The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
the fool-side
Thursday, March 31, 2016 — 3B

By BEN ROSENSTOCK and 

NATALIE ZAK

Senior Arts Editor and

Daily Community Culture Editor

Editor’s Note: All names have 

been changed to vague character 
descriptions to protect the identity 
and privacy of all individuals who 
participated in these interviews. 
Except Shelby. Shelby didn’t care.

In an independent bookstore 

popular among both students 
and 
locals, 
there 
exists 
an 

exclusive club unbeknownst to 
all but a select few students at the 
University of Michigan.

When they aren’t spending 

their 
days 
poring 
over 
the 

written 
works 
of 
Nietzsche 

and Rimbaud, Michigan’s most 
ardent anarchists gather in this 
off-campus location and prepare 
themselves for an evening of 
pure, unadulterated aggression. 
Punches and kicks are thrown, 
blood runs rampant and casual 
conversation 
ensues 
amongst 

members 
every 
Sunday 
and 

Wednesday night after the sun 
sets and the streets clear.

This is the University’s Fight 

Club, an organization absent from 
the University’s MaizePages and 
governed by seven imperative 
rules:

1. You don’t talk about Fight 

Club.

2. You DO NOT talk about 

Fight Club.

3. If someone says “stop,” taps 

out or decides to take a refreshing 
water break, the fight is over.

4. One fight at a time. There is 

limited space so we can’t destroy 
the premises or else we’ll have to 
go through the rounds of finding 
a new location. And we all know 
how long that took last time. I’m 
looking at you, Shelby.

5. No shoes, no jewelry and 

no children under the age of 13.

6. Fights will go on as long 

as they have to. Unless they last 
longer than five hours. No one 
wants to be here that long.

7. If this is your first time at 

Fight Club, you HAVE to fight. If 
it’s your second, then here, enjoy a 
blueberry scone.

The president of the club, 

like all of its members, only 
agreed to be interviewed on the 
condition that his identity remain 
anonymous. When asked about 
his year and major for this article, 
he referred to himself as both 
an LSA senior and a sophomore 
in the Stamps School of Art & 
Design.

“It’s kind of the first rule of 

Fight Club. You can’t talk about 
it,” Anonymous President said in 
an interview with The Michigan 
Daily.

So Daily Arts spoke to him 

about it. Having experienced a 
dramatic decline in membership 
over the past school year, Fight 
Club has been forced to abandon 
their 
holiest 
commandments 

in 
their 
desperation 
for 

fresh, 
unbloodied 
faces. 
As 

an 
organization 
completely 

independent from the University, 
membership is imperative.

“Every week, someone is in 

charge of snacks and someone 
else has to lead the recovery 
meditation and yoga session,” 
Anonymous Member with Nose 
Ring said, wiping the blood from 
his nose and reaching for a scone. 
“We’re 
all 
about 
teamwork, 

seeing as we’re entirely self-
funded.”

“We 
originally 
started 

organizing here because the 
owner was generous enough to 
provide refreshments at their 
one-of-a-kind cafe,” Unibrow-
Sporting Anonymous Member 
added as she dodged a swing from 
an oncoming student, took a kick 
to the groin and went crashing to 
the floor.

The club was first invented by 

Anonymous President in the fall 
of 2012.

“I originally got the idea from 

a Chuck Palahniuk book,” he said. 
“You should really check it out. 
It’s called ‘Lullaby.’ ”

Over the years, the University’s 

Fight Club has morphed and 
changed with its membership. 
Beginning as a Pink Floyd cover 
band in Anonymous President’s 
father’s garage, the club initially 
included three other members 
besides A.P. himself: Anonymous 
Drummer, Anonymous Guitarist 

and Anonymous Tambourinist.

“First, we were all about 

the music — it was electric,” 
Anonymous President said. “But 
when (Anonymous Guitarist) got 
electrocuted plugging in the amp 
one day, everything changed. 
We’d never seen anything like it. 
After that near-death experience, 
all we wanted to do was recreate 
that feeling of terror, of energy.”

It wasn’t until Anonymous 

Tambourinist 
took 
a 
swing 

at 
Anonymous 
Guitarist 
for 

suggesting that “maybe he should 
turn down his mic, and maybe 
take a few steps back, and then 
a few more” that the ragtag 
group of students realized what 
they were searching for — pure, 
unadulterated aggression.

And from there, it took off. 

Four members soon became three 
after losing Anonymous Guitarist 
to the Ross School of Business, 
and for a moment the creators 
considered 
giving 
up. 
Then, 

membership began to soar.

“I’m still not completely sure 

how people found out about it, 
but people just started to show 
up to my dad’s house on Thursday 
nights,” Anonymous President 
said. “I think most of them 
were trying to get back to North 
Campus, but when they saw us 
beating each other up, they sort of 
just joined in.”

Hospital fees and eviction 

hit the fledgling group like a 
bombshell, however, and they 
were forced out onto the streets. 

It was during this time that the 
bitterness started to creep up on 
the members, as the Ann Arbor 
Police Department repeatedly 
intervened in their fights in the 
middle of the Diag.

Officer Hoffman, a firsthand 

witness to the early meetings 
of the group, was reluctant to 
divulge information.

“It was a mess,” Hoffman said. 

“They were gathering anywhere 
they could — the UGLi, the 
Diag, Meijer, the First United 
Methodist Church of Ann Arbor. 
It was all we could do to get them 
off campus before they developed 
political stances.”

And develop political stances, 

they did.

Enraged by the “disrespect 

and dismissal” of the Ann Arbor 
Police 
Department, 
Division 

of Public Safety and Security 
and Neighborhood Watch, The 
Periwinkle 
Sandal 
(a 
name 

elected by early members of 
UMFC) took to the streets with 
their rage, painting pink circle-As 
all over Ann Arbor.

“It was meant to cause an 

outrage, but we messed up,” 
Anonymous 
Member 
with 

Sunglasses said, lying in a pool 
of his own blood. “The As were 
painted too closely together, 
and 
people 
just 
thought 
it 

was 
community 
pride. 
We 

accidentally created a brand.”

So they took to the basements, 

bars and ditches that would 
support their violent endeavors. 
Their punches and kicks revealed 
the students’ pent-up rage that 
mostly stemmed from suspended 
bitterness 
toward 
roommates 

who 
“wouldn’t 
load 
their 

goddamn dishes,” as Anonymous 
Member with a Rope Braid 
Headband described.

“It’s not like I’m asking her 

to go to a river, stick it in and 
wash it with some leaves,” he 
said as Anonymous Member 
with 
Crackle 
Nail 
Polish 

understandingly 
wrapped 
an 

arm around his shoulder. “Just 
place it on a rack and close the 
door. It’s so simple, and I feel like 
if she can’t respect her coffee 
mugs, how will she ever respect 
me as a long-term partner in this 
relationship?”

“Over the years, our mission 

statement 
has 
definitely 

evolved,” Anonymous Member 
with Crackle Nail Polish said. 
“Therapy plays a larger part than 
it did before. Adrenaline was the 
focus when it first formed, but as 
years progressed, a couple heroin 

addictions caused the dismissal 
of certain members and — let’s 
say we found a new direction.”

Initially an all-male group in 

the early years, UMFC strove for 
and achieved gender inclusivity 
with this new direction. Rules 
that were originally scrawled on 
two broken tombstones found 
in the Bob and Betty Beyster 
Building by one of the members 
were 
finally 
revisited 
and 

thought about in a broader, more 
politically correct context.

“Originally it was ‘No shirt, no 

shoes’ but, for obvious reasons, 
we changed it to ‘No shoes, no 
jewelry,’” Anonymous Member 
with Crackle Nail Polish said. 
“People kept bringing barbed 
wire and calling it jewelry. 
There’s only so many tetanus 
shots we can afford to cover.”

Another issue came when 

Shelby, an LSA junior, brought 
her 8-year-old brother Joshua to 
one of the meetings.

“Of course we weren’t going 

to say anything to her face — her 
parents are going through a rough 
divorce,” Anonymous Member 
with Crackle Nail Polish said. 
“The little guy came and watched 
the whole meeting, and when he 
just loved it we were all a little 
relieved. But then, the next week 
was Festifall, and that’s when shit 
went down.”

“Festifall 2014,” Anonymous 

President said. “Boy, was that a 
day. I remember walking through 
the Diag — I’d just picked up a 
flyer for a great new yoga club 
— and seeing, right by Mason 
Hall, a booth. Can you believe 
it? Shelby had actually set up a 
booth to advertise the club, and 
her brother Josh created all these 
adorable posters with all this 
ClipArt blood and a picture of a 
dead body.”

“After that, we slipped ‘no 

children under the age of 13’ 
into the bylaws,” Anonymous 
Member with Crackle Nail Polish 
said. “Of course, Shelby was also 
removed from the group, and we 
worked out with Central Student 
Government 
that 
Josh 
will 

never be allowed to attend the 
University. We can’t have people 
violating the bylaws.”

Since the kerfuffle with CSG, 

members of UMFC have become 
more disillusioned about the 
idea of a central government 
in general, even advocating for 
anarchy all together. When asked 
about their political leanings in 
the 2016 presidential election, 
most members of UMFC declined 
to answer.

“You’re missing the whole 

point if you’re expecting us to 
endorse 
one 
candidate 
over 

another,” Anonymous President 
said. “That said, if we had to pick 
one, it’d be Bernie.”

Anarchy, 
socialism, 
avant-

garde therapy and violence — 
UMFC embraces it all.

“Society has a stigma on 

violence and constantly presents 
it in a bad light,” Anonymous 
Member with a Rope Braid 
Headband 
said. 
“We’re 
all 

about flipping it around, taking 
a sociological perspective and 
making people realize, ‘Hey, I 
could use a safe space to let out 
my anger at my ineffective GSI, 
and also integrals.’”

In pursuit of transcendence 

and survival, the members of 
UMFC have abandoned the club’s 
ancient rules requiring strict 
privacy in hopes of saving it. 
While certain legalities prevent 
UMFC from being considered a 
student organization, by opening 
up their doors to the public, 
they hope to be greeted with an 
understanding and enthusiastic 
student population, one that 
accepts their unique therapeutic 
rituals for what they are and even 
provides first aid assistance in 
emergencies.

“Violence is a turn-off for some 

people,” Anonymous President 
said. “Most people, in fact. But 
we’re looking for that 1 percent 
that finds it intriguing. After 
all, Greek life freely exists on 
campus, so why can’t we?”

Editor’s note: This is part of an 

April Fool’s parody B-Side issue. 
All events and individuals depicted 
are fictional (to the best of our 
knowledge). But seriously, Shelby 
sucks.

By REBECCA LERNER and 

SOPHIA KAUFMAN

Daily Film Editor and Daily Arts 

Writer

“I mean, what can I say? It’s 

all in the name — everything 
we want to communicate to our 
audience, to you, we put into the 
name,” guitarist Eric Goldman 
said while drinking his triple 
shot of espresso, grimacing with 
every sip.

The name in question is 

“Pussy Beacon,” and it refers 
to the Ann Arbor-based indie 
boy band taking the University 
of Michigan by storm. After 
meeting 
and 
becoming 
fast 

friends in a residential dorm 
freshman year, the five LSA 
juniors and comp lit majors of 
Pussy Beacon realized they had 
more in common than location.

“It’s actually a really, really, 

really funny story,” drummer Pat 
Alcheri said. “We were all living 
in West Quad, and we realized 
that we all played instruments.”

Lead vocalist Tom Arizona, 

formerly Tom Stein before a 
legal name change, cut him off. 
He said, “And then we realized 
that we all have the same ‘why’ 
for our music. We all started 
playing because chicks love 
musicians.”

“They also love being called 

chicks,” Goldman said, smirking, 
spinning his fedora around in 
his hands.

At first, the members of Pussy 

Beacon had been reluctant to 
share that they were musicians 
first and foremost to get girls.

“Eventually, we just decided 

to come out with it,” Goldman 
said. “Not come out in, like, a gay 
way — not that there’s anything 
wrong with that. At all! I have 
a friend who’s gay. We’re just 
super into girls. And we wanted 
everyone to know.” Thus, “Pussy 
Beacon” was born.

When asked if they thought 

the backlash their band name 
sometimes 
received 
was 

warranted, all five boys snorted 
in unison.

“We’re trying to be the most 

true to ourselves as we possibly 
can. The name reflects that. 
We’re not going to sell out to 
a major record company or 
anything like that,” harmonicist 
Mac Reynolds said, met with a 
chorus of “Fuck that!” by the 
other boys. “We just want to be 
indie-rock. Actually, we want 
TO indie rock! Can you put that 
in the article? I just thought of 
that right now. That was dope.”

The 
influences 
of 
Pussy 

Beacon span both genre and 
time period. Citing artists like 
Eminem and Jack Johnson, they 
made it clear that they weren’t 
just listening to artists of this 
generation — Dave Matthews 

Band of the ’90s also played 
a huge part in their artistic 
growth.

“I would describe us as a mix 

between Jason Mraz and blink-
182, because I think we can get 
sort of punk-ish sometimes,” 
pianist Nick Blad said. “But 
we’re still chill and indie.”

The band takes pride in 

the fact that besides Blad’s 
experience learning recorder 
in third grade, they are entirely 
self-taught.

“I actually learned how to play 

guitar from YouTube videos. I’m 
sort of crazy that way,” Goldman 
said, flicking his hair to the side. 
“I can just pick things up after 
doing them every day for two 
or three years. My friends call 
me Rain Man. I just get things 
without even trying, you know?”

Despite the lack of diversity in 

their group, Pussy Beacon sees 
the dearth of respect for people 

of color and women in the music 
industry as a huge problem.

“It sucks, man,” Reynolds 

said. “I just feel like there aren’t 
enough 
chicks 
making 
cool 

music, and that’s really hurting 
them. I’d love to help them out, if 
you know any girls who want to 
play. Harmonica isn’t as hard as 
people say it is, if you can believe 
it. I’ll give you my number and 
you can pass it on to any of your 
female friends.”

“But sometimes I just feel 

like girls aren’t as good at, like, 
real rock music, you know?” 
Goldman said. “Or, like, indie 
music.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” he 

hastened to add. “Girls are great! 
But guys and girls are just good 
at different things. Like Adele 
or Taylor Swift with those love 
songs and pop music? Not my 
vibe — there’s just not a whole 
lot of substance there — but, like, 
good for them.”

“And besides, we write a 

lot of songs about girls,” Blad 
said. “Wanna hear some of our 
favorite lyrics?”

Despite 
not 
receiving 
an 

affirmative answer, he began 
what the reporters at The 
Michigan Daily assumed to be a 
rap: “I know you slept with my 
friend / But I still think you’re a 
10 / You’re so hot, Naomi / and 
I just wish you would blow me.”

Though the theme of girls has 

dominated the band’s playlist on 
SoundCloud, it has also factored 

into challenges for the group.

“There was a time when 

Arizona wanted to fuck Pat’s 
hot Italian mom,” Goldman 
said. “So, yeah, there was some 
tension there.”

Luckily, 
the 
band 
has 

channeled their tensions into 
producing some of their proudest 
lyrical inventions.

“Arizona and I managed to 

work 
through 
the 
situation 

when he wrote a song about it,” 
Acheri said. “It goes, ‘You’re so 
much older, got so much on your 
shoulders / Your breasts are 
starting to sag / with the weight 
of your experience / I hate to 
brag / but I want to see them, I’m 
curious.’ After Arizona played 
that for me for the first time, 
I totally realized how he felt. 
I mean, all of us have had that 
relatable experience of wanting 
to see a pair, you know?”

In terms of improving racial 

diversity in indie music, the boys 
were a little stumped.

“I mean, Pat’s Italian,” Blad 

said. “I don’t really know how 
much better you expect us to 
do.”

“Second-generation, 
but 

still. People always ask me if 
I like pizza,” Acheri said. “So 
annoying. I guess, in that way, 
there is a real prejudice problem 
in the music industry.”

Pussy Beacon hopes to sign 

with a small record label in 
Brooklyn after graduation next 
year. Because of their experience 
playing in different venues, they 
see this plan as entirely feasible.

“We’ve actually played at 

co-op parties, fraternity parties 
and 
mixers,” 
Arizona 
said. 

“Mixers are when a fraternity 
and sorority socialize in a place 
that isn’t the house. It’s a totally 
different vibe. So yeah, I’d say 
we’re pretty well-equipped to 
handle whatever comes our 
way.”

Despite being in a public place 

and 
being 
repeatedly 
asked 

not to, Pussy Beacon ended the 
interview with a song.

“We’re going to play this 

song because it really speaks 
to who we are as a band and a 
collective group of awesome 
dudes,” Goldman said before 
sensually raising a disconnected 
microphone to his mouth. “It’s 
a cover, but I don’t think you’ll 
ever have heard of it. It’s a song 
about trust, and really getting 
someone, like on a fundamental 
level, you know? Hope you enjoy. 
It’s called ‘Wonderwall.’ 

Editor’s Note: This is part of 

an April Fools parody B-Side 
issue. All events and individuals 
depicted are fictional (to the best 
of our knowledge). Pussy Beacon 
isn’t trademarked yet — jump on 
that fast.”

ARTISTS
PROFILE

IN

By DANIELLE IMMERMAN

Daily Arts Writer

In an effort to diversify their 

lineup, Bravo has premiered a new 
spin on their Real Housewives 
series — 
unlike 
“The Real 
House-
wives of 
New Jer-
sey,” “New 
York City,” 
“Miami” 
and the 
other 
series, “The Future Real House-
wives of Ann Arbor” centers on, 
well, women who are 19 going on 
20, instead of 40 going on 19.

The diverse cast follows five 

freshman gals at the University 
of Michigan as they search for 
love in this crazy college town. 
Rachel, Sarah, Ali, Emma and 
Apple-North Moses get into a 
cat fight over the same frat guy 
within the first 10 minutes of the 
pilot episode alone. Set at Tau 
Epsilon Kappa’s “fifths and cuffs” 
rager, each future housewife, 
with their long dark hair and 
cute Adidas Superstars, learns 
that Timmy asked them all to his 

formal in Chicago the following 
weekend. How did they learn this 
earth-shattering news, one might 
ask? Their frat boi dates told them 
because when you’re handcuffed 
to a guy you barely know with a 
fifth of Kamchatka in your other 
hand, well, shit happens.

So for the remainder of the 

pilot we see some wild “Real 
Housewives of New Jersey”-style 
drama commence; lots of tears are 
shed, a few dresses are ripped to 
shreds and fake tans are ruined. 
Obviously, Timmy tries to put an 
end to this drama by reassuring 
all of the girls that there’s lots of 
chances to hook up in the future, 
but alas, Timmy ends up soaked 
in their cans of Natty Light. Of 
course Timmy gets pissed — his 
Timberlands and Canada Goose 
jacket are completely ruined 
(why Timmy is wearing a Canada 
Goose jacket at a steamy frat 
part is beyond me). But, like the 
gentleman that Timmy is, he 
calls each gal a Lyft (not an Uber, 
because Timmy messed that one 
up) home.

All this drama is quite 

entertaining to watch. It’s 
refreshing to see such intelligent 
college co-eds put their feelings 
on display so publicly. If you 

think this new reality show is just 
another “Jersey Shore,” you’d be 
wrong! We actually learn quite 
a lot from “The Future Real 
Housewives of Ann Arbor.” For 
example, we learn that Rachel, 
Sarah, Ali, Emma and Apple-
North Moses are all majoring in 
communications because they 
want to be able to educate their 
kids on the ~harmful effects of 
the media~. We even learn some 
Econ 101 as they get tutored by 
Ross students (it’s OK that they’re 
just taking Econ to find a Ross 
husband, right?), and we also 
learn some healthy habits as they 
fill their plates with kale, workout 
at the Ross gym and proceed to 
drink a fifth of vodka later that 
night!

Overall, I’d say this is the best 

spin on the Real Housewives 
series to date. After all, what 
could be better than watching 
some goal-oriented kids seize life 
by the balls, one bottle of Ciroc at 
a time?

Editor’s note: This is part of 

an April Fool’s parody B-Side 
issue. All events and individuals 
depicted are fictional (to the best of 
our knowledge). There’s probably 
someone out there named Apple-
North, though.

Very real review of 
‘Future A2 Wives’

A++

The Real 
Housewives 
of Ann Arbor

WOLV-TV

“People always 
ask me if I like 

pizza.”

A picture of a 

dead body.

Talk about UM’s 
secret fight club

