Author

Charlie Spitzner

Browsing

Carl Bernstein and Bob Woodward. Charles Bernstein and Rob Woodsomething. Among journalists, these guys are pretty much the cream of the crop. The Apex. The King of the Hill. The Menagerie. The Trojan Horse. The journaliest journalists to ever journalist a journal. Such men, such burly and charismatic men they are, only they could have busted one of the biggest scandals in American history wide open from eye hole to opposite-side ear hole on the cryptic skull that is our nation’s past. Their work consists of volumes; their skills nigh untouchable; perhaps the single-most famous name in journalism that is actually two people. Friends, let me explain what this means to you. Let me share my reasons why everyone on campus (besides Taylor Knoedl) should be thoroughly invested in, what at least appears to be, two old white dudes shootin’ the shit on a ten dollar stage under a few…

Charlie: The last time I took the helm for the ‘ol Goggles cruise to yesteryear, was to talk about one of the biggest bands to ever exist; Nirvana. If it is possible for a bunch of kids who were still suckling on momma’s teat when Cobain died, to feel nostalgic for something they were hardly alive for, it is possible for you to get those sweet purple hazies about things gone by if they meant something to you at a specific point in time. But it’s important to keep in mind that you were probably a pretty shitty little gremlin thing while you were having those thoughts about “finally finding good music” or “realizing that this was the real shit andcomputersaren’tinstrumentsbecausefirescaresmeandIamhorribleatembracingnewideas.” The Pulp Fiction nostalgia trip is similar to the Nirvana one in a lot of ways; initial exposure usually occurred sometime during the pre-teen/early teenage years, the introduction of…

Bob Saget: a name that usually brings wretches, sighs of discontent, and the occasional cheerful “oh” of recognition from those that’ve been out of the pop culture loop for the past decade. Though the man has garnered public ire through his reputation as a crass, filthy man with swears dripping off his tongue like strains of spittle, his answers to my questions were far less R-rated than the unsuspecting reader would expect. Still not exactly G, though (PG-13, I guess). He still found ways of throwing in the occasional “haha, Jews” bit and other flicks of occasional tasteless shit, but I guess there is no completely separation of the man from character. I was only allotted two questions thanks to time constraints, so I tried to pitch him my best heavy hitters. SBP: Do you have a favorite story regarding maybe an angry parent or a guardian who thought that…

The musical stylings of actors tend to shift towards three distinct directions: the rarely good (a la Tenacious D… if that’s your thing), the mostly bad (like Billy Bob Thorton’s Boxmasters), and the occasionally strange (Did you know that Keanu Reaves once filled I on bass for The Vandals at a New Years show?). Most would assume that lovable mumbleman Michael Cera would fall into either a whiny sub-genre of “bad” or at least firmly plant his now-musical ass in “strange,” but it looks like dear ‘ol Paulie Bleaker might have some serious musical chops after all. It’s been awhile since Michael Cera’s played a mild-mannered musician in a motion picture (right?), so that fact alone already reduces the chance of True That achieving the lofty statuses of “vanity project” or “tie-in cash grab.” Sorry to say, but Cera’s album actually sounds like a true labor of love and dedication…

SBU-TV’s 3rd Annual Film Festival gave graduate and undergraduate students alike a chance to showcase their own original works in front of an audience to show what they had to offer and present an eclectic view of the capabilities of Stony Brook University students concerning film. Screened submissions ranged from serious mini-documentaries about South African rhinos and a soldier struggling with PTSD, to artsy aspiring horror films, quirky Youtube fodder, a romantic comedy involving Stony Brook’s beloved mascot, and content created and commissioned by SBU-TV themselves. “This event is our bread and butter,” said SBU TV President Angelo Lambroschino addressing the crowd, “it’s our favorite thing to do as a club.” The festival, held in the Tabler Quad’s Blackbox Theater, presented about a dozen amateur films screened and chosen by SBU TV to be shown to the audience, who were given a chance at the end of the screening to…

I leave this here as a warning. A warning to all who have heard the tales, to those who have shaken the hand of prosperity or greed, and attempted to make their own way to the promised land. My name is Elliot and hard times had found their way to my farm in Illinois. I knew the risk but couldn’t stand to see my family (my loving wife Joanne and our three gorgeous, gorgeous children) go so thin and pale like those I’d seen lining gutters in the streets of town, all hope a passing shade lost in those drooping eyes. I simply couldn’t allow such a fate then, but now… now I only wish I could be offered such a gracious opportunity. My eldest, Jane, fell overboard when we tried to forge a river, her slim body unable to fight the tide. Dear Henry fell poisoned with a snakebite…