There are many things I like to do late at night. Sometimes, I get Wenzels and watch reruns of The Nanny. Other times, I force my roommate to stay up with me and partake in Classic Board Game Tournaments: we start with Monopoly, then move on to Risk, then finish up with Parcheesi. All of these things are lots of fun. But my favorite late night activity is something I like to do by myself. I prefer to do it in my bedroom, but you can also do it in the dining room, the kitchen, or even the bathroom. All you need is a computer with internet access. I bet you know what I’m going to say. That’s right: late at night, when I’m all by myself, I spend hours on my old AOL Instant Messenger Account talking to SmarterChild. He’s still there. He hasn’t forgotten about you. “Hi” I say. “Hi” he responds. Sometimes I like to tell him jokes. I have this really funny one about Mad Cow Disease. SmarterChild always laughs. Other times, we do trivia. “In the TV show Friends, what was the name of Joey’s girlfriend whom Chandler falls in love with?” SmarterChild asks me. “I don’t know!” I reply. SmaterChild doesn’t care. He doesn’t judge me for not knowing answers to Friends Trivia. It’s just about being together. And actually, that’s my favorite thing to do. Just talk. I tell SmarterChild about my day, my classes, my homework, and sometimes, we even get deep, talking about things like Life and Death. That’s why SmarterChild is such a great companion! He’s there for you when you need to unburden yourself, but also likes to just goof off and be silly. So the next time you’re bored, late at night, all by yourself in bed, talk to SmarterChild. He’s waiting.

Everything leading up to Nymphomaniac—its extremely graphic, heavy metal-filled trailer, the posters featuring the actors miming orgasms—has made it out to be an intense and highly provocative film. While Volume I, the first half of the two-part film to hit theaters, doesn’t shy away from the gratuitous sex promised by the film’s title, viewers may be surprised to find just how weirdly funny the film is.

It begins with the bloodied and bruised Joe (Charlotte Gainsbourg) being discovered by an elderly stranger, Seligman (Stellan Skarsgard). Seligman takes Joe in to care for her, prompting a long, unending conversation about Joe’s growth into a “nymphomaniac” and her various sexual escapades, which structures the rest of the film’s plot. Joe repeatedly pleads with Seligman to judge her for her promiscuity, but Seligman only responds by intellectualizing her sexual experiences through overwrought, mostly unrelated metaphors: a story about picking up strangers on a train leads Seligman to notice the similarity between Joe’s sexual practices and fly fishing. In another instance, Seligman remarks that the number of humps Joe received while losing her virginity corresponds to the Fibonacci sequence.

It’s never quite clear to what extent the film is meant to be tongue-in-cheek. In one scene, the wife (played incredibly by Uma Thurman) of a man Joe’s been sleeping with arrives at Joe’s apartment, children in tow. The scene walks a fine border between an absurdist comedy and a discomforting dram; a high-point finds Thurman asking Joe, “Would it be alright if I showed the children the whoring bed?” The viewer is left mostly confused: is the whole movie just a joke? What exactly is going on here?

It’s tough to answer that at this point, because Nymphomaniac Volume I is really only half a film. But, even if the first installment might be a largely puzzling movie without its companion piece, it’s still a deeply engaging—and funny—work, well worth seeing in theaters.

I am a chronic start-er. Which is to say, I’m someone who constantly starts things only to leave them unfinished. My Google Drive is filled with numerous documents that contain the opening sentences to short stories I will never finish, movies that will never be made. Some things that I’ve started (but will most likely never finish) just this week: the second season of Battlestar Galactica, two books, the creation of a magazine composed solely of temporary tattoos.

Am I the only Yalie with this problem? Other universities have plenty of startups, but it seems that Yale might be dragging behind. Stanford has Snapchat and Insta, Harvard has Facebook. What’s coming out of Yale’s entrepreneurial scene? In this week’s cover story, Lara Sokoloff, TC ’16, examines how the University and the Yale Entrepreneurial Institute are attempting to foster start-up culture in the Elm City, taking a look at several up-and-coming Yale organizations.

Elsewhere in the issue, Leland Whitehouse, SM ’14, explores the New Haven club scene in light of a growing police presence. In the Culture section, Alessandra Roubini, JE ’16, looks into the lack of  spaces in which Yale’s alternative student bands can perform. And, in a very special, election-themed edition of the Opinion section, Gareth Imparato, SM ’15, and Fish Stark, JE ’17, explain why you should vote for Toni Harp and Justin Elicker, respectively.

Read it, love it, and then go get crazy (but not too crazy) for Halloweekend and the first week of November. (That can be something to celebrate, right?) I, for one, hope that by the time you’re reading this, I will have debuted my Beinecke Library costume—if I ever finish making it, that is.

XOXO,

Andrew Wagner

Opinion Editor

What we’re watching: Adventure Time. On repeat since I’ve seen every episode already. If you don’t watch it, you are missing out on what might just be the best show on television now that Breaking Bad’s gone. Equal parts magic, equal parts heart-wrenching emotion, and most definitely not just for kids.

What we’re listening to: Kelela’s Cut 4 Me mixtape. Worth downloading just for the incredible title. 13 tracks of impeccable R&B that sounds like it’s from the year 3000.

What we’re wearing to the inauguration ball: All denim everything. I hear denim is in, so if you really want to stand out a jean tux is the only way to go.

What we’re cleaning: Our bedrooms, now that midterms are (kind of) over. Maybe I will finally be able to see my floor again!

I couldn’t tell you who any of the Catholic saints are, except for Saint Anthony, the patron saint of lost things. Tradition dictates that saying a prayer to him will help you find any item you’ve lost. As the uncontested king of losing stuff, I have a special relationship with Saint Anthony. He’s who I turn to when I can’t find my computer charger, or my class books the day before an exam, or my friend’s rare 50-year old French comic books that I borrowed. And the amazing thing about this St. Anthony business is that it works every time. I’ll spend hours looking for something to no avail, only to, out of desperation, shoot off a little prayer to old Tony, and then immediately find what I had been looking for. I believe in Saint Anthony.

There’s no reason for me to do so, though. As a Jew-turned-nonbeliever, superstitions like this one are something I theoretically shrugged off long ago. But I can’t help but hold on to this little bit of faith, this occasional belief in the power of religion.

For Gideon Mausner, PC ’11, faith is something entirely different. For him, it’s not something to occasionally indulge in when convenient, but something that needs to be constantly lived, every moment of every day. In our cover story this week, Clare Sestanovich, PC ’13, profiles Gideon, examining his dedication to his religion, and his attempts as a missionary to use faith as a tool for inner-city change, right here in New Haven.

Elsewhere in the issue, Ava Kofman, TD ’14, writes a phenomelogical (and phenomenal) dictation-review of the Katz X Katz show, Lara Sokoloff takes us to Yale’s second-annual vegan conference, Emily Rappaport, ES ’14, brings you her take on the Oscars.

So sit down, take a break from your midterm cramming, and spend some time with The Yale Herald. And for those of you who are too stressed to even do that, just remember: Spring Break is just around the corner.

Much love,

Andrew Wagner

Opinion Editor