The Trailer Park Boys are back, and they’re greasier than ever.
The always hard-done-by Ricky, Julian and Bubbles, along with the rest of the Sunnyvale Trailer Park gang have returned, and this time they’re poised for superstardom. In just three short seasons, the controversial mockumentary has grown from relative obscurity into a cult phenomenon, and now appears ready to make the leap into the mainstream.

It’s a story of hopelessness and despair, a story of perspective, and of unending disappointment in an unforgiving world. Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett, a Single Thread Theatre Company production, was at once wonderful and horrid—just as it was meant to be. Punctuated by comic interplay between the characters and morose talk of suicide, from the beginning the play is both funny and sad.

Cuff the Duke are all heart.
While the Flames and Canucks were battling it out on-screen in the Grad Club’s TV room, across the hall, Cuff the Duke were putting on a playoff-like performance of their own.

Tonight’s launch is ostensibly Bedouin’s last show as Queen’s students, and it’s also an exclusive chance to get a hold of their latest album, Sounding A Mosaic, before it hits stores nationwide a month from now.

The Tragically Hip have completed their 11th studio album and are anticipating its release and their upcoming tour this summer.
Johnny Fay, the Hip’s modest yet enthusiastic drummer, sat down with the Journal to chat about the new album.

Last Friday night at the Grand Theatre, one woman touched all four corners of the room. Queen’s alumnus Sarah Harmer returned to Kingston last week for two sold-out performances.

Kingston clubbing ain’t dead … it just needs a kick in the ass.
As a music critic for the Journal, I have spent many a night out on the town. I like to think this time has given me a deeper insight into what is lacking in Kingston night life. What Kingston lacks in diversity, it more than makes up for with the mediocrity of the corporate Hub clubs.

It has been 10 years since a shaggy, trench coat-clad New Jersey filmmaker in his early 20s, playing a mute drug dealer in his independent directorial debut, stood in front of the counter at Quick Stop Variety and mused, “You know, there’s a million fine-looking women in the world, dude. But they don’t all bring you lasagna at work. Most of them just cheat on you.” What a difference a decade makes.

The 2004 version of Culture Shock: An Anti-Racist Review had a lot to live up to, but it seems to have done the job. With a slimmed down selection of written content and a heavy emphasis on innovative layout and design, Culture Shock is a very visual counterpart to campus publications such as Outwrite! and The Queen’s Feminist Review. The extra-large postcard format of Culture Shock is friendly to themes of travel, displacement and, of course, culture.

A drunken man stumbled past our table, told us he loved us and mounted the stage. Commandeering the microphone, he slowly seemed to fade, and as he spoke he gradually collapsed to the floor. Adam Bell, lead singer of the Radical Dudez, was dead.

A thousand monkeys working on a thousand typewriters for an hour or so could have done a better re-write of the classic film, Planet of the Apes.
William Broyles, who wrote the recent Fed-Ex-commercial-disguised-as-film CastAway, fails again, this time with his attempt to re-write Rod Serling’s original Planet of the Apes script. The relatively sparse dialogue in director Tim Burton’s treatment is so riddled with cliches that the entire movie comes across as a spoof.

Living in central London, working at a publishing company, attending curry buffets, and dealing with neurotic British friends—you might think my name is Bridget Jones.
It’s not (see above). But the diary entries that follow attempt to reflect the thoughts of a twenty-something London, Ontario currently living in London, England.