, where she can make it all about cuteguys and awkward failures and one-liner zingers and besties if she wants to. By employing numerous references to mainstream love stories incinema, Kaling has spun her own protagonist's romantic plight into a kind ofrosy and idealistic web. Kaling, the author, even writes in her second book, Why Not Me?: "I don't want to be real! When I think of thingsthat are 'real,' I think of income taxes and Putin's invasion of Ukraine. Realis bad! I want fantasy!"

Despiteher desire to avoid such realities, at times it seems Kaling wishes to subvertthe average-girl-next-door rom-com image, conveying the message that one doesn'thave to be a petite blonde with socioeconomic means to getpowerful, attractive white men and possibly achieve a happy ending. Perhapsit's an in-your-face response to the whiteness of rom-coms, where she, a self-described"chubby" Indian woman, is the center of attention, the narcissistic, flawed,and inscrutable object of desire. In fact, Kaling's protagonist is soself-involved that Al Jazeera calledMindy Lahiri's character "ahistorical," arguing that Kaling "appears to be a woman without any family orcommunity," "a character simply born of the imagined community of lovelorncareer women whose identities are defined purely by what they buy."

Thatmay have been true, until now. Season four begins with just that issue, furtherturning Mindy Lahiri's world into a gleeful caricature of itself. The wholeepisode is bisected into two bizarre situations: Mindy is dreaming throughoutthe whole episode while Danny, unbeknownst to her, is in India with herparents. In her dream, Mindy is still in her 20s, happily married to Joseph Gordon-Levitt as a handsomereality-show producer; she and Danny (Chris Messina)her love interestthroughout the series and father of the unborn childare no longer on talkingterms; she is having a steamy affair with the holistic quack above her OB/GYNpractice; she has a lavish apartment; and, the kicker, she is no longerpregnant.

Meanwhile,in real life, Danny made the dramatic trek to India to convince a pair of hipLahiri parents (who drop pop-culture references every other sentence and appearjust as quirky and vain as their daughter) to give Mindy to him in good faith.He tells them he loves Mindy and is the father of her child, but doesn't wantto get married. They give him their blessing because, as forward-thinkingpeople, they are just glad that somebody loves her the way Danny does. Thecasualness with which Kaling introduces a character's family history is tellingof her interest in the future, rather than the past.

Andthe future is what Kaling embodies very self-consciously. She knows there hasnever been a situation where an Indian-American woman on TV is giving birth outof wedlock with parents who are uncommonly chill about it. There has never beenan Indian-American woman who makes her male characters constantly comment onher weight only to humorously brush it off (Kaling has often said she would bemore offended by being called not smart or witty than not beautiful). Kalingunderstands all these statements about her being a "pioneer," but rejects it. Her act ofdissent, it would seem, is to just make all this seem normallike the contentis no big deal. It refuses to acknowledge that her place in life as a majorplayer in the world of comedy, especially as a woman of color, took a lot ofhustle.

Kaling'sworldand, indeed, perhaps the world of the futureis one where she doesn'thave to look like Meg Ryan to be worthy of desire, where a dream of romancesold to white girls can now be sold back (and bought, believed, fantasizedabout) by a brown girl. It's a feat to normalize a consistently othered face,and despite the critics' cries, Kaling knows that very well.

Follow Janaki on Twitter.

The Mindy Project airs on Tuesdays on Hulu.

An injury sustained by one of the young people allegedly tortured by Greek police in Athens. Photos by Panagiotis Medi

This article originally appeared on VICE Greece.

In front of Athens's Evelpidon courthouse, nine peoplemost of them minorsstood handcuffed and surrounded by police. You could clearly spot the wounds from their arrest the night before. Broken digits, baton marks on their bodies, smashed teeth, and black eyes. The mass arrest, which took place last Thursday evening, was spurred on by unidentified attackers hurling Molotov cocktails and stones at the police station in Exarcheia, injuring a police officer. Three of the accused were aged between 17 and 19 and the rest were under 17. One of them was only 13 years old.

On Friday morning, people had gathered outside the prosecutor's building to voice support and show their solidarity. Among them were the detainees' families, who were understandably outraged at the way their kids had been treated. Amidst the protestors, I met Antonia Legaki, a defense lawyer for one of the accused.

"After the attack on the police station, the Delta unit decided to carry out an operation in Exarcheia. There weren't even any Delta teams present at the station during the attack, so they can't possibly have seen the incident, but they were still the ones carrying out all the arrests. They basically pounced on any kid they found in Exarcheia," she said. "These kids have been abused. They were heavily beaten during their arrest. When the police officers handcuffed them, it was almost a form of torture."

She gave me some examples of the brutality: "The 13-year-old boy was handcuffed and laying in the street when four Delta members began beating him with batons. A beating that left him with both of his arms broken. We are talking about a kid who is barely five feet tall and weighs about 40 kilos . Now one of his arms is in a cast almost up to his shoulder," she explained. "Another example is my 19-year-old client. The police both stepped on his head and beat him with batons in the exact same spot, which only proves that these were 'methodical' beatings. There was clear intent to cause damage. Then, as they lifted him, one of the officers held him up while his colleague ran over his foot with a motorbike, breaking his big toe. They gave another boy a black eye, as you saw, and they broke a girl's hand. They broke the teeth of another minor by pushing the baton into his mouth."

Annie Paparousou, a lawyer representing one of the arrested, was also at Evelpidon.

"In this case, it's clear to see the unjustified mass arrests of minors. But worse than that is the fact that the defendants have been heavily abused during their arrest. Which means that they have been tortured for no reason. Torture is obviously a crime and the police should be prosecuted. The physical injuries these kids have sustained don't justify the alleged crimes they were arrested for," she said.

Those arrested on Thursday evening were taken to police headquarters before being allowed to go to the hospital. One of the arrested was denied seeing a doctor, seemingly because his injuries were less visible than others. "There isn't one child here who hasn't suffered harm and torture. We are talking about a co-ordinated action by Delta teams that operate in the same way as Latin American 'death squads.' They are trained to act like this," Legaki told me.

Related: Watch VICE's film 'Drag the Red' about the volunteers searching for bodies in Winnipeg's Red River

The arrests took place in several locations across Exarcheiaa neighborhood famous for being the Greek anarchists' stomping ground. Those arrested didn't even know each other.

"My client is accused of carrying Molotov cocktails in his backpack and throwing them at around 9:15 PM. All he had in his backpack was a map, three books by Brecht, and one by Oscar Wilde," Legaki told me. "He also had the receipt for the bookswhich was issued at 9:05 PM. So, one moment he was buying books in Amerikis Square, and a few minutes later he was allegedly throwing Molotov cocktails in Kallidromiou Street. That pretty much sums up just how ridiculous the arrests were."

Legaki concluded, "We have asked the prosecutor to investigate the case, to make an indictment and to fully investigate not only the physical injuries, but the accusations of torture as well."

The police's internal affairs bureau has since contacted the lawyers representing the accused to inform them that they're preparing a full case against the officers involved.

On Monday, two of the nine arrestees were told they were free to go. Despite this, they still have to check in at a police station twice a month.

The place where the two Afghans were foundat the Romanian borders with Hungary and Serbia.

This article originally appeared on VICE Romania.

Last week, a local newspaper reported that two Afghan refugees found themselves in the area surrounding Beba Vechea Romanian village near the borders of Serbia and Hungary. This was kind of a big deal for Romanians becausein contrast to central and southern European countries whose streets and train stations seem to be currently full of weary people who've just fled war and deathour country has yet to see any noticeable amounts of immigration. Engaging with the immigration crisis, struggling to contain it, and getting really angry about it all just like our Western sisters and brothers, would be a reason for Romanians to finally feel European. The whole country rejoiced.

On VICE News: In Photos: The People, Familiesand a CatWho Battled to Reach Europe

And then we found out that the two Afghans had ended up in Romania by mistake. Apparently, they were trying to get to Hungary via Serbia but took the wrong turn exactly where the Hungarian and the Romanian border meet, ending up in Beba Veche. The Romanian Border Police caught them three meters from the border, and told them they were in Romania. So they did what every Romanian does in his heart every time we come back from a trip to the West: They started crying. The whole country empathized.

Later, at the police station, the two Afghans were told they could not get into Hungary so they asked to be sent back to Serbia, instead of staying in Romania. Which is exactly what happened yesterday, based on the agreement of readmission between Serbia and our country. Romania had just missed its chance to receive its only refugees.

Not that the incident did anything to deter local authorities from zealously perfecting their hosting skills. At the beginning of this week, the Romanian Border Police performed a series of refugee reception exercises in the villages neighboring Serbia. They actually set up and then took down about 50 tents overnight to make sure they were prepared in case somebody ever came.

Additionally, the Romanian city of Trgovite (which isn't even near the border) has been preparing to receive 5,000 refugees since August; the Ministry of Internal Affairs is working on a bill that would impose stricter penalties on refugee traffickers and the Police are scouting for 6,000 new employees. "We are looking to up our resources in case there is a crisis situation," said the Romanian government's spokesperson, Corneliu Calot, in a press conference.

When asked, the local townspeople claimed to have no problem with refugees coming into their villages because none of them want to stay there. "They want to live in Sweden and Germany anyway," one guy said.

In another interview, a group of refugees in Budapest didn't even want to hear about moving to Romania because according to them the country is simply too poor.

Luckily for us, earlier in the month the European Union asked Romania to shelter 6,359 refugees. So we can still feel European.

Look at Anna Haifisch's art and comics at her website and Twitter.

All photos by Ryan Lowry

On Tuesday, TacoBell Cantina in Chicago officially opened its doors as the first Taco Bell inAmerica to serve alcohol. Over the course of a few hours thatnight, a few hundred customersfiltered through the new Wicker Park location of the fast-food chain, whichfeatured brightly colored alcoholic slushies and a noticeably more upscale andurban dcorexposed brick walls, loads of wood paneling, a graffiti muralmoreakin to a caf than your average drive-through fast-food restaurant.

Booze options included a line of "TwistedFreezes"named Mountain Dew Baja Blast (teal green), Cantina Punch (cherry red),and Cantina Margarita (neon green)that have rum, tequila, or vodka added in.Beer such as Dos Equis and wine were also available. The new location will openuntil 2 AM (4 AM on the weekends), and a security guard will be present on theweekends. With Starbucks serving alcohol at more than 70 locations and a San Francisco Taco Bell Cantina location opening soon, it seems part of a growing trend.

VICE sentphotographer Ryan Lowry to scope out the scene of people drinking and eating at Taco Bell.

VICE: Why do you like Taco Bell?
Neil Borkan, owner: I love Taco Bell. I've owned them for 30 years. I eat it everyday and love how innovative they are. I was able to collaborate on the idea for this one.

What are you drinking?
Baja Blast slushie with tequila.

Why do you want to drink at Taco Bell?
Gives people more options!

Why do you like Taco Bell?
Vincent Uribe: The choices are endless.

What are you drinking?
Baja Blast Freeze twist with rum.

Why do you want to drink at Taco Bell?
It's everything I ever dream about.

Why do you like Taco Bell?
Spencer Stucky: The Chipotle Chicken Loaded Griller has over two grams of dietary fiber.

What are you drinking?
I'm sipping someone's Baja Blast thing while they are not looking.

Why do you want to drink at Taco Bell?
I thought it was a drought.

Why do you like Taco Bell?
Kayla Lopez: Because I can scrap change up from my purse when I'm broke and get myself a meal.

What are you drinking?
A Baja Blast Freeze with tequila.

Why do you want to drink at Taco Bell?
Because a genius decided to put shots in Baja Blast Freezes.

What are you drinking?
Anna Mort: I'm drinking a virgin Baja Blast Freeze.

Why are you drinking at Taco Bell?
I don't want to drink at Taco Bell. I want to remember everything.

Why do you like Taco Bell?
Clay Cunningham: 'Cause it's cheap and good.

What are you drinking?
Frozen Baja Blast with Don Julio.

Why do you want to drink at Taco Bell?
Because it's a Baja blessing.

Why do you like Taco Bell?
Camille Rodriguez: I like Taco Bell because they are open late.

What are you drinking?
I am drinking a Cantina Punch slushie with a shot of tequila.

Why do you want to drink at Taco Bell?
I want to drink at Taco Bell because I guess I can now!

Steven and Paul.

Why do you like Taco Bell?
Jillian Kaye (left): They'll appease my pickiness and there's something for everyone.

What are you drinking?
Dos Equis.

Why do you want to drink at Taco Bell?
To keep the party going!

Why do you like Taco Bell?
Danielle Campbell (right): I like Taco Bell for its nostalgic irony.

What are you drinking?
Margarita twisty freeze thing.

Why do you want to drink at Taco Bell?
I want to drink at Taco Bell because what else are you supposed to do while eating tacos?

Why do you want to drink at Taco Bell?
: It's kind of a little guilty pleasure of mine.

What are you drinking?
Sangria slushie.

Why do you want to drink at Taco Bell?
Because it's a good spot to take a date.

What are you drinking?
Baja with vodka.

Why do you want to drink at Taco Bell?
Why wouldn't you?

What are you drinking?
Baja Blast with tequila.

Why do you want to drink at Taco Bell?
Drinking here is kind of a novelty and kind of expensive. I don't think I will ever get a slushie again. Probably just a beer.

Why do you like Taco Bell?
Steven: I don't.

What are you drinking?
Baja Blast with tequila.

Why do you want to drink at Taco Bell?
I don't.

Ryan Lowry is a photographer based in Chicago.

All screens courtesy of Rockstar Games

The recent gathering of The Warriors fans at Coney Island, where the cast of the 1979 movie showed up to sign stuff for people who'd been waiting in lines for twice the length of the film itself, was, to quote VICE's coverage, "kinda bleak." People wore appropriately branded vests for the occasion, and it rained on them. A costume contest was cancelled. Sick of It All played. Sounds shit.

A substantially less-sucky celebration of Walter Hill's cult-acclaim slice of highly stylized violence was Rockstar Games' October 2005-released video game adaptation of the movie, the sole movie license game the company's ever developed (although it did co-publish 2001's The Italian Job). It's a curious project that came out between the company kicking off its Red Dead series and its much-celebrated school-set sandbox adventure Canis Canem Edit, or Bully in the States. Picture Rockstar's output in your mind now and it's hard to think beyond the Grand Theft Auto games and, perhaps, Red Dead Redemption. L.A. Noire, and Max Payne 3 had their qualities, too; but it's GTA and its cowboy analogue that dominate public affections.

The Warriors was a hit for Rockstar though, despite the years separating movie from game. As time's passed, appreciation of Hill's film has grown. Its story isn't muchmembers of the titular New York gang must make it back to their home turf of Coney Island after a city-wide summit at Pelham Bay Park goes disastrously southbut uniquely relatable/despicable characters and sharp cinematography have kept fresh viewers glued as the decades have passed. By 2005, the film had belatedly become as big a student must-see as Trainspotting was almost a decade earlier, and so the game version benefitted from heightened public awareness. Profits for Rockstar ultimately ran into the tens of millions (of dollars), a drop in the ocean of GTA revenues, but still: better to be well inside the black than caught short in the red, whatever the costs.

The critical response at the time was positive, too. "It might just be the best game adaptation of a film ever, in terms of capturing the mood of the original movie," wrote Game Informer. The mooddark and gritty, filthy to the touch, everything bathed in a synth-edged soundtrackcertainly does transfer well. But for much of The Warriors, the game, you're not actually following the events of the film it's based on, which in turn was adapted from a 1965 Sol Yurick novel of the same name (which actually drew its inspiration from the Ancient Greek story Anabasis, where a troop of mercenaries must march home from waging war in Persia).

Rockstar puts you in control of a number of the Warriors in the weeks and months ahead of the movie's dramatic opening sequence. Eventually the story catches up to the gang's against-all-odds run for home, but a solid two-thirds of the game is plot-expanding material, exploring the relationships between the Warriors and rival factions in the run-up to Cyrus's invitation to unite. Complete stages and you unlock playable flashback missions that go deeper into the formation of the Warriors themselves. It's open-world, but not: each stage is a small sandbox area with both main and bonus objectives to tick off, sometimes violent and sometimes as simple as burning over rival tags. OK, often violent. The Warriors is a game that doesn't shy away from bloodying itself up against broken bottles and shafts of wood torn from broken fence panels.

In 2005, disbarred American attorney Jack Thompson was waging a one-man war against the apparent evils that Rockstar and parent company Take-Two was putting in front of young gamers. He unsuccessfully filed several suits in an attempt to prevent or heavily restrict the releases of a handful of Grand Theft Auto titles, Manhunt 2 and Bully, or simply to squeeze a company-busting amount of cash from the studio. But The Warriors appeared to bypass his misfiring radar of controversy. Which to me, having gone back this week and replayed a decent chunk of the game, appears a little odd.

The Grand Theft Auto games can get violent, of course, but there's much more to them than law breaking in its many and varied forms. In comparison, The Warriors positively revels in destruction, in physical assaults and vandalism, mayhem, and mugging, from the very start. Within minutes you, initially as the character Rembrandt, are beating up homeless drunks as "training" for what you'll face later in the game/on the streets. You need money to buy cans of spray paint, and the quickest way to get it is to assault a passer-by, grapple them into a state of unconsciousness, toss them against a dumpster and steal their wallet. Alternatively, smash your way into jewelry stores and make off with the merchandise, or break car windows to unscrew car stereos.

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The first hour of The Warriors teaches you these ropes, and kind of culminates in a blackout riot where members of other gangs mix it up with cops and storekeepers as trucks smoulder and windows shatter. (And some dude keeps on calling out for a seemingly very lost Maria. I don't know if she was ever found. Remember Maria, people, always.) Almost any NPCperhaps all of them, it's not like I triedcan be locked onto and attacked, from officers of the NYPD to the dude who sells you health bar-boosting "flash" (whatever it's meant to be, it's taken nasally). Combat is deeper than your standard button-masher, with a range of combos available via sequences on two face buttons, plus opponents can be grabbed for either pinning on the ground or pummeling in the face. If you're controlling one of the Warriors' senior members, commands can be issued to your gang, such as to wreak chaos, to attack everyone, to split or to simply follow the leader.

Once the basics are in place the game accelerates: more and more rivals are run into as the Warriors have to defend their reputation and protect their turf, which means wiping out a game-exclusive group, The Destroyers. And I don't just mean you disperse them: you beat the shit out of them, until bodies lie lifeless. Stealth sections become more frequent, too, as you creep up on enemies and chop them from behind to knock them out. The police presence only grows as the Warriors' rep does, so as greater challenges are faced, the law becomes more aggressive in its manner of protecting and serving. And it gets tough. The Warriors doesn't hold your hand like many modern equivalents do.

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And it also doesn't make things all that easy, controls wise. Playing on a PS2 (the game also came out for the original Xbox and Sony's PSP handheld), I found the stick sensitivity incredibly twitchy compared to how these sort of games are geared nowadaysa lot of time was accidentally spent rubbing my controllable Warrior up against a wall, and camera movement is also feels unnecessarily twitchy. When tagging over rival graffiti, the game requires that you steer a cursor using the left stick, along a "W" shape (which varies from spot to spot). Granted, there's no obvious easy way to do this, but with paint cans lasting barely ten seconds at a time, a couple of mistakes per tagand it's easy to stray from the linecan really screw up bonus objectives in some levels. Checkpointing isn't brilliant either, and the autosave dumps you back at the beginning of any given stage, regardless of how much progress you made prior to having to switch your console off.

If the game can be fiddly though, to return to an earlier point, its presentation is top notch, even by modern standards. Atmospherically, The Warriors is great, and while it can look pretty muddy at times, textures rough about their edges to say the least, remember this is a PS2 gameby my reckoning, it's pushing the console pretty far versus something like San Andreas, which was frequently an ugly experience made bearable by, well, everything but its visuals. Radio broadcasts are full of period tunes, and the DJ reports on the incidents of the previous stage while the Warriors are hanging out at their safehouse. Plenty of the original cast returned to play their characters again, too, lending a greater connection between movie and game than almost any other licensed tie-in.

Roger Hill, who played Cyrus in the film, was not invited to participate though, and subsequently filed a lawsuit for quarter of a million dollars against Rockstar and Take-Two for use of his voice and image without permission. Take-Two responded by confirming their possession of a valid third-party license. It isn't clear from a spell of internet searching how the suit was settled, but Hill died in 2014.

Should you (come out to) play The Warriors, ten years on? If you're into investigating the lesser-known releases in the Rockstar catalogue, absolutely. It's easy to see how this is the work of the same studio that made GTA and Bully, while its linearity in comparison to those more traditional sandbox games, akin to how Max Payne 3 unfolded, ensures that the story remains the focus. And if you're a big fan of the movie, giving this the once-through is a no-brainer: It's the prequel that there never was and never will be on the silver screen. And much like the film, it's now crystallized as a single entity, as no sequel is likely to follow. Rockstar toyed with a spiritual follow-up, a game set in 1960s England called We Are the Mods, but that ultimately came to nothing.

The Liberty City of Grand Theft Auto IV was New York through a sardonic lens, the urban sprawl as a contorted cartoon, grey and grim but drawn in thick lines, detail lost in the need to deliver recognizable landmarks to an international crowd. The Warriors' New York, actually made by Rockstar's Toronto team, is equally gritty, but strangely feels realer than many a modern-day open-world game, its environments scarred by poverty, neighborhoods yet to become as gentrified as they are now. If this was out now, on a contemporary console, it'd be shiner, crisper, HD. Because of the PS2's graphical limitations, The Warriors is played in murk, constant shadow, making every block seem like a threat. The format suits the fiction, perfectly. Can you dig it? You really should, you know.

Follow Mike Diver on Twitter.

The lives of the one percentthe richest of the richhave always been a subject of fascination for Americans. There's something oddly satisfying about peering into the sumptuous, sometimes hard-to-believe lifestyles of the ultra-wealthy. But what happens when they die?

In her newly released memoir Good Mourning, Elizabeth Meyer chronicles her career at an Upper East Side funeral home, serving clientele in the one percent. (Her publisher describes the book as "Gossip Girl meets Six Feet Under.") Meyer's father was a wealthy Manhattan lawyer who died from cancer while she was in college, and rather than leaving the funeral arrangements to older family members, she capitalized on her event-planning experience to plan his final send-off. Not long after, she decided to seek a career in death care.

In the book, Meyer speaks frankly about the challenges of working in the funeral industry, especially in a place geared toward lavish, expensive, and over-the-top funerals. Meyer's familiarity with Manhattan high society came in handy when interacting with the high-powered clientele, and she got a crash course in navigating some very tricky situations, like making final arrangements for a man with two widows who only found out about each other after he died.

I spoke with Meyer to see what it was like working in the place where John Lennon, Jackie Onassis, Heath Ledger, and Philip Seymour Hoffman all had their funerals.

VICE: Your first exposure to working with death was volunteering to plan your father's fairly high profile funeral while still in college. What was that like?
Elizabeth Meyer: I planned his funeral, yes. My dad died when I was a junior in college on spring break. It was jazz music going in, and rock-n-roll at the end. There was an after party and people came up to me and said, 'This is going to sound completely strange, and I can't believe these words are coming out of my mouth, but could you plan my funeral when the time comes?'

I wasn't fully lucid because it was a difficult time, but in the back of my mind I thought, 'Hold on. I want to be able to do this for people.' At first it didn't start as a business, but then I thought if these people want it, then surely others want it too.

Some people might be surprised to find out that the place you worked sold a $90,000 casket. And for one of the funerals you worked on, the total bill came out to $150,000. Was that one the most expensive?
I believe so. It's hard to keep track of numbers. I just remember constantly being in shock. The average funeral in America costs between $7,000 and $10,000. Even that, to me, is a lot of money. And multiplied tenfold? I think what always took me is the amount of money that was spent. Because if you say to someone they're going to spend $70,000, . If you have approval and you don't have anyone opposing it, then it's just a life stage.

Did you have families that requested a photographer?
We did, actually. We had a large international clientele. I was working before video conferencing was as easy as it is today. You couldn't Facetime a casket back then. A lot of Filipinos would take pictures for family that couldn't make it. It was just the last picture, and they would send it to family members. It was completely respectful. Why not? For me, it's a level of comfort with death that I'm game for.

Having worked in a high-end funeral home and also consulting with other funeral homes around the country, do you have any advice to give the general public?
Everybody should pre-arrange. And depending on what state you live in, you should pre-pay. If you live in New York state, it's one of the top three protected states. If you go about it correctly, it's a fabulous investment. Funerals can double in cost in ten years, and if you pre-pay you can lock in the price. I'm a big believer in pre-paying in New York, but I just warn people to make sure their money is safe. But definitely, get your wishes known. There is no harm in that whatsoever.

Follow Simon Davis on Twitter.

Photo via Flickr user SuperFantastic

Within a few hours of my last trip to Vancouver, I knew I was home.

It wasn't because I gazed up to catch the glorious peaks of Grouse Mountain, or because I took a sandy stroll along English Bay or because I was suddenly inundated by the scent of skunk and/or skunky weed. No, it was because I was treated to bitch face after bitch facethe active kindthe second I lit up a cigarette.

British Columbians are terrible smokers. And by that I mean, they just don't do it. Hand Vancouverites a bowl of green (crack works too), and they're down. Tobacco aficionados, on the other hand, are akin to lepers. Over the years, both the province and city have cracked down on smoking to the point where it is now effectively banned everywhere.

In the city of Vancouver, smoking is forbidden at parks (and their parking lots), public beaches, golf courses, along the seawall, on patios, within six metres of any entryways including windows, outside of building air intakes, and inside cars if someone 16 or younger is present. Other municipalities in the province have taken similar measures. (Much to my disappointment, Toronto enacted a bylaw this past summer making it illegal to smoke on patios. You can still smoke like a foot away from where your friends are sitting, but if there's an enclosure of some sort, you gotta be on the outside of it.)

Residential buildings in BC are also following suit, designating themselves as "smoke free."

Paul Aradi thought he was safe. The 70-year-old veteran has been sucking back nicotine and tar for half a century. He bought his Langley unit 10 years ago, but in 2009, his condo board passed a rule banning smoking inside common areas and suites. Aradi's response to that rule has pretty much been: GFY. He's continued to smoke in his suiteat the rate of a pack and a half every two daysand as such, has been the subject of multiple complaints to his board. He's also racked up more than $11,000 in fines, which he hasn't paid, nor has he ceased smoking. I repeat: this man gives zero fucks.

But Aradi, who was wounded while acting as a peacekeeper in Cyprus, was forced into action when his meddling condo board filed a Supreme Court petition this month asking a judge to order him not to smoke in his suite.

" is causing and creating a significant nuisance and disturbance for the strata owners," says the petition, which goes on to lament whiffs of stale cigs in the hallway and the dangers of secondhand smoke. It also claims that Aradi could fall asleep while lighting up and that's a fire hazard. (So is cooking. I know from experience.)

Due to mobility issues, Aradi can't easily get outside to smoke, which is why he stays in his suite. He thinks his strata council is trying have him kicked him out of the building.

"They want to get rid of me," he told reporters. He's filed a counter-petition in Supreme Court and a complaint with the Human Rights Tribunal arguing that his nicotine addiction is a disability for which he's being discriminated against.

Aradi is a hero for oppressed smokers everywhere.

Here's a man who literally took a bullet in the name of freedom and he can't even enjoy a goddamn cigarette in his own home? Admittedly I love smokingit tastes delicious and offers a break in the day when there otherwise wouldn't be one. I also understand that it kills, smells gross, causes cancer, etc. But bottom line is it's still fucking legal. In fact, the feds make a shitload of cash by taxing tobacco$700 million in 2014 alone.

As for the much touted second-hand smoke argument, is it really relevant in this case? Research shows the impact of second-hand smoke on nonsmokers is negligible in places like parks and beaches. So it's hard to believe that Aradi, smoking in his apartment with no one else around, poses a health risk to others in his building. More likely, his neighbours are worried about how the smell of smoke will impact their property values.

Aradi's lawyer Paul Roxburgh said the issue boils down to human rights.

"What foundation do they have to say 'it's your home and we're going to forbid you smoking in it'?"

As for BC's anti-smoking crusade, "It's fascist," he told VICE.

I tend to agree.

Aradi's petition will likely be heard in Supreme Court in November. With any luck, he'll be successful, and for a change his nosy neighbours will be forced to butt out. (Sorry, couldn't resist!)

Follow Manisha Krishnan on Twitter.

To think: this could be Mason Dunn, if his school cared about him. Photo via Flickr user Vaping360

Read: The Veteran Fighting BC's Anti-Smoking 'Fascists' in Supreme Court Is a Hero

A British mom (er, mum) is extremely pissed off because her teenage son has been banned from vaping at school to satisfy his 10-cigarette-a-day addiction.

Sue Dunn of Manchester said she's tried everything to get her 14-year-old son Mason to quit smoking, including nicotine patches and medical assistance, but "nothing worked."

Finally, Mason's older brother bought him an e-cigarette, which has helped the youngster curb his half-a-pack-a-day habit.

"He has really made an effort," Dunn told Metro UK.

But when the barely-pubescent Mason, who attends Kearsley Academy, started vaping on school grounds, his wet blanket teachers were quick to confiscate his e-cig.

"I went into school and explained the situation but was told it is against the school policy," said Dunn, who seemed surprised by the academic institution's smoke-free designation. "He came home from school in a terrible state because he needed nicotine."

Suzanne Pountain, principal at Kearsley Academy, told the media the school is "a no smoking site."

"For the safeguarding of all our students, smoking, including the use of any nicotine inhalation devices are not allowed," she said.

"We offer students access to the school nurse and if necessary, pathways such as the smoke cessation programme."

For the record, Dunn said she's "not happy about the fact smokes in the first place," but she believes vaping should be allowed as it could prevent cancer in the long-run.

Follow Manisha Krishnan on Twitter.

The author's baby

I gotta tell you, I'm not a big fan of baby clothes. Way toomany colors and patterns, hella bows and ribbons, extraneous straps andbuttons, none of the shit matches any of the other shit and half the shit don'teven match itself. It's loud as fuck, like 30 different shades of pink and 20different powder blues. Corny little jokes on the t-shirtit's like calm down,dude, what is this clown ass garbage you're trying to sell me? You want my babyto look like a damn fool?

People be like "Who cares? It's a baby, throw some garbageass joke t-shirt on it." Naw, fuck that. Drape your baby in vintage Polo. Getyour baby some Flyknits and couture yoga pants to wear in the VIP section ofwhatever bootsy festival is poppin' in town. Your baby's Jordans should befresher than yours. Your baby knows what to do in those thingsthe fuck youknow how to do? Not pull out, that's for damn sure. I feel like people betaking advantage of the fact that a baby is too polite to tell you that onesieyou bought them is weak as fuck.

Also, you don't have to throw some raggedy, wrinkly ass bow on ashirt just to let fools know it's a girl or put hella trucks on some shorts tomake sure everybody knows it's a dude. Are you seriously that nervous that somerandom stranger on the street might not know what genitalia this tiny,barely-formed human being has? Who the fuck cares?

As far as brands go, I'm not mad at The Gap (never thought I'dsay that). They have some mellow, low key, simple shit for a baby. The Baby GapI believe they call it. Also nice: Zara. Carter's go hard too. It's madeespecially for babies but it's not on some clown shit. Uh, what else... Gucci,Prada, Louis Vuitton, Chanel, Calvin Klein, Ferragamo, Fendi, Armani... all thatshit go pretty hard. Get your baby a tiny Rolex, the baby will wake up at sixin the morning on the dot, pointing to the tiny little Roly like, "Look,the second hand don't even tick, bruh. It glide."

Swing by the Mishka store get the baby some jeans and maybe atank top. Get the baby a tiny fitted cap with your local sports team. Or maybea tiny snapback. Get the baby an XXXL Adult White T and an XXXL Adult Black Tfrom the corner store. Get the baby a FUBU sweatsuit and a Triple 5 Soul buckethat. Get the baby a throwback Rocawear velour number. Get the baby a Hierobeanie. Get the baby a Tommy Hilfiger windbreaker. Get the baby a Cross Coloursletterman or maybe a Members Only jacket, I hear they're catching a third orfourth wind. I also heard Rodarte is having another moment, but who knows? Takethe baby to Opening Ceremony. Cop some rare Highland gear. Get the baby in some couture sweatpants. Get it atiny wave cap (colloquially, du-rag) so the rows don't fray overnight. Give thebaby tiny sweatbands so it looks sporty. Give the baby girl red bottoms earlyto set the bar high for the next little crop of rich boy rappers. Get the babyin them Bad Gyal Ri Ri Puma creepers. She'll be throwing Ghetto Gothik partiesat daycare. Get some Alexander Wang and Marc Jacobs for the baby. Can't gowrong with Baby HBA and Baby Bape. Buy some tiny Dolce & Gabbana.

Makea baby fashion mood board with keywords like "rogue," "fierce,""ingnue," "1968," "Futurism," "Ivy,""Balayage," "Moon Stone," etc. Notice lighting. Thebuilding is garment for space. A garment is an envelope for a love letter inthe form of human being. Pick up a copy of BabywearDaily. Is that a thing? Tried to google it but I'm not getting internetright now. Pick up a copy of Baby Vogue.Fashion is beyond the garment, fashion is an attitude. Consider half-chewedpieces of banana as accessories. Hand dye a couple t-shirts with berry juice.Get creative with it. A baby needs a mean walk. Watch Prt--Porter on mute while listening to Ini Kamoze.

So in conclusion: it's fashion, baby. Play with it, darling. Have some fun. Just refuse to dress your baby like trash. This is important. The baby needs to look fly if it's gona be fly, feel me? If you need some examples, check out @kool_days on Instagram. That's my daughter, styled by her mom, @cultdays, who also made a few of those pieces the baby's wearing. If you see anything you like, feel free to hit her up but her prices are steep cause this is couture. It's fashion, baby.

Follow Kool A.D. on Twitter.

Earlier this month over at VICE UK, Philip Kleinfeld debunked a bunch of the internet's most potent disinformation about Syrian refugees. But it turns out you can use the quick and dirty superimposition of images and text we call "memes" to disparage Muslims in general, not just Syrians.

So when former pediatric neurosurgeon turned v chill presidential candidate Ben Carson told Meet the Press on Sunday, "I would not advocate that we put a Muslim in charge of this nation. I absolutely would not agree with that," and then claimed that as a result of his comments money was being donated to his campaign coffers "so fast, it's hard to even keep up with it," we started wondering what's happening over on Islamophobic Facebook. Short answer: the quick and dirty superimposition of images and text we call "memes" used to disparage Muslims in general.

MUSLIM BROTHERHOOD MEMBERS ARE INFILTRATING THE GOVERNMENT

Image via TheCommonSenseShow.com

This little fact sheet of sorts was created in conjunction with a report published by the Investigative Project on Terrorism, a lobby group founded by discredited anti-islam pundit Steven Emerson. The article, by John Rossomando, is not in any way credible. It simply recites the claims of an admittedly unsourced, rumor-mongering Egyptian magazine story. There's no reason to assume there's a shred of truth to this.

Feminism Is Backsliding In Muslim Countries

Image via Facebook

As westerners, some of us assume all women who wear burqas or niqabs are "repressed." If you actually ask them about these outfits, some do call it "a kind of punishment," but others choose to wear them. Just the fact that they're worn doesn't mean women are disappearing.

There are about 49 "Lands of Islam," and that list includes countries where women have recently achieved a great deal. Gender equality is still a long way off in many of these places, but women recently surpassed men in terms of college enrollment in places like Kuwait, Qatar, United Arab Emirates, Palestine, Lebanon, Saudi Arabia, and Jordan. Meanwhile, women in Saudi Arabia are just now registering to vote for the first time in the lead-up to the 2015 election. Voting is a basic right to be sure, but the point is, it's an improvement.

The Muslim Conquest Was Worse Than the Crusades

The Crusades, a series of Christian war campaigns against Muslims during the middle ages, killed about three million people. But if that makes you feel bad, look at the image above and take solace in the fact that the concurrent Muslim Conquest was way worse, geographically speaking.

But in the long run, where seizing territory is concerned, Christianity wins. Nearly the entire New Worldincluding North and South Americawas settled by Christians, beginning with almost exclusively Christian aims that quickly turned before things got bloody. A map of the whole world color-coded by religion tells a very different story than the highly shareable map above does.

But if you limit your comparison to a small 200-year window in the history of Islam and Christianity, yes, the Muslim Conquest covered more area than the Crusades.

Muslim Doctrine Is Unconstitutional

This is one of the rare anti-Islam graphics on Facebook that actually uses Impact, also known as "the meme font." Then it ruins its status as one of the dankest of memes by using some lame mystery font to invite people to fact check it.

I'll save you some time: Yes, the Hadith and Quran forbid free speech and freedom of religion. They're religious texts. That's what religious texts do; they tell you what not to say, and that you're not allowed to have other religions.

For comparison, two of the Ten Commandments are "Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain," and "Thou shalt have no other gods before me." That means the Bible forbids freedom of speech and freedom of religion, too. Also, the whole stonings for small crimes thing prescribed by Leviticus doesn't jibe too well with the eighth amendment's ban on cruel and unusual punishment.

Only Muslims Hold Up Severed Heads

Yes, ISIS beheadings drew a lot of much-deserved disgust earlier this year, but posting something on Facebook implying that Islamic extremism holds some kind of monopoly on that particular method of execution is just plain stupid.

Beheadings by non-Muslims are happening on multiple continents. The ongoing strife in the Central African Republic, just to name one example, has involved local Christian militia members trying to quash Muslim uprisings that involved drafting child soldiers, so militia strategies as recently as last year included the beheading of children.

If you need an example you can actually see, look no further than Mexico, where you can watch (link is to a graphic beheading video) members of the Zetas drug cartel behead a member of a rival gang, and, yep, triumphantly hold up the head like a trophy.

Muslim Countries Aren't Taking in Refugees

The affluent Persian Gulf countries are catching shit here for not taking in any of the refugees fleeing the war in Syria. That's not because they're just dicks. Gulf countries like Saudi Arabia don't offer refugee status. They're chock full of Syrian people who fled the war, though. Saudi Arabia alone says it has taken in 2.5 million Syrians during the civil war, and the United Arab Emirates have taken in over 160,000 Syrians since 2012, according to The New York Times.

Ahmed the Clock Kid Is an Extremist

Above is an image that really is being passed around by right-wing bloggers in their diatribes against Ahmed the Clock Kid, and on Twitter. In case you haven't been following this story, Ahmed Mohamed is a 14-year-old kid in Irving, Texas who either (a) built a clock from scratch, and deserved an A+, or (b) made a clock out of existing clock parts to get a rise out of his overreacting teacher. He is not, as the above image would have you believe, a suicide bomber thirsting for the blood of innocent Americans.

Follow Mike Pearl on Twitter.

Photo via the Game of Thrones Wiki

Read: What It Would Take for Donald Trump to Build the Great Wall of America

Illegal immigration scares the shit out of America. While alarge part of that fear is usually directed at Mexico, a pollreleased by Bloomberg on Thursday found that a growing number of US citizensdon't really trust our neighbors to the north, either.

In the survey, 41 percent of people questioned said we shouldbuild a "brick-and-mortar" wall between the US and Mexicoand while we're atit, put one up along the Canadian border, too. It's a line of logic that ScottWalker, who just bowed out of the Republican race for president, expressedinterest in before closing up his campaign on Monday.

JorgeRamos already did a pretty good job of unpacking why the idea of building aphysical wall along the US-Mexico border doesn't make any goddamn sense, and a US-Canada wall doesn't really, either. Customs and Border Protection estimatesthe cost of constructing such a wall at about $16 million per mile. At thatrate, it'd cost more than $60 billion to board up the 3,987 miles the US shareswith Canada.

Still, according to Bloomberg's survey, four in tenAmericans are prepared to do whatever it takes to keep foreigners from robbing us of our precious jobs, nomatter what end of the border they're pouring in from.

"If you cut off one, they're going to come in the otherway," a Trump supporter toldBloomberg. "It's desolate up there in some places on the Canadian borderand they've gotta do something up there to stop them from coming in."

'National Lampoon.' Photo courtesy of Magnolia Pictures

The best line in Drunk Stoned Brilliant Dead, a new documentary detailing the pioneering days of the National Lampoon, is a widely distributed remark about the death of one of the magazine's co-founders, Douglas Kenney, who fell off a cliff in Hawaii in 1980 at the age of 33. Of unknown provenance (here it is attributed to Lampoon writer Chris Miller, but it also could have been Harold Ramis, or maybe even Saturday Night Live writer Michael O'Donoghue), it goes like this: "He probably fell while he was looking for a better place to jump." Short, steely, and acidly funny, that's as good an indicator as any of the nihilistic goofiness that was at the heart of what proved to be one of the great movements in American comedy.

Founded in 1969 by Harvard graduates Kenney, Henry Beard, and Robert Hoffman as a national spinoff to the ancient campus humor magazine Harvard Lampoon (which began in 1876), the first issue of National Lampoon arrived in the spring of 1970, gaining in popularity throughout the first half of the decade and peaking at a national circulation of a million copies in late 1974. (The last issue ran in November '98, but the magazine had been culturally dead since the mid 80s.) The Lampoon's legacy mainly consists now of the movies Animal House and National Lampoon's Vacation; the careers of Chevy Chase, John Belushi, Bill Murray, Ramis, and others associated with the early days of SNL; and a 1973 magazine cover of a dog with a gun to his head next to the words "If You Don't Buy This Magazine, We'll Kill This Dog."

"We analyzed it as the shift from Jewish humor, which is essentially defensive and a shield against the world, to Irish humor, which is a weapon and a sword. Our actual term for it back then was we have gone from 'Fuck me' to 'Fuck you.'"
P. J. O'Rourke

In its day, the Lampoon was genuinely boundary-pushing, for better and for worse, a killer of sacred cows in an era when there still sacred cows to kill. Their bits including "Canadathe Retarded Giant at your Doorstep"; a radio spot about torturing Ed Sullivan; a True Boys' Life magazine cover with a group of Boy Scouts happily circle-jerking around a campfire; a photo-narrative of an alt-history Hitler lookalike living happily on a tropical island in the Caribbean; a 69-cent stamp for feminine hygiene sprays; Eloise scrawling her name in trademark pink across the mirror of a seedy downtown bathroom; a child's letter to Heinrich Himmler ("How do you get all those people in your oven? We can hardly get a roast pork in ours.").

On MUNCHIES: Action Bronson's Baklava Milkshake Is True Romance

"Really good humoris saying the thing which is true which you would do anything to deny is true,"says a young P. J. O'Rourke in Drunk Stoned Brilliant Dead,who joined the magazine in 1971 before becoming editor-in-chief in the late 70s.That feels right, and was certainly a major part of the magazine's philosophical non-agenda. An effective parody tastes authentic, and even at itsnastiest the Lampoon was grounded ina sensibility that was as human as it was perverted. It's about finding theshared experiences that make up human connection, and the best of that todayThe Onion, Clickhole, Key & Peele, John Oliverare more polished continuations of the work that the Lampoon was doing 40 years ago.

"National Lampoon came out of a vein ofAmerican humor that hadn't been in the ascendant in 50 some years, which wasthe vicious vein," said O'Rourke, when I spoke to him last week over the phone."We analyzed it as the shift from Jewish humor, which is essentially defensiveand a shield against the world, to Irish humor, which is a weapon and a swordnotthat we were all Irish, and none of us were Jewish. Our actual term for it backthen was we have gone from 'Fuck me' to 'Fuck you.'"

Although the drivingforces behind that middle finger were founders Beard (who left the magazineshortly before he turned 30, taking a $2.8 million buyout in 1975), and Kenney,the head editors during the magazine's most critically and financiallysuccessful period, it's Kenney's narrative arc that frames the documentary andlends heft to the titular claims. He was notoriously troubled, and his excesseswere as well noted as his brilliancies. He contributed larger swathes of themagazine than any other writer and co-wrote Animal House and Caddyshack.He also loved cocaine and dropped acid, once abruptly fleeing Manhattan and theLampoon to Martha's Vineyard, wherehe spent months tripping and writing an unpublished novel called TeenageCommies from Outer Space.

On VICE: Comedian Andre Arruda Gets Hit by a Car:

In the late summerof 1980, Chevy Chase took Kenney to Kauai, Hawaii, in a gesture of mentalconvalescence, and the most poignant moment of the documentary occurs whenChase describes a practical joke he played on his friend. Here's the setup:Chase goes to Kenney's room (they're both staying on the 15th floor of a Hawaiianhotel) and tells him that he's depressed, he just can't take it anymore. ThenChase goes back to his own room, taking off his boots and placing them by theterrace before mimicking the sound of someone screaming as if falling, orjumping. He quickly hides before a panicked Kenney comes running in. "And for asecond he really actually looked."

Eventually Chase had to return to themainland for work, and for a short period Kenney's longtime partner KathrynWalker joined him before she also had to leave. They found Kenney's body onAugust 30, 1980, at the base of a 30-foot cliff called the Hanapepe Lookout.Chase told Rolling Stone that hefound in Kenney's hotel room, amidst a large pile of notes for jokes and movieideas, was a receipt with the line "These last few days were the happiest I'veever ignored" scribbled on the back.

Two months ago P. J.O'Rourke wrote a piece for The HollywoodReporter titled "How I Killed 'National Lampoon,'" prompted by therelease of Vacation, looselyaffiliated with the 1983 NationalLampoon's Vacation. (How exactly he offed the Lampoon he doesn't really say, except that he happened to be theone left in charge after all the talent left for Saturday Night Live or Hollywood.) I haven't seen Vacation, and I do not want to, ever;Richard Roeper wrote in the Chicago Sun-Times that "it's a vile, odious disaster populated withunlikable, dopey characters bumbling through mean-spirited set pieces that relyheavily on slapstick fight scenes, scatalogical sight gags, and serialvomiting." When the Lampoon was greatit was great, and there was an intelligence behind all the cock and cum humor thatwas outrageous and maybe offensive but also smarter than the outrageous andoffensive stuff that makes up every second of everyday life. Sad things can befunnydisgusting things can be funny toobut it's hard to find joke in thedumb, vapid, or sloppily repackaged.

Anyone who claims to understand "how" "comedy" "works" is probably lying, a fool, or both, and while I certainly wouldn't presume to know shit about what makes people laugh I will say this: There is some element of honesty to the stuff that is good and that endures. I doubt anyone at the Lampoon would ever admit to anything remotely as sentimental as that, but there's something indirectly genuine here, as if they had fallen into it while looking for whatever the next most incendiary and debased thing could be.

Cody Wiewandt is a writer living in New York.

Drunk Stoned Brilliant Dead opensin theaters today.