Dear Madame:

I have no doubt your publication will be shortly inundated with commentary on the upcoming divestment resolution, as such proposals have histories of rending UC campuses in twain (see Berkeley, San Diego, Santa Barbara). It should say something that news has reached me of the advent from my quarter abroad in London.

A number of questions could be brought against the ASUCD Senate’s consideration of a divestment resolution. What does a student government have to do with the conflict? Could they be better focusing their efforts elsewhere? Is this debate (or shouting match as it’s likely to become) of any true educational value? However, I will refrain from launching those inquiries.

Instead I want to focus on the arrogance of a group of students, that they find themselves qualified and informed enough to submit a formal opinion on a conflict which has spanned decades (using the narrow view) and centuries (using the longer one).

The historical length and complexity of this conflict is what troubles me. Some of the smartest and best political minds during and beyond our lifetimes have attempted to resolve the schism and have been unsuccessful. Why? Because it is hard. Really, really hard.

A resolution is a rhetorical statement saying we believe X for this and this reason. The problem comes in the finality of the statement. If the ASUCD Senate actually believes they can reach a final and decisive decision on a subject greyer than a British Foxhound, then they can and should be accused of hubris so deep it puts them out of touch with a large portion of the students they supposedly represent.

I find myself far more favourable to the idea of ASUCD sponsoring a campus discussion of the issue so students can actually learn something about the conflict, and its history — that would educational; that would be in the role and interests of the student body.

Any more drastic action would be the senators presuming they know far better than their own electorate (not the spirit of democracy) and know better than the majority of world leaders in the last 40 years, claims I believe total a check too large for our student government to properly cash.

Cheerio from across the pond,
Justin Goss
Fifth-year political science major

Sometimes when I feel like getting a little wild on weekends, I buckle myself into my minivan and drive my crazy self right on over to Target. I love walking through the Dollar Days section while being tempted by a million little trinkets that I don’t really need. But come on, those bird-shaped chip clips were a pretty awesome find. It seems that whenever I venture into Target, I can’t help but instigate quite awkward situations. A few of my favorites are recounted here.

The best one I can think of is the great fart putty incident of ’13. I had perused the Dollar Days aisle and found some “noise putty.” I thought this would be a helpful stress management tool. I could play with putty while working on papers to calm down. I purchased it, justifying the expense by saying it was just $1.

The next day, as I was playing with it, I realized why it was called “noise putty.” No sooner had I put my hand in the thing than it let out a loud, realistic farting noise. I squashed it again and realized that no matter what I did, this baby was going to make loud farting noises every time. I have roommates, who clearly were thinking that I had some serious Taco Bell for lunch that day. Much love to the Silo Taco Bell Express.

The putty couldn’t stay. After a few days I went back to Target and walked up to the return counter. The gentleman there made the mistake of asking me if there was anything wrong with the product.

I replied, “No, it’s just that I didn’t realize it was noise putty. I brought it home and it started making really loud farting noises and well, my roommates thought things. So I’d like to return it for some non-farting putty.” He looked at me, rather bewildered, and said, “OK.” I asked if he heard stories like that often. He replied with a simple “No.”

The next incident occurred a few months later. It was evening, and I stood in the Target parking next to my seafoam green minivan. I had smelled burning during my drive, which is actually quite typical, so I opened up the hood and was examining the oil level.

Just then a small car came driving at lightning speed through the Target parking lot. The driver chose to place his vehicle in the spot directly next to mine even though there was a shopping cart in that space. I was instantly cautious.

What did this man think he was doing, parking next to me? And in a spot with a cart in it, no less! As a safety measure, I got my pink pepper spray out and clicked off safety mode. This was getting serious fast. As the man stepped out of his car, I carefully monitored his movements. I held my pepper spray ready as I stood next to my open hood. The man looked at me and said, “Can I help you?”

Well, that wasn’t going down. I stared at him and said, “No, thank you.” He looked at me rather strangely. It was only then that I realized that some innocent man, who was likely just trying to go grab a few groceries, was being stared down by a chick who clearly was holding up a pink pepper spray can pointed directly at him.

The awkward saga continued when I had the entire Target team attempting to find temporary tattoos for me. I had two different associates helping me in person before they finally just radioed the entire Target team to ask where the temporary tattoos could be found. I told one of the guys who was helping me that I would prefer some with ponies or princesses or something.

The associate clearly thought it was a little strange for someone in their 20s without a child to ask for something juvenile. I felt the need to explain myself, so I said, “I need these because I want to put them on my roommate while she is sleeping.” He gave me a puzzled look, which of course must have been sheer bewilderment at my ingenuity.

MARCI MONTANARI is looking for companions who are interested in hitting up Target awkward style, until the associates finally stop letting her into the store. If interested, email mcmontanari@ucdavis.edu.

“I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!”

As I watched this Hunger Games scene on Netflix last weekend, tears streamed down my cheeks as my drama queen of a brain mourned Katniss’ plight.

But when I saw it in theaters a few months ago, I didn’t get emotional once. The only difference?

Birth control.

I’ve been experimenting with different forms of hormonal contraceptives lately, trying to find the magic method that doesn’t come with 12-day periods, excessive bloating or the tendency to choke up every time Sarah McLachlan decides to sing over an animal adoption PSA.

Despite my frustration, I suppose I should be thankful for hormonal birth control. It means I don’t need to drink the froth from a camel’s mouth like the women in ancient Africa, or wear weasel testicles around my thigh like the ladies of medieval Europe.

I shouldn’t take the availability of birth control in the U.S. for granted, either — the Comstock Act, a federal ban on contraceptives, was not lifted until 1938, and the Supreme Court did not grant unmarried couples the right to use birth control until fairly recently, in 1972.

By the 90s, women had plenty of options when it came to preventing pregnancy: IUDs, hormonal implants and injectables, low-dose pills, patches, vaginal rings and more.

Among all these new developments in contraception, it seems odd that no great strides have been made on the male side of birth control since the discovery of latex (and the invention of the modern condom) in the 1920s. Where’s the male “pill”?

There are two reasons for the delay: reproductive anatomy and money. While women only produce one egg a month, men turn out about 1,500 sperm per second. Women’s bodies also have periods of infertility, like pregnancy, which hormonal birth control can simulate. Men, on the other hand, are fertile 24/7.

Some attempts at a male “pill” have focused on hormones, like most female contraceptives. However, targeting testosterone in such a way has the unfortunate aesthetic side effect of testicular shrinkage.

Though some research focusing on non-hormonal solutions is underway, the lack of federal funding for male birth control trials has hindered any real progress. This is at least partially due to the availability of female hormonal contraceptives, paired with the archaic notion that pregnancy prevention is the woman’s responsibility.

However, according to Science Daily, about 70 percent of men would be willing to take a birth control pill if it were available.

One of the possible male birth control options on the horizon was recently discovered during cancer research. Qinglei Li, an assistant professor at Texas A&M, found a compound called JQ1. The compound inhibits both sperm production and sperm mobility in mice. What’s more, JQ1 does not seem to have any effect on long-term reproductive ability or health.

However, JQ1 is still in the early stages of research, and just because it works on mice does not mean it will be effective in humans. JQ1 could suffer the same fate as Zavesca, a potential male contraceptive that worked perfectly at inhibiting sperm production in mice a few years ago — until it was tested on humans. Turns out, the drug only worked on a particular strain of laboratory mice.

Gamedazole has come a bit farther. The drug is also sperm-inhibiting, and has been successfully tested on not only mice, but also rats, rabbits and nonhuman primates.

Even more exciting is Vasalgel, a polymer gel that’s injected into the vas deferens. When introduced to an activating agent, the gel solidifies into a sponge-like substance that allows the man to ejaculate, but filters the sperm from his semen. The procedure is also easily reversible, as the gel can be dissolved with a second injection.

Better yet, Vasalgel has been tested on humans with close to a 100 percent success rate in India. In the U.S., however, trials are still limited to nonhuman animals, and the system is not yet FDA-approved.

The prospect of more male birth control options is exciting, and a long time coming. Hopefully, the introduction of more reliable male contraceptives will level the cultural playing field in preventing unwanted pregnancy — and give girls like me a break from the mood swings.

MARISA MASSARA’s volatile hormones can be reached at mvmassara@ucdavis.edu.

April was “Get Yourself Tested Month” so I decided to go to the Student Health Center. I asked the front desk receptionist and was politely directed to the second floor clinic. After standing there for over a minute in silence, the receptionist finally acknowledged me by bluntly saying, “Do you have a question?” She seemed surprised and caught off guard by my apparent interruption. I asked if I could make an appointment to be tested. She asked, quite audibly, “Tested for what?” Once I explained to her that I would like to get an STI screening, she continued to work on her computer, printed something out, stapled it, and typed some more, all without saying one word to me. I felt like I was being judged and more importantly, shamed and dismissed. We eventually made my appointment for the next day.

The doctor asked just a few questions about my previous sex life and any concerns I may have had. He then ordered a urine test for an STI screening. I am fortunate enough to have the financial resources for these tests, but not everyone does. Ten dollars for HIV, another $20 for chlamydia and gonorrhea, $10 more for syphilis, and another $30 for herpes. This is not an affordable process. I had to weave through a series of barriers to even access STI testing.

This was not easy. As a senior, I’ve become comfortable with my sex life. Even with these financial, logistic and social limitations, I still felt comfortable accessing these services. Freshmen may see this as a barrier to accessing sexual health services. I should not have been asked to publicly explain my STI status or need for testing in the Health Center lobby. This is not only a violation of privacy but also a violation of The Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act (HIPPA) regulation.

This story is not unique to this student. We, as the Students for Reproductive Justice, feel that this experience — the lack of access to STI testing and an intimidating environment — actively deny students of their chance for sexual health.

When students feel ignored or embarrassed when accessing reproductive health care, they are less likely to do so. Health providers need to publicize that walk-in appointments for STI screenings are available in the first floor lab, no appointment or “orders called in” necessary.

When we called in to find out more information, we received a variety of responses. They did not offer any information about local clinics like Planned Parenthood or Women’s Health Specialists that serve the uninsured or underinsured. By not sharing this information, they are restricting access to a crucial component of health care. We are not arguing that these health providers are mal-intended, but rather should be better educated about the ways to promote sex positivity and knowledgeability about other local services.

This is not solely a social issue about sex positivity but also a serious health issue. What messages about sexual health is the Health Center trying to send by shaming our attempts to maintain a healthy sexual life and body?

We call for a change. We demand that health providers make STI testing more accessible. We demand that when asking about these tests we are not shamed or asked to speak about them in public spaces such as the lobby. We ask that the Health Center respect students’ rights to confidentiality.

We want the UC Davis Student Health Center to change the culture of their medical clinic and create a more inclusive, sex positive space. It is fundamental that STI testing be free. The Health Center and Love Lab should publicize where there is free, accessible STI and HIV testing and celebrate that they are making a healthier, happier student body. Ultimately, health professionals should recognize their power in creating a culture around sex — a culture that currently has the power to prevent people from being tested and therefore being safe.