PLAYBOY

POT IN THE NF
Will the League
Light Up?

ANDY SAMBERG

_The Playboy
Interview

AFGHANISTAN’S
LAST CHANCE

On the Front Lines
Against ISIS

PLUS
Miss September
Kelly Gale

MSIE 3 YY 209: Miles Teller
. The New

= Rules of Style

Burning Man
Israe

What type of man are you?

12, ME AA

Introducing the all-new 2017 FIAT? 124 Spider.
The only turbo-charged two-seater convertible that flirts back.

fiatusa.com

©2016 FCA US LLC. All Rights Reserved. FIAT is a registered trademark of FCA Group Marketing S.p.A.,
used under license by FCA US LLC.

+e * M
ني‎ ۶ derma у у
fiit + وم‎

MNE,

а

wu

"mine BE 66665 a t

全 全 使 全

П ity "e 3

ans — >
ти ИРТ
ere

ит

3111111] po >

КОШ

él

Is

PLAYBOY

FRAGRANCES FOR MEN & WOMEN

Y

H
2

© 2016. Playboy Enterprises International, Inc. Playboy and the Rabbit Head Design are trademarks of Playboy Enterprises International, Inc. and used under license by Coty.

BODY SPRAYS FOR HIM

>»)

as =

oresstoplay

vda —

VIP } VEGAS OLLA 9.

: ЖЕ + \
VER BODY SPRA OVER BODY SPRAY " ALLOVER BODY SPRAY A
R POUR LEC T 0 i VAPORISATEUR POUR LE CORPS
77119 A: POU FOR HIM - POUR LUI

КИР 3
NETWT 4 OZ 113g JEN NEWT 402 1139

Available at select Drug & Mass Retailers m i p la M bo M fra grances.com

hd

"

Chris Heads

The whimsical work of Heads, who
has photographed campaigns for
Levi's and Betsey Johnson, never
fails to evoke the halcyon days of
youth. Marrying vibrant color with
an earthy ambiance, Heads creates
a perfect backdrop for Miss Septem-
ber Kelly Gale, whose radiance pops
on every page.

Colin Winnette

For his short story Whereabouts,
penned exclusively for PLAYBOY, novel-
ist Winnette drew inspiration from his
carless existence in San Francisco—
the birthplace of Uber and Lyft. His
meandering tale, about a man who
tries to save a buck while searching
for his missing wife, is a darkly comic
satire of the sharing economy.

PLAYBILL

Kristina Shevory

U.S. Army veteran and war journal-
ist Shevory spent two years reporting
Afghanistan's Last Chance, an on-
the-front-lines account of the Afghan
specialforces, the nation's last-ditch de-
fense against ISIS. “The commandos are
viewed as the best warriors in the coun-
try," she says. "Gaining access involved a
tremendous amount of wrangling.”

Eben Britton

In 2010, former NFL offensive lineman
Britton dislocated his shoulder twice
during a regular-season game. Sports
doctors treated him with opiates, the
side effects of which further sidelined
him. In Marijuana Is a Team Sport,
Britton, now a medical-marijuana ad-
vocate, argues that the NFL needs to
embrace pot as a superior therapy.

JAGUARS

Langley Fox

Her work has been commissioned by
Louis Vuitton, Marc Jacobs and TL-180;
now, as a freelance artist, Fox (center)
brings her pen to the pages of PLAYBOY.
In Drawn Together, she teams with
photographer Kava Gorna and fash-
ion savant Djuna Bel for an illustrated
pictorial that reminds us how joyful life
can be when you stay outside the lines.

Erin Trieb

A Texas-reared photojournalist living
in Istanbul, Trieb has dedicated her
career to documenting the raw emo-
tional wreckage of raging wars and
post-battle trauma. In Afghanistan's
Last Chance, she captures the stoic
faces of the ill-fed Afghan nationals
who are expected to stave off ISIS
insurgents with too few bullets.

Jeff Weiss

A day before he was dropped off in
Israel's Negev Desert for Burning Man
in the Holy Land, his account of the
country's psychedelics-fueled festival,
Weiss narrowly escaped a Tel Aviv ter-
rorist attack that killed four. "Battal-
ions of soldiers canvassed the block,"
he writes. "For 15 minutes, the hissing
fear that we were next hung in the air.”

Corinne Iozzio

Everything old is new again, and it was
only a matter of time before vinyl made
its sonically superior comeback. As our
resident Tech writer, lozzio reports in So
You Want to Get Into Vinyl that the LP is
coolagain thanks to advancements that
combine the old with the new. Her best
find? A turntable that streams directly
to your Bluetooth speakers.

CREDITS: Cover and pp. 82-95 model Kelly Gale at the Society Management, photography by Chris Heads, styling by Amarsana Gendunova for Wilhelmina, hair by Nicolas Eldin for Art Department, makeup by
Devra Kinery for Art Department, production by Robie Yamamoto, production by Blake Tankersley, styling assistance by Carson Hall. Photography by: p. 6 courtesy Chris Heads, courtesy Corinne lozzio, cour-
tesy Kristina Shevory, courtesy Erin Trieb, courtesy Jeff Weiss, Kava Gorna, Sam Greenwood/Getty Images, Jennifer Yin; p. 31 courtesy ESPN (2), Tony Tomsic/Getty Images; p. 36 courtesy © Sony Pictures Enter-
tainment; p. 38 courtesy Doubleday, courtesy the Feminist Press at CUNY, courtesy Liveright, courtesy Simon & Schuster, courtesy Tin House Books, Time Life Pictures/Department of Energy/LIFE Picture
Collection/Getty Images; p. 44 courtesy Square Enix; p. 50 Molly Cranna; p. 99 courtesy Nona Crowd, Adam Nemser/PHOTOlink/ImageCollect; p. тоо Rick Mackler/Rangefinders/Globe Photos, Inc./ImageCollect;
рр. 111-113 Randy Dodson (4); p. 114 Bill Arsenault/PLaYBoy archive. P. 15 styling by Kathryn Typaldos for Roc Nation, hair by Angela Soto, makeup by Tai Lotson, manicure by Yuko Wada for Atelier Management; pp.
16-17 prop styling by Janine Iversen; p. 18 prop styling by Janine Iversen; pp. 32-35 styling by Mark Holmes for Jed Root, grooming by Marissa Machado for Art Department; pp. 52-59 grooming by Kim Verbeck for
the Wall Group; pp. 60-67 model Langley Fox at Next Management, styling by Djuna Bel for Giant Artists; pp. 102-108 model Hannah Glasby at Ford Models, styling by Jesse Lynn Dell. P. 15 tank top from South-
paw; p. 83 shorts by Stoned Immaculate, rings by Michelle Fantaci; p. 84 earrings by Jack Vartanian; p. 85 red swimsuit by OYE Swimwear, shoes by Adidas; p. 87 striped T-shirt by Siwy; p. 88 white swimsuit by
OYE Swimwear, swim cap by Atsuko Kudo; p. 93 knit bottoms by Moses Gauntlett Cheng, necklace by Jack Vartanian; p. 95 shorts by Stoned Immaculate, belt by Berge, ring by Jack Vartanian, ring by Holly Dyment.

hd

CONTENTS

Departments

NO FILTER Good design is unisex, according to Vashtie Kola, the first woman to create an edition of Air Jordans 15
DRINKS Jagermeister, the infamous herbal shot normally dispensed from a bar-side tap, makes its way into classier glasses 16
TECH vinyl and wi-fi can live happily ever after, after all 22
ADVISOR Looking for a third wheel to spice up your sex life? Rachel Rabbit White warns of the pitfalls of throuples 26
MY WAY How taking a break from big waves saved champion surfer Greg Long from going under 28
ALSO: Poke at home; why you need to dispose of your disposable razors; test-driving Fiat's new Spider roadster
THE RABBIT HOLE A statistical play-by-play on Monday Night Football 31
20Q war Dogs star Miles Teller has fun throwing the middle finger at his haters 32
BOOKS Five dystopian novels that make our current political climate seem tolerable 38
MUSIC Jeff Weiss trips out in the desert at Israel's version of Burning Man 40
FRANCOFILE Clockers author Richard Price gets candid about his coke-addict past 46
SPORTS Former Jacksonville Jaguars lineman and current medical-marijuana advocate Eben Britton makes a plea to the NFL 48

ALSO: The Magnificent Seven returns to the big screen with Denzel; Final Fantasy XV; why outsiders make the best political ads
Features

INTERVIEW Andy Samberg doesn’t mind being remembered for his dick jokes 52
DRAWN TOGETHER Hemingway heiress and artist Langley Fox, photographed by Kava Gorna, inks her body for us ӨӨ
AFGHANISTAN’S LAST CHANCE On the front lines with the beleaguered Afghan soldiers combating ISIS 68
THE NEW RULES OF STYLE Twenty sartorial tips that will suit you for life, not just this season 76
FICTION Colin Winnette's Whereabouts is a PSA against carpooling 8O
MISS SEPTEMBER The multinational Kelly Gale leaves us wondering how to say “perfection” in Swedish 82
THE RISE AND FALL OF LOON How Puff Daddy’s right-hand rhyme spitter became a Muslim—and then aconvict 96
ROAD-TRIPPIN" Hannah Glasby closes out summer with a memorable joyride 102
ARTIST IN RESIDENCE 4 study in contrasts, Ben Venom’s patchwork is aroaring rush of machismo 110

ON THE COVER (AND OPPOSITE PAGE) Miss September Kelly Gale, photographed by Chris Heads.
Our Playmate looks superb in stripes—as does our Rabbit.

VOL. 63, NO. 7 一 SEPTEMBER 2016

hd

PLAYBOY

HUGH M. HEFNER
EDITOR-IN-GHIEF

JASON BUHRMESTER EDITORIAL DIRECTOR
MAC LEWIS CREATIVE DIRECTOR
HUGH GARVEY DEPUTY EDITOR
REBECCAH. BLACK PHOTO DIRECTOR
JAREDEVANS MANAGING EDITOR

EDITORIAL
CAT AUER, JAMES RICKMAN SENIOR EDITORS
SHANE MICHAELSINGH ASSOCIATE EDITOR; TYLERTRYKOWSKI ASSISTANT EDITOR
WINIFRED ORMOND GOPY CHIEF; SAMANTHA SAIYAVONGSA, ELIZABETH SUMAN RESEARCH EDITORS
GILBERT MACIAS EDITORIAL GOORDINATOR; AMANDAWARREN EXECUTIVE ASSISTANT TO THE EDITOR-IN-CHIEF
CONTRIBUTING EDITORS: VINCE BEISER, NEAL GABLER, DAVID HOCHMAN, STEPHEN REBELLO, DAVID RENSIN, DAVID SHEFF, ERIC SPITZNAGEL, DON WINSLOW

JAMES FRANCO EDITOR AT LARGE

ART
CHRIS DEACON SENIOR ART DIRECTOR; AARONLUCAS ART MANAGER; LAURELLEWIS ASSISTANT ART DIRECTOR

PHOTOGRAPHY
ELAYNELODGE STAFF PHOTOGRAPHER
EVAN SMITH ASSOCIATE PHOTO EDITOR; ANNAWILSON PHOTO ASSISTANT
KEVIN MURPHY DIRECTOR, PHOTO LIBRARY; CHRISTIEHARTMANN SENIOR ARCHIVIST, PHOTO LIBRARY
AMY KASTNER-DROWN SENIOR DIGITAL IMAGING SPECIALIST

PRODUCTION
LESLEY K. JOHNSON PRODUCTION DIRECTOR; HELENYEOMAN PRODUCTION SERVICES MANAGER

PUBLIC RELATIONS
THERESA M. HENNESSEY VIGE PRESIDENT; TERITHOMERSON DIRECTOR

PLAYBOY ENTERPRISES INTERNATIONAL, INC.
BENKOHN CHIEF EXECUTIVE OFFICER
DAVIDG.ISRAEL GHIEF OPERATING OFFICER, PRESIDENT, PLAYBOY MEDIA
CORY JONES CHIEF GONTENT OFFICER

ADVERTISING AND MARKETING
PHILLIP MORELOCK GHIEF DIGITAL OFFICER AND PUBLISHER; MARIEFIRNENO VIGE PRESIDENT, ADVERTISING DIRECTOR
RUSSELL SCHNEIDER EXECUTIVE DIRECTOR, INTEGRATED MEDIA SALES
NEW YORE: MALICKCISSE DIRECTOR OF ADVERTISING OPERATIONS AND PROGRAMMATIC SALES
ANGELALEE DIGITAL CAMPAIGN MANAGER; MICHELLE TAFARELLA MELVILLE SENIOR DIRECTOR, ENTERTAINMENT AND BEAUTY
ADAM WEBB SENIOR DIRECTOR, SPIRITS; OLIVIABIORDI MEDIA SALES PLANNER; JASMINEYU SENIOR DIRECTOR, MARKETING
TIMOTHY KELLEPOUREY INTEGRATED MARKETING DIRECTOR; KARIJASPERSOHN ASSOGIATE DIRECTOR, MARKETING AND ACTIVATION

GRACE SANTA MARIA ASSOGIATE DIRECTOR, MARKETING AND PROMOTIONS; GRETCHEN MAYER ASSOCIATE GREATIVE DIRECTOR

AMANDA CHOMICZ DIGITAL MARKETING MANAGER; VOULALYTRAS EXECUTIVE ASSISTANT AND OFFICE MANAGER

CHICAGO: TIFFANY SPARKS ABBOTT SENIOR DIRECTOR, MIDWEST
LOS ANGELES: DINALITT SENIOR DIRECTOR, WEST GOAST; KRISTIALLAIN SENIOR MARKETING MANAGER
VICTORIA FREDERICK SALES ASSISTANT

Playboy (ISSN 0032-1478), September 2016, volume 63, number 7. Published monthly except for combined January/February and July/August issues by Playboy in national and regional editions, Playboy, 9346
Civic Center Drive, Beverly Hills, California 90210. Periodicals postage paid at Beverly Hills, California and at additional mailing offices. Canada Post Canadian Publications Mail Sales Product Agreement
No. 40035534. Subscriptions: in the U.S., $32.97 for a year. Postmaster: Send all UAA to CFS (see DMM 707.4.12.5); nonpostal and military facilities, send address changes to Playboy, P.O. Box 62260, Tampa,
FL 33662-2260. For subscription-related questions, e-mail playboy@customersvc.com. To comment on content, e-mail letters@playboy.com. • We occasionally make portions of our customer list available to
carefully screened companies that offer products or services we believe you may enjoy. If you do not want to receive these offers or information, please let us know by writing to us at Playboy Enterprises International,
Inc. с/о TCS, Р.О. Box 62260, Tampa, FL 33662-2260, or e-mail playboy@customersvc.com. It generally requires eight to 10 weeks for your request to become effective. e Playboy assumes no responsibility to
return unsolicited editorial or graphic or other material. All rights in letters and unsolicited editorial and graphic material will be treated as unconditionally assigned for publication and copyright purposes, and
material will be subject to Playboy’s unrestricted right to edit and comment editorially. Contents copyright © 2016 by Playboy. All rights reserved. Playboy, Playmate and Rabbit Head symbol are marks of Playboy,
registered U.S. Trademark Office. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form by any electronic, mechanical, photocopying or recording means or otherwise
without prior written permission of the publisher. Any similarity between the people and places in the fiction and semi-fiction in this magazine and any real people and places is purely coincidental. For credits see
page 6. Four Bradford Exchange onserts in domestic subscription polywrapped copies. Certificado de licitud de titulo No. 7570 de fecha 29 de Julio de 1993, y certificado de licitud de contenido No. 5108 de fecha 29 de
Julio de 1993 expedidos por la comision Calificadora de publicaciones y revistas ilustradas dependiente de la secretaria de gobernaciön, Mexico. Reserva de derechos 04-2000-071710332800-102. Printed in USA.

10

Tomas Sabo

REBEL AT HEART

WWW. THOMASSABO.COM

hd

DEAR PLAYBOY

THIS IS A SHTICK-UP
Nolistof brave comic routines can be considered
complete without including Stephen Colbert’s
performance at the 2006 White House Corre-
spondents’ Dinner (The Wildest, Craziest, Most
Offensive and Fucked-Up Jokes Ever Told, July/
August). Colbert walked into the monster’s lair,
looked George W. Bush in the eyes and merci-
lessly attacked him to his face. By doing so he let
the entire world know what many of us believed:
that the uncomfortable-looking man with the
spurious smile on his face was destined to be
remembered as the worst president in our life-
time. What Colbert did that night was not sim-
ply brave, it was historic.

Leonard Stegmann

Half Moon Bay, California

FULL STEAM AHEAD

PLAYBOY's new direction is impressive. So far

every month has improved on the last, with the

July/August Freedom Issue the very best so far.

Continue like this and the brand will thrive.
Pierre B. Gauthier
Quebec City, Quebec

KICKING ASS AND GIVING NAMES
Suicide Squad actress Karen Fukuhara says,
“It’s rare to see an Asian female take on the
role of a badass” (No Filter, July/August). I
guess she’s never heard of Michelle Yeoh and
Zhang Ziyi (Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon),
Maggie Q (Nikita), Grace Park (Battlestar
Galactica), Lucy Liu (Kill Bill, Charlie’s Angels),
Devon Aoki (Sin City) or Jamie Chung (Sucker
Punch). It’s not so rare.

M.J. Randle

Dallas, Texas

ROUNDING THE BASES
Thank you for the photos of Miss June Josie
Canseco. Her beauty illustrates the superiority
of the female sex. No tattoos, no piercings, just
delicious woman. The photos are so much more
exciting when they leave you begging for more.
B. Wills
Las Vegas, Nevada
Josie does in fact have a couple of tiny tat-
toos. Here's a fun project: Look again.

Someone tell Jose Canseco that his daughter
one-upped him: She hit a grand slam without
ever stepping up to bat.

Brendan O'Neal

New Orleans, Louisiana

All hail Eugena Washington, Playmate of the Year 2016.

QUEEN EUGENA

I'm thrilled with Eugena Washington, Hef's
choice for Playmate of the Year 2016 (June).
Eugena is intelligent, ambitious, confident
and gorgeous inside and out—essentially the
embodiment of what Playmates have come to
represent. She's an impressive woman with so
much to offer.

Eugena's win feels socially and culturally
significant; the impact on those PLAYBOY has
empowered with this choice will endure. Vali-
dation is important. The struggles to overcome
racism and homophobia are similar; I under-
stand the courage it takes to face a world that
can be needlessly hateful. I see strength in
Eugena's eyes, and it reminds me to keep fight-
ing for myself. She's a symbol of possibility,
living her life on her own terms with no apolo-
gies, doing what she loves. It’s beautiful to see.

Josh Fehrens
Toronto, Ontario

NEW SCHOOL OF ROCK

Writer Sean Manning (Radio on the TV, June)
isspot-on: Shows aboutthe music industry are a
key way to expose viewers to artists they wouldn't
hear otherwise, such as Lucius or Halsey. I work

in the music department for Cameron Crowe's
Roadies, and “introducing audiences to new
artists,” to use Manning's wording, is a favorite
part of my job. Everyone involved in the show
trulyloves music, andIthink that comes across.
Jessica Curtis
Seattle, Washington

PREPARE TO BE ASSIMILATED

Ray Kurzweil envisions everyone's conscious-

nesslinked through technology (Playboy Inter-

view, May). IfI had a direct connection between

my brain and a massive network, I would wanta

massive firewall—and other security measures.
Steven Rovnyak
Indianapolis, Indiana

WEFEIGGED UP
Photographer Dan Monick took
Paul Feig’s portrait for our July/
August feature on the director
(The Gospel According to Paul),
as wellasthe image atright.

E-mail letters@playboy.com, or write to us at

9346 Civic Center Drive, Beverly Hills, California 90210.

12

TOP PHOTO BY JASON LEE PARRY

ATLANTA-

an fx original comedy series from donald glover

2
>

< SIUB үу ‘DTT HOMO X4 9LOZO |
N A

`

^

090616

FX

fearless

Y PLAYBOY SHOP com

~™“Just

because

girl

doesn’t

mean I want
something

darlin

"| grew up a tomboy

іп New York. | also
grew up pretty poor. |
couldn't afford name
brands, so I'd go to the
Salvation Army, buy
something vintage

and design my own
clothes. For me, being
anartist wasn't just
about self-expression;
it was a way to survive.
When І started my own
clothing line, Violette,
in 2008, it came out

as a unisex brand. As
much as we're individu-

@ and

pin

k.”

als, girls like a lot of the
stuff guys like. I’ve
never understood why
brands don’t make
the same clothes

they make for guys

in girls’ sizes. Even in
the sneaker world, the
idea for too long was
to take the cool guy
sneaker and ‘shrink it
and pink it’ for women.
In recent years, unisex
clothing has become
more of a conversa-
tion. The stigma is
dissipating."

Vashtie Kola is a
filmmaker, DJ and
designer who has
worked with Nike,
Puma and Ray-Ban.

PHOTOGRAPHY BY ATISHA PAULSON

ILLUSTRATION BY ALEX CITRIN

DRINKS

The Redemption of

JAGERMEISTER

How the notorious drink jumped from the party circuit to the craft-cocktail scene

Jügerbombs certainly have their time and
place—namely college. Butthe bittersweet Ger-
man spirit the drink incorporates is actually
mixology friendly, and the artisanal-cocktail
community is starting to embrace the complex
ingredient. In a funny way, Jágermeister's low-
rent reputation in America is the source of its
success. In the 1970s, legendary liquor mar-
keter Sidney Frank (who would go on to cre-
ate Grey Goose vodka) began importing the
spirit into the U.S. Ignoring its reputation in
its native land as a digestif enjoyed by grand-
mothers, he hired an army of attractive young
women to sell shots to 20- and 30-something
guys, and an empire was born.

If your snooty cocktail-loving friends give
you grief for ordering a drink mixed with

Jagermeister, point out that the spirit is
flavored with 56 different herbs and botani-
cals and as such is essentially an amaro, just
like Campari, Fernet-Branca and similar
mixologist favorites.

"Ive always liked Jägermeister, so when
bartenders started to use bitter herbal
н іп cocktails, I naturally reached for

” says Mary Bartlett, bartender and as-
sistant general manager at Honeycut in Los
Angeles. “I find it to be a lot drier than some
of the others I’ve worked with, so it’s easy to
balance.” In fact, she uses it as the base for a
full-on tiki cocktail: Her feisty meister (see
recipe below) combines Jager with rum, fruit
juices and, of course, a flaming garnish. Both
Bartlett and Willy Shine, official “brand

meister” for Jagermeister, cite the spirit’s rel-
atively high alcohol content (35 percent ABV)
as the chief reason it makes a good cocktail
ingredient, and its complexity renders it mix-
able with all sorts of flavors. Among its many
botanical ingredients that complement pop-
ular cocktail components, juniper plays per-
fectly with gin, and citrus matches well with
fresh juices. If you want to get fancy with food
pairings, Bartlett’s favorite flavors to com-
bine with Jager include chocolate and pine-
apple, while Shine recommends cucumber,
ginger, coconut and grapefruit. But if youjust
want a drink, try one of the recipes below:
an absinthe-rinsed tequila old fashioned,
Bartlett’s tiki creation and a sophisticated
twist on the old Jager shot.—Jason Horn

MEXIKANER OLD FASHIONED
(Pictured opposite)

Created by Willy Shine,
Jagermeister brand meister

Absinthe

10z. Jagermeister
10z. añejo tequila
7% oz. agave nectar
Orange peel

Star anise

Rinse an old fashioned glass with
absinthe. Add a large ice cube and pour
remaining liquid ingredients into the
glass. Stir. Garnish with strip of orange
peel and star-anise pod.

PHOTOGRAPHY BY GRANT CORNETT

FEISTY MEISTER
Created by Mary Bartlett, Honeycut,
Los Angeles

10z. Jágermeister

ъ oz. blended Jamaican rum

% oz. five-year-old Barbados rum

% oz. orange juice

% oz. lime juice

% oz. passion-fruit syrup

14 oz. orgeat (almond syrup)

For garnish: juiced lime half, 151-proof
rum, ground cinnamon

Add all main ingredients to a shaker
and shake vigorously. Pour into a col-
lins glass filled with crushed ice; mound
more crushed ice on top. Place juiced

lime half atop the ice, rind down, and
into it pour half an ounce of 151-proof
rum. Carefully set rum alight and
sprinkle grated cinnamon over flame.

JAGUAR
Created by Jane Danger, Mother
of Pearl, New York

14 oz. poire Williams (pear
eau-de-vie)
% oz. Jägermeister

Pour poire Williams into a shot glass
and top with Jagermeister. To serve
chilled, add ingredients to a mixing
glass filled with ice. Stir and strain
into ashot glass.

17

Poke (poh kay) has arrived on the mainland:
The raw fish snack, which hails from Hawaii,
exploded on the West Coast over the past
year—Los Angeles alone has more than a dozen
poke shops—and now it’s gone as far as Chi-
cago and New York. “I took a family trip.to
Hawaii in 2012 and fell in love with the stuff,”
says Drew Crane, who opened one of Manhat-
tan’s first poke-dedicated restaurants, Wise-
fish, in January. “It’s a real comfort food in
Hawaii. People get it from liquor stores, delis
and even Costco in round plastic containers to
бо At Wisefish, Granedresses fish with shoyu
_ and sesame oil to order, and serves it atop a
foundation of rice or zucchini noodles. Cus-
tomers can amp up the mixture with a variety
of nontraditional mix-ins such as watermelon

valian “specialty to mainland en monec radish and sea beans. In sum, the great argu-
instream success and it S ^ i ment for why poke is here to stay: It satisfies

+ mes those sushi cravings without denting the wal-
10 ckingly easy to make , Me Je let, and you can make it at home (perhaps im-

» ы pressing a date in the process) with even the
most rudimentary of knife skills. Pro tip: Poke
goes great with corn chips.—Julia Bainbridge

Wisefish Ahi Poke
Serves 4

3 tbsp. tamari shoyu

.ıtbsp. sesame oil

1tsp. gluten-free oyster sauce

| ¥ tsp. freshly grated ginger

1lb. fresh ahi (sashimi-grade yellowfin or bigeye
tuna), cut into half-inch cubes

y, cup sweet onion, thinly sliced lengthwise

4 cups cooked white rice

1avocado, cut into half-inch cubes

1scallion, thinly sliced crosswise

Toasted sesame seeds

— Ina small bowl, whisk together shoyu, sesame
oil, oyster sauce and ginger. Set aside. Ina
larger bowl, combine tuna and onion. Add the
shoyu-sesame mixture and gently toss to coat.
Cover and marinate in the refrigerator for at
least 30 minutes and up to an hour. To serve,
divide rice among four bowls and top each with
a mound of poke. Garnish with avocado, scallion
and a sprinkling of sesame seeds.

PHOTOGRAPHY BY GRANT CORNETT

RIND
MORE

BREE
MAGAZINES

HTTP:/SOEK.IN

AA
ч Vina

ie
Vu

y^

MU ы 4 STYLE he

$
~ / mn JU
1 fo
b
B | ( >

Back

Take it all off—your beard,
that is—as the effortlessly
functional double-edged
razor makes a comeback

You don't need 27 blades and a subscrip-
tion service to get a close shave. New ver-
sions of the redoubtably sleek safety razor
give a design-worthy spin to the classic shav-
ing implement. Unlike plastic razors, which
can require excessive pressure, weightier
metal razors do most of the work for you.
And after the somewhat pricier start-up cost,
double-edged blades are mere pocket change
in comparison with expensive and elaborate
cartridges. Plus, any one of these razors will
look good on the bathroom counter when you
inevitably leave it out.—Vincent Boucher

TILT BLACK

The limited-edition R106 safety razor by Mühle
of Germany features a minimalist black handle
and chrome-plated trim to suit the modernist at
heart. ($70, theartofshaving.com)

à

TAKE A SHINE \
With polished chrome plating to update its old-

school origins, this safety razor by Baxter of
California willbea bright spot in your morning
routine. ($65, mrporter.com) 2

GILTY PLEASURE
A little bling brings baller style to this gold- v
finished 34G heavy-duty classic safety razor from .
Merkur of Germany; it boasts a thick, nonslip grip

to boot. ($51, westcoastshaving.com)

„hu

HOWIE LONG (у,

=” EN SKECHERS

IDE FIT

N'ES

Ze "FIRST CLASS COMFORT.
bh FOR YOUR FEET”

INCLUDES AIR-COOLED
MEMORY FOAM™

So You Want to

@audio-technica

AT-LP60-BT

WIRELESS TURNTABLE

Get Into Vinyl

A brief guide for the analog curious

Downloadable songs and streaming music
may have doomed the compact disc, but their
popularity has helped breathe life into some-
thing much older: the vinyl record. After a
nosedive in the 1980s, every facet of the vinyl
ecosystem is rebounding. Vinyl sales have
been climbing steadily since 2007, reach-
ing an all-time recorded high in 2015; major
retailers including Whole Foods and Urban
Outfitters carry vinyl, and new independent
record stores open all the time. What's more,
German start-up Newbilt Machinery is sell-
ing the first new vinyl-pressing machines
in 30 years; Jack White's label, Third Man
Records, just bought eight. So what gives?

BY GORINNE IOZZIO

Obvious assertions about. hipster lust for
authenticity aside, experts attribute the re-
naissance chiefly to collecting and ownership.
“Tt has alot to do with getting fatigued with
everything in your life being connected to a
screen or the cloud,” says Carrie Colliton of
Department of Record Stores, a nationwide co-
alition of shop owners. ^Deep down, humans
still want some sort of physical elementin their
life.” Translation: A Spotify subscription gives
youaccess to music, so if Spotify disappears, so
do your tunes. But the two worlds aren't neces-
sarily in competition with one another.
“Listening to Spotify, you're vetting your
music,” says Dustin Hansen, general manager

of-the Graywhale string of record stores in
Utah. “If you decide to take the next step, it
makes sense to buy vinyl." Records, he says;
satisfy a host of needs. They're collectible
pieces of art that double as surfaces to roll
joints on—and they offer a unique sound. Yes,
it’s true: Vinyl can sound better. The soft hiss
of the needleasit reads the grooves creates the
fabled warm sound. Anda true analog record-
ing (i.e., one pulled directly from the origi-
nalstudio master tapes) has more detail than
certain compressed digital versions. There's
simply more room in the grooves of a record
to store-nuances. Hansen adds, “You hear
things in songs you've never heard before."

51

FIVE TIPS FOR
TURNTABLE
VIRGINS

START WITH THE BASICS

A bare-bones vinyl system requires three things: a
turntable, an amplifier and speakers. Some systems
bundle two of the three; the Audio-Technica
LP60BK-BT (pictured; audio-technica.com, $179)
has a built-in amp and can stream straight to
your Bluetooth speakers, making the leap to LPs
preposterously easy.

UPGRADE YOUR NEEDLE

The simplest way to get awesome sound out of an
entry- or mid-level turntable is to spring for a brand-
new needle. Your local music-shop guy or girl can
help—Colliton promises most aren't snooty assholes.
Also try TurntableNeedles.com or NeedleDoctor.com.

KEEP THINGS CLEAN

Flecks of dust and oil caught in the vinyl grooves
can damage a record’s surface—and your precious
needle. Invest $10 to $20 in a simple cleaning kit
that includes cleaning fluid and a brush or cloth, and
squeegee your records after every use.

EMBRACE THE DIGITAL

Record labels don’t expect you to sit in silence on the
train, so the lion’s share of new vinyl comes witha dig-
ital copy. Amazon’s AutoRip feature imports tracks to
your Amazon Music account, and indie musician fa-
vorite Bandcamp.com lets you download MP3s and
stream purchases through its mobile app.

DIG AND DISCOVER

Nothing beats rummaging through the used bins at
local shops to build a collection—search for stores
at RecordStoreDay.com. And if you’re pining for
a particular Zeppelin album, it’s sure to be in the
8 million-strong catalog at Discogs.com.

PHOTOGRAPHY BY
KEIRNAN MONAGHAN AND
THEO VAMVOUNAKIS

AUTO

THE RETURN OF THE SPIDER

The Fiat 124 Spider Abarth gives the classic Italian roadster a new edge

Pulling off an appealing new take on a classic
without seeming lame is easier said than done.
Regardless of how much you may admire your
old man’s 1970s sense of fashion after bingeing
on the dearly departed HBO show Vinyl, you
wouldn’t dare pair one of those psychedelic
shirts with a Tom Ford suit in 2016.

Well, at least you shouldn't.

Fiat seems to get it, which makes the return
of its iconic roadster to the U.S., in the form of
the 2017 Fiat 124 Spider, so special.

The new spin on the classic Italian convert-
ible not only recaptures the spirit that has
made the car a hot collectible 50 years after its
introduction, but it also sells you on the idea
even if you aren't a fan of the previous models.
Some may want to write the new Spider off as
simply a rebadged fourth-generation Mazda

PHOTOGRAPHY BY CHANTAL ANDERSON

Miata, but rest assured: This Italian road-
ster is a completely different animal from its
Japanese counterpart, despite the two cars'
shared platform.

Nowhere does this become more apparent
than behind the wheel ofthe 124 Spider Abarth
(pictured). Of the three new Spider variants
(not counting the Prima Edizione, alimited of-
fering of 124 vehicles), the Abarth is by far the
more sinister interpretation of the convertible.
The other two models are the Classica, a purer,
entry-level version, and the more premium
Lusso, which means "luxury" in Italian.

All three come with a turbocharged four-
cylinder engine with basically the same amount
of power: 164 horsepower and 184 pound-feet
of torque in the Abarth, compared with 160
horsepower and 184 pound-feet of torque in

the Classica and the Lusso. But the 124 Spider
Abarth, which starts at alittle over $28,000, is
a far better fit for those drivers who prefer their
classics with a little more edge.

In addition to unique design cues such as gun-
metal accents and matte-black lids, the Abarth
features a number of performance enhance-
ments, including a sportier Bilstein suspension
system and alow-growling, quad-tip exhaust—
both of which make it a lot more fun to drive.

Fortunately this update also includes all the
modern tech features we’ve come to expect:
USB ports, Bluetooth, rear camera. About the
only thing lacking is Apple CarPlay, but for a
true sports car there are worse sins. Opt for
the engaging short-throw standard six-speed
manual transmission and you won’t even
miss it.—Marcus Amick

“AIR-COOLED MEMORY FOAM

ADVISOR

HOW CAN A
COUPLE
BECOME A
THROUPLE?

Ө: We’re a heterosexual couple in search
O ofa “unicorn” (an attractive bisexual
woman) to join us for a few date nights a week.
We've had some one-off threesomes but can't
find a partner to join us more long-term. Apps,
dating sites, friends, acquaintances—nothing
has worked. What are we doing wrong?

e Unicorn hunters have a bad reputa-

€ tion. Perhaps it's the polyamorous
community's endless lingo: ambigusweetie,
new relationship energy (NRE), friends-first
swinging (FFS) and other terms that reek of
corporate buzzwords. One has to wonder if all
polyamorous people are middle managers. Of
the threesome-seeking couples on Tinder, in-
evitably she is bi but without much experience,
and of course he loves to watch. Tina, a for-
mer unicorn, has been on her share of “throu-
ple” dates. “These couples are called unicorn
hunters because they’re often predatory,” she
says. Couples end up treating her like a fan-
{азу rather than a partner; these pairs are sim-
ply looking for someone
to fill a preimagined
role. Yet the high of
an ongoing threesome is real. Tina recounts
the slumber-party vibe of enjoying two lov-
ers, kissing in public, having sex in a myriad
of positions, running out in the middle of the
night for bad Chinese food, drawing attention
as a triple date at a wedding. But fights are in-
tensified when they involve three people. Tina
tells of feeling uncomfortable during a couple's
spats, pressured to take a side. “You won't solve

sr RACHEL RABBIT WHITE

existing relationship problems by bringingina
third person," she says.

Laurel Steinberg agrees. A New York-based
psychotherapist and adjunct professor at Co-
lumbia University’s Teachers College, she
has counseled many couples as they navigate
polyamory. Instead of asking what you’re
doing wrong, Stein-
berg suggests you ask
what you're trying to
achieve, what your goals are. “Couples need
toask themselves: Are we going into and com-
ing out of this as a team? Will we be able to
put this endeavor behind us if we choose not
to do it again? And will we both feel com-
fortable speaking transparently about our
experiences and feelings afterward?” One
common pitfall for couples, says Steinberg,
is the hope that bringing in a second woman

will cure their boredom. However, this can
cause new problems if the woman in the cou-
ple feels in any way inferior when compared
with the new female partner. “It’s also im-
portant to discuss veto power—whether one
member of the couple will control whom the
other engages with sexually in the future,”
she says.

To answer your question: You may not be
doing anything wrong. Dating itself consists of
endless trial and error, as well as numerous bar
tabs that never pay off. In ancient Greece the
unicorn was believed to be a real beast. In me-
dieval times the lack of proof of the animal’s ex-
istence helped move it into the realm of myth.
And as you're discovering, the fantasy of athird
person, one who enters and exits a relationship
with ghostly ease, is just as unattainable.

Questions? E-mail advisor@playboy.com.

ILLUSTRATION BY MIKE PERRY

26

^,
>

DANIEL STEIGER

THE PHANTOM ROSE GOLD.

"PHANTASTIC VALUE PHENOMENAL QUALITY’
Phantom Watch $199 Phantom Ring $129 Set Price $289 (Save An Extra $39) + S&P

he Daniel Steiger Phantom Rose Gold. Engineered from premium grade 316L steel and plated in a mixture of 18K rose gold and black IP, the words
designer styling really could have been invented for this timepiece. A precision chronograph movement featuring 24 Hour, Stopwatch Seconds & Minutes
sub-dials and date window are displayed on the multi-levelled face. Now available direct from the manufacturer at the astonishingly low price of $199- a
saving of $596 on the retail price of $795. So how can we make an offer like this? The answer is beautifully simple. We have no middleman to pay, no
retail overheads to pay and not the usual mark-up to make, which on luxury items can be enormous. To accompany the Phantom, we have introduced the
Phantom ring. With layers of rose gold plated steel and an impressive row set with our flawless Diamondeau, that can cut glass like a mined Diamond.

RING SIZE CHART ~ 11 1 1

Place one of your own rings on top of one of the circles to the right.
Your ring size is the circle that matches the diameter of the inside of
your ring. If your ring falls between sizes, order the next larger size.

ORDER YOURS TODAY! TOLL FREE AND QUOTE PROMO CODES
24/7 ON 1-877 550 9876 PL67PH

Order online pl67 Enter Promo Code PL67PH

Timepieces International Inc, 12800 N.W. South River Drive, Medley, FL 33178

GREG
LONG

MY WAY

The big-wave surfing champion tells how going under put him back on top

Some things you can’t explain, such as the fact
that an activity like big-wave surfing is what
brings happiness or meaning to your life.

When I was 15 years old, my sister was dat-
ing a guy from San Clemente by the name of
Jon Walla, the best underground big-wave
charger in southern California. I convinced
him to take me down to Todos Santos—a leg-
endary break off Ensenada—for the first time.
There I encountered the biggest wave I’d ever
seen, and it changed everything for me.

What it demands of you to actually ride
one of those waves—the thrill and sense of
accomplishment—was far beyond anything I'd
experienced before. It’s the greatest physical
and mental challenge in the sport of surfing.

After winning the high school national
championship, I became a big-wave free surfer.
Ocean Pacific gave me а travel budget to chase
swells to different corners of the globe. When
I was 19 I won Dungeons, a big-wave compe-
tition in South Africa. That got me an invita-
tion to the Mavericks surf contest. In between
competitions I tried to find the biggest and best
waves possible—North Shore, north Pacific or
down in the southern hemisphere—and create

PHOTOGRAPHY BY DANE PETERSON

astory around them that my sponsors could use
to help build their brand.

For 10 years, surfing big waves was all I
thought about, and I was prepared to accept
the consequences. Then the worst-case sce-
nario happened.

It was at Cortes Banks in 2012, on a very
large day. I was trying to paddle it instead of
getting towed in, and I had a wipeout that was
too much to handle. The wind was knocked
out of me before I was able to get a breath, and
I was held down a really long
time. Two more waves passed
over my head, and then I lost
consciousness. I was floating
facedown in the water when my safety team
located me.

In the aftermath, I realized I wasn't taking
time to appreciate the beauty of where I was in
the world. My friendships and relationships at
home weren't what I wanted them to be either,
and it was because I put all my time toward
training or preparing for the next big swell.

When you break it down, the ocean is a beau-
tiful and simple metaphor for life. It's con-
stantly in flux. The tide goes in, the tide goes

AS TOLD TO

ADAM SKOLNICK

out. The seas get stormy. Some days the waves
are perfect. Other days the water is flat. In the
end, no matter what the conditions, you have
to be able to relax and move with the current.
If you fight and struggle, you're only doing
yourself harm. That's exactly what life is like
on land. It's a never-ending sequence of radi-
cal events. Sometimes things go in your favor,
and other times you get knocked on your ass.
People can ruffle your feathers or make life
easy and bring you joy. You're going to expe-
rience all of the above. If you
learn to take everything in
stride and look for the lessons
in each event in order to be-
come a better person and carry yourself with
grace and love, that's what it's all about.

Now I have more fun. I travel less and put
a lot less pressure on myself when I surf, and
consequently I'm getting some of the best
waves of my life. I surfed only two of the three
big-wave competitions this past year but still
managed to win the world title. It was a matter
of finding that balance, and I ook at it as prob-
ably the best year of my life—both in and espe-
cially out of the water. E

28

> ==
ds < RE Rw

Y PLAYBOY SHOP com

Take 10% off with code: VARSITY 10

hd

THE RABBIT HOLE

ON MONDAY NIGHT FOOTBALL

——SLOW-MO & ROBOTICS —

Monday Night
Football owes
much of its
immediate
success to the
filmic style and
technical inno-
vations of its first director, Chet Forte. Us-
ing about 10 strategically positioned cam-
eras (twice the norm)—some mounted on
golf carts, some handheld—as well as “shot-
gun" mikes to capture every call and tackle,
Forte coaxed a stop-start sport into telege-
nic narratives. He also popularized several
techniques including instant replay, slow
motion, split screen, reaction shots, crowd
shots and on-screen graphics. MNF has
continued to innovate with high-definition
technology, robotic goal-line cameras,
and “next-gen stats" that track players
via chips embedded in their uniforms.

— ——MONDAY, MONDAY — —

MNF quickly changed Monday nights in
America. In 1970 The New York Times re-
ported that increasingly empty restaurants
were installing TVs and bowling leagues were
switching game days. Overlake Hospital near
Seattle joked that “no babies are to be born be-
tween seven and 10 on Monday nights.” PTA
meetings were rescheduled, and according to
Variety, sales of movie tickets “nose-dived.”

Scoring touchdowns .......... 36... ees
Field goals ................... A
Rushing yards gained......... 2,434 .......
Rushing touchdowns.......... 23 ss mei
Passing yards gained.......... 9,654. .......
Touchdown passes ............ TE Costes SS restos
Pass receptions............... 254 AES

sr BEN SCHOTT

“ABC-TV’s prime-time poem
of beef and blood.”

—JOHN LEONARD, LIFE, 1970

— —rFOOT(BALL)NOTES ——

Monday Night Football first aired at nine P.M.
Easternon September 21, 1970, when *Broad-
way” Joe Namath (pictured) led the New York
Jets into Cleveland's Municipal Stadium (to
bebeaten by the Browns, 31-21). Y Atthetime,
broadcasting football in prime time was a
risk—onethat CBS and NBC both fumbled. But
АВС?” $8.5 million bet paid off, and MNF re-
defined both television and sports. ¥ The inau-
gural sponsors were a trio of American icons:
Marlboro, Ford and Goodyear. Y On December
8,1980, Howard Cosell broke the news of John
Lennon's murder during a Patriots-Dolphins
matchup at the Orange Bowl: “Hard to go back
to the game after that news flash.” ¥ In 1985,
MNF televised one of football’s most gruesome
injuries, the fracturing of Joe Theismann's leg
during a flea-flicker play. ¥ ABC’s run ended
in 2005, after 555 games. The show migrat-
ed to ESPN, which signed an eight-year deal
worth $1.1 billion annu-
ally. In 2011 ESPN re-
upped its contract with
the NFL for $1.9 bil-
lion a year—a 73 per-
cent rise from 2005 and
an astonishing 22,254
percent rise from 1970.

MONDAY NIGHT FOOTBALL : CAREER RECORDS

— THEME TUNES — ——

MNF'sfirstthemewas
a groovy slice of 1970s
funk titled “Score,”
composed by Charles
Fox, the genius be-
hind the Happy Days
theme. This was fol-
lowed by a porno-style
ditty imaginatively called “Monday Night
Football Theme” and then in 1989 by Johnny
Pearson’s “Heavy Action,” with a driving beat
and soaring strings. That same year Hank
Williams Jr. adapted his hit “All My Rowdy
Friends Are Coming Over Tonight,” which
introduced MNF from 1991 until 2011, when
Williams appeared to have compared Presi-
dent Obamato Adolf Hitler. This allowed MNF
to return to “Heavy Action,” from which, let’s
face it, the show should never have strayed.

- MONDAY
NIGHT

TUNE IN

Below are the seven most-watched MNF games:

Date Game % of viewers
12/02/85 CHI @ MIA 46
10/02/78 DAL @ WAS 43
12/03/90 NYG @ SFO 42
12/22/80 PIT @ SD 40
11/30/81 PHI @ MIA 40
12/10/79 PIT @ HOU 40
12/17/84 DAL @ MIA 40

Source: Nielsen/NFL

NEE Jerry Rice Yards gained .................4,029 ................. Jerry Rice
M Gary Anderson | Receiving touchdowns.........34..................... Jerry Rice
wies Emmitt Smith Scrimmage yards.............4,116.................. Jerry Rice
er Emmitt Smith Interceptions.................11................. Everson Walls
E Dan Marino SACKS ызуу. езеж ке ые 24.5. eee eee ees... Bruce Smith
Eee Dan Marino Highest punt avg. (in yards) ...48.24.............. Shane Lechler
— Rr Jerry Rice Source: 2015 NFL Record and Fact Book/Elias Sports Bureau

A CHRONOLOGICAL LIST OF ABC AND ESPN PLAY-BY-PLAY ANNOUNCERS AND COLOR COMMENTATORS: Keith Jackson - Howard Cosell - “Dandy” Don Meredith - Frank Gifford - Fred “the Hammer" Williamson -

Alex Karras - “Frantic” Fran Tarkenton - O.J. Simpson - Joe Namath - Al Michaels - Dan Dierdorf - Lynn Swann - Lesley Visser - Boomer Esiason - Dan Fouts - Dennis Miller - Melissa Stark - Eric Dickerson -

John Madden - Lisa Guerrero - Michele Tafoya -

Sam Ryan - Mike Tirico -

Tony Kornheiser - Joe Theismann -

Suzy Kolber - Ron Jaworski -

Jon Gruden - Lisa Salters - Sean McDonough

81

20Q

MILES

TELLER

After facing off against J.K. Simmons in Whiplash, starring in the cursed Fantastic Four and
weathering a snarky cover story, Miles Teller is back with War Dogs and no apologies

sy ALEX SCORDELIS ›нотовскАрнү sy JOYCE KIM

@1: War Dogs is based ona true story about two
Miami potheads who become arms dealers for
the U.S. military. You grew up in Florida—
TELLER: Not in Miami. Miami's its own
thing. I grew up on the Gulf of Mexico.
Floating down rivers on air mattresses,
bonfires in the woods, that sort of thing.
Q2: In the movie, David and Efraim have a
giant Scarface photo in their office. Playing a
20-something gunrunner who makes a fortune
in Miami, did you worry you might be glorifying
your character, creating another Tony Montana?
TELLER: I don’t idolize Tony Montana.
I can relate to the hustle but not to the
craving for power and money. But you
root for the bad guy. In War Dogs, I think
Efraim is a guy who is making terrible
choices. So is my character, David, but
Efraim is more brazen about everything.
They’re fun characters to watch.
Q3: Your family moved around a lot before set-
tling in Florida. How did you take to the Sun-
shine State?
TELLER: I was born in Downingtown,
Pennsylvania. We moved to Georgia
when I was two and then to Delaware for
a little bit. I lived in south Jersey from
the ages of seven to 11— Cape May. I
think Oprah is rumored to have a house
there. Then we moved to Citrus County

in Florida—the manatee capital of the
world. When we first moved there I got
atour of the middle school, and this kid
walked in with cowboy boots, Wranglers,
arebel-flag shirt and a cowboy hat. I was
like, “Oh shit, they must be doing some
kind of play.” Then I saw another kid
wearing the same thing, and it hit me:
That’s where I’m at right now. I took an
agriculture class in the seventh grade
where we had to clean pigs and pick up
cow shit. It was a massive culture shock
for me. But to this day, my best friends
are from Citrus County.

Q4: You were involved in theater in high school.

Was your motivation to meet girls?
TELLER: It wasn’t really to meet girls. I
was the class clown, and I played base-
ball year-round. When I was a sopho-
more, my buddy who was a senior used
to drive me home, and he said he was au-
ditioning for a play. The drama teacher
was pretty hot. She was 28 years old. So
that got me to audition, but entertaining
wasn't foreign to me. I knew I was good
at telling jokes. I was a big smartass.
When I was in school and the teacher
said something and I had something
funny to say, I couldn't not say it. And
my house was always controlled chaos.

Everyone would be playing a musical
instrument, and my oldest sister sang
opera. My mom enjoyed the cacophony
of creation. So I did that play. I remem-
ber doing something the first night and
getting huge applause and laughs, and
that was it.
Q5: What was the play?
TELLER: Footloose. I played the same
role in the movie, which was pretty cool.
@6: You also played Mr. Fantastic in last year’s
Fantastic Four. What was your take on superhero
movies going into it?
TELLER: I wasn’t starving to be a super-
hero. Although at the time—it was a cou-
ple of years ago—if you’re a young man
in this business, a part of you is saying,
“T need to get a Marvel project; I need
to be a superhero,” because you see all
these actors you respect being put in
that world. I would not have wanted to be
Spider-Man because I wouldn’t want the
whole thing riding on my shoulders. I en-
joyed the ensemble element of Fantastic
Four. I wouldn’t wish what happened to
us on another movie. It’s tough, because
there are such high expectations. Comic
books mean so much to a lot of people.
Q7: Would you be interested in doing a sequel?
TELLER: If we do, I hope it comes together

in a way that satisfies people. You want
to make the fans happy, but you can't
please everyone. In our case, we pleased
very few.

Q8: You're wearing a Philadelphia Eagles hat.

From what I gather, you're a Lakers, Eagles and

Phillies fan. If you could switch careers with any

current athlete, who would it be?

TELLER: Mike Trout. He's a Jersey guy.
I would switch places with Mike Trout,
then I would demand a trade to the Phil-
lies. Come back home, Mike.

Q9: with War Dogs and the upcoming PTSD

drama Thank You for Your Service, you've got

two war movies under your belt. If you were

curating a film festival of war movies, what

would you show?
TELLER: Га make Thank You for Your
Service the headliner. That movie fo-
cuses on the transition: We know how
to send guys to war, but we don't know
how to bring them home yet. Abraham
Lincoln used the term soldier’s heart;
he could tell that soldiers were coming
back deeply affected by combat. I'd also
show Saving Private Ryan, Black Hawk
Down and Apocalypse Now.

Q10: You're pretty well trained as an actor—
TELLER: That's exactly right: pretty
well. Because I am a trained actor, but
every time I start a movie I ask myself,
Do I know how to do this?

Q11: So what aspects of your training do you fall

back on when that happens?

TELLER: ГЇЇ tell myself, Okay, after
lunch I have to do a scene where I’m
pissed off or whatever. Now, no one’s
going to tell you how to be pissed. “Hey,
Miles, you gotta be pissed in 10 min-
utes!” You’ve got to force yourself to
think of things that are going to piss
you off, physicalizing it. Sometimes on
set there are instances when you need to
tap into an emotion but you can’t bring
it up. So you end up doing something dif-
ferent, and that creates another moment
that you didn’t plan.

Q12: In your college days at New York Univer-

sity, what was a typical Saturday night out like
in the Village?
TELLER: I couldn't tell you, because we
didn’t go out. It would be me and my bud-
dies smoking a lot of pot, playing video
games, listening to music. Icame froma
small town, lived in the dorms. My clos-
est friend was from Kolkata, just an awe-
some dude. A lot of NYU kids had trust
funds or a lot of money. That wasn’t the
case for me. My parents gave me money
so I could eat, but I wasn’t loaded. We
had two TVs in the dorm room. We just
got high, played video games and lis-
tened to dope music. And we talked a lot.
Q13: What kind of music and what video games?
TELLER: My buddy Bird played a lot of
Manu Chao, especially that song “Bongo
Bong.” The first time I heard that, I said,
“What is that immaculate sound?” And
video games? A lot of Pro Evolution:
Winning Eleven. But now, for transpar-
ency's sake, I'm a FIFA guy.
Q14: Do you keep a lot of musical instruments
around the house?
TELLER: I just scooped up a new drum
set. lalways have a drum set at my house.
Istarted playing in bands when I was 15.
Ijust like playing with other people. I’m
not like my Whiplash character, An-
drew, where I’m trying to be the best at
drumming. For me it’s not about the iso-
lated journey of music; it’s collaborative.
But I like to have options for people to
play. I have a piano, a couple of guitars,
amps. Ijust got a lap steel guitar. I figure
if I keep it around the house, ГЇЇ eventu-
ally learn how to play it.
Q15:! thought you had a reputation as a guy who
likes to party, but on Twitter you post photos of
you and your girlfriend in which you seem pretty
domesticated. Does the public have a warped
perception of who you are?
TELLER: It's tough. You can't get ahead
of it. It started back in high school—I
tried to do a serious scene in class, and
I remember everybody laughing. They
thought it was so funny, and it pissed

me off that I'd lost my audience, that I
was no longer steering them. It still frus-
trates me a little bit. You can read what-
ever or say whatever about me, but I care
about doing interesting work. I’m not
in this for fame. I don't play the social
media game. All I want to do is walk into
a room with actors and collaborate. It
also comes with the movies you’re mak-
ing. I made 21 & Over and Project X in
close proximity. Then when people see
me ata party it’s like, “Miles is this bro."
It's not that I’m not. People are complex
human beings. I enjoy intelligent con-
versation. Most of the time, I'm just lis-
tening to the Dead, working on a role.
ButIalsodrink. I enjoy abit of chaos too.
Q16: When you're enjoying a bit of chaos, what
are you doing?
TELLER: It's all about the group. I like
hosting. If you have the right people
andthe right music, it's all good. In New
York, it’s alot easier to go out to the bars.
In Los Angeles, it’s more club-driven
and VIP-driven. I don’t care about that.
Га much rather be sitting around a fire,
just talking.
Q17: Last year, you were the subject of an Esquire
cover story that you have said misrepresents you.
Since that experience, are you more guarded with
the media?
TELLER: In a way, yes. There are not that
many checks and balances with print.
In that case, or in any case, they can
paint you however they want to paint
you. For an actor, if they’re looking at
your work, they’re seeing it two years
after you did it. But I’ve got these movies
coming out that totally contradict your
image of me. You don’t even know what
I'm working on now.
Q18: Like, | don't know why you have blond hair
right now.
TELLER: I'm sitting here with blond
hair now, readers! If somebody wants
to do a hit piece, they'll do a hit piece.
In that case, the Esquire reporter had
her mind made up long before I showed

AN ANONYMOUS PERSON GAN SAY
MY FACE LOOKS LIKE A FOOT OR
rM TED GRUZ’S DOPPELGANGER.
THAT DOESN’T AFFECT ME.

34

hd

up. What's frustrating is that she calls
me an asshole, and then because it's in
a magazine, people say, “Oh, he must
be.” But I’ve had however many years of
being myself, and I know the kind of per-
son I am. I will defend the person I am
through my actions. People can make
of it what they want. But I think about
so many actors I look up to and wonder
what people were saying about them at
the age of 27 or 28. I’m sure it’s not all
flattering stuff. Who knows? You could
be writing a hit piece. She was being just
as nice as you are.
Q19: You said you're not a social media guy, but
you are on Twitter and you occasionally "favor-
ite" tweets by fans. Isn't it dangerous to read
what anonymous people post about you?
TELLER: An anonymous person, which

is 99 percent of the people on Twitter,
can say my face looks like a foot or I'm
Ted Cruz's doppelgánger. That doesn't
affect me. There have been times, ab-
solutely, when I'll read negative stuff.
Sometimes it’s by acritic or a journalist,
and you can use that as fuel. With Twit-
ter, I like it because I can put things in
my own words. I can write something,
and boom, it goes out to however many
people. It's important to have your own
voice. But I don't do Instagram. People
areon their phones too much. I've been
told that having an Instagram account
will help me book more roles, get more
endorsement deals. It makes you more
of a brand. But I'm not interested. I
wantto build my fan base through mov-
ies and movies alone.

|

Еу

020: What are the best words of advice you've
received from a fellow actor?

TELLER: I’ve never sought out a mentor,
but I’ve learned a lot by working with
great actors like Bryan Cranston, Nicole
Kidman, J.K. Simmons, Aaron Eckhart.
You see how they carry themselves. I’ve
been doing this for almost seven years.
It makes me marvel at where they’re at.
To reach their level, I’ve got to do this for
20 more years and always do something
different. That’s hard to do. Longev-
ity is the goal. But for advice, one time
an actor told me, “When you're on your
own, live your life. But don't mess up in
front of your peers." This guy did not
grow up surrounded by camera phones,
obviously. But your reputation is every-
thing. Don't mess that up. п

35

FILM

Why We Still Need Westerns

Director Antoine Fuqua’s take on The Magnificent Seven is both classic and urgent

Who says the Western is dead? Granted, recent
sagebrush epics Diablo, Jane Got a Gun and
Forsaken bit the dust, but The Revenant made
wagonloads of money and won three Oscars. So
don’t mourn the noble American genre just yet—
especially when director Antoine Fuqua, known
for the edgy cop dramas Training Day and Brook-
lyn’s Finest, delivers alean, mean and timely take
on the 1960 classic The Magnificent Seven.

Like the original—and Akira Kurosawa’s
1954 film Seven Samurai, on which it’s based—
the new Magnificent Seven revolves around a
frontier town whose citizens, brutalized by a
psychotic robber baron (Peter Sarsgaard), buy
the protection of a ragtag band of gunslingers,
played in this outing by heavy hitters includ-
ing Denzel Washington, Ethan Hawke and Lee
Byung-hun. “The best Westerns evolve from
wherever we are as acountry,” Fuquasays. “Right
now, whether it’s terrorists, internet bullying or

Wall Street bankers, we’re at a place where peo-
ple take away the freedoms of others. Something
terrible happens in London, Paris or Orlando,
and we all wish we could help each other and do
something. The movie’s diverse cast makes a
statement: It takes all races coming together to
fight tyranny.”

Fuqua’s love of the genre goes way back.
Hawke, who also starred in Training Day, ob-
serves that “remaking this movie with Antoine
was a perfect fit because of his great eye and his
childhood of obsessively watching Westerns
and Japanese cinema.” But the connection runs
a lot deeper than swords and six-shooters.

“Asa poor kid growing up in Pittsburgh, when
a Western came on TV, my grandmother would
make me something to eat so I could watch sit-
ting right next to her,” Fuqua says. “That was
her way of keeping me off the street. Seeing the
1960 Magnificent Seven was a profound experi-

ence because of moments like when Yul Bryn-
ner and Steve McQueen’s characters defy the
others, who refuse to bury a dead Indian in the
cemetery. They were like giants to me. In my ex-
perience, I’ve seen the guys who run the neigh-
borhoods and take what they want. I’ve gone to
the funerals, seen the moms cry. When anyone
got bullied in school, I was quick to jump in. Part
of that came from loving the guys I saw, watch-
ing TV with my grandmother.”

With The Magnificent Seven, Fuqua has given
that love a massive, mud-spattered canvas and
peopled it with an unstoppable cast. “My first
instinct was that Denzel would be amazing as
a cowboy,” Fuqua says, adding, “because he’s a
great actor, not because of color. But Denzel as
ablack man and a cowboy—that’s an event. The
movie stands on its own, and the theme reso-
nates: people uniting to fight against tyranny.
That's what Westerns can do."— Stephen Rebello

36

FOLLOW THE BUNNY

O O O O QO

/playboy @playboy @ playboy playboy + playboy

BOOKS

Good
Books
for Bad
Times

Five new dystopian novels open the
door to terrifying worlds before
rocketing us back into our own

September of an election year is the cruel-
est month. In addition to experiencing the
standard winter-is-coming heebie-jeebies,
most anyone who cares about politics is wor-
ried that the end is nigh.
Family dinners become
battlegrounds; e-mail
forwards provoke fist-
fights in office parking lots. The turmoil has
a way of showing up on our pages and screens
too, and sometimes the worlds we escape
to are even worse than our own. Obviously
there’s acertain amount of morbid titillation
at work when we spend our free time reading
about pandemics and watching zombies over-
take civilization, but dystopian fiction can
scratch a deeper itch—not only satisfying our
escapist, world-building urges but reminding
us of the beautiful things we’re capable of cre-
ating. Literary-fiction blockbusters of the
past decade have looked at the worst-case sce-
nario in ways that celebrate art while lament-
ing our baser impulses; see Station Eleven,
The Road and California, to name a few.

This fall, a new florescence of titles will
take on the dystopian and the apocalyptic
with varying dashes of gothic horror and fan-
tasy. Here are five to steel you for the dark
days ahead.

ey LYDIA
KIESLING

Fans of Alan Moore can rejoice at
the arrival of Jerusalem, a behe-
moth from the Watchmen author
at least eight years in the making.
The novel reinvents Northamp-
ton, England in a dizzying range
of prose styles, mapping a fantastical his-
tory of Moore’s hometown from ancient times
to “the heat death of the universe.” This

JERUSALEM

apocalyptic travelogue of central England is
more than 1,000 pages long.

A mind-melting literary mys-
tery cum techno-thriller, Michael
Helm’s After James shows us a
world that is recognizably our own.
But the weather is strange and the
events are stranger, as characters
find themselves tangling with sinister pharma-
ceutical companies, prophetic internet poets
and malevolent artists—all of it laid out in three
sections that mirror detective, gothic horror
and apocalyptic genre conventions.

The genre-bending badass Mi-
chelle Tea returns to fiction
with Black Wave. Set in an
alternate-universe 1999 Los An-
8ч geles awaiting a promised арос-
alypse, and replete with Matt
Dillon cameos, Black Wave, like Helm’s book,
investigates what it means to make art in
fraught times. The Pacific Ocean is giving off
poison mist, the environment is ravaged and
amemoirist named Michelle tries to write her
way through a breakup before the world ends.

Joining the ranks of recent hotly
anticipated crime novels such
as The Girls, Kea Wilson’s We
Eat Our Own steps back to the
1970s with a blood-curdling hor-
ror story about making a movie
in the Amazon. Loosely based on the infa-
mous was-it-or-wasn't-it-a-snuff-film Can-
nibal Holocaust, this debut novel imagines
what people are capable of when society is
just out of reach.

Arguably the most anticipated

О пшн
Warum | book of the year, Colson White-
@ heads The Underground Rail-
MG road recounts the odyssey of a
HM young slave named Cora who es-

capes bondage via what White-
head has, in a surrealist twist, imagined as a
literal railway system moving under a set of
states that aren’t quite the states we recog-
nize. Whitehead’s last novel, Zone One, is a
highbrow zombie tale that delineates the hor-
rors of “post-apocalyptic stress disorder.” Now
the author looks backward, showing us that for
true dystopia, you can’t beat our own past. At
least we hope that’s the case.

38

Y PLAYBOY SHOP com

I.

When the world's premier utopian festival
moves to the Israeli desert, grace
and death are only a trance beat away

PHOTOGRAPHY BY

OHAD MATALON

к

Iam dropped off at the Israeli Burning Man by
Amir (not his real name), a professional tour
guide born 60 summers ago in a cave somewhere
nearby in the desolate expanse of the Negev Des-
ert. He was with me the night before, when I
came as close as I ever have to being murdered.

“They’re running a marathon,” Amir half
joked that night as several people, either plain-
clothes police or strapped civilians, bolted
down Ha'Arba'a Street in Tel Aviv toting semi-
automatic assault weapons.

Reflexively trusting him, I took another
bite of sea bream, only to watch a second
round of cargo-shorted Rambos dash past
the window. Had the speakers in this faux
American-Irish gastropub not been bumping
“Sweet Home Alabama,” I would have heard
the spray of bullets.

The restaurant staff swiftly locked the doors,
and our waiter calmly asked us to move away
from the window. For the inconvenience, we
received free tiramisu. Battalions of soldiers,
police and German shepherds canvassed the
block, epileptic blue lights bled through the
glass windows, and a Twitter scroll revealed

that two heavily armed gunmen had just
attempted to slaughter everyone in a Sarona
Market restaurant across the street.

For 15 minutes, the hissing fear that we were
next hung in the air. So this is how my story
ends, I thought, in a knockoff pub, en route to
this country’s version of the Burning Man fes-
tival, called Midburn, where my mission is to
reconcile this Hanukkah of hedonism with
the internecine warfare that has
plagued the region since Israel’s
founding in 1948. How many gal-
lons of Maccabee beer does it take to ignore
the odds that at any point you might be shot,
bombed or sliced into gefilte fish?

Calm prevailed on the humid June night as
the music switched to Simon and Garfunkel
and the Israel Defense Forces swarmed the
streets. “It’s Israel,” the waiter said. “It hap-
pens all the time, but never close to you.” He
scurried off, humming to himself.

They unlocked the doors, and a trail of un-
flappable customers strolled out. By then, news
reports had circulated about a pair of West
Bank cousins influenced by Hamas, dressed

BY JEFF WEISS

in black suits and blasting Carl Gustav-style
rifles, killing four and leaving others wounded.
Our path back to the car led past a welter of or-
ange emergency tape, police lights, ambulance
sirens and grave soldiers in olive uniforms. The
silent drone of news cameras captured those
crying and those offering consolation. A sign-
post read 24-MINUTE WALK TO THE OCEAN.

“T can’t believe it,” Amir muttered, rubbing
his bald skull. “The good people
pay a price for abad few who have
broken the name of Islam.”

A Muslim Bedouin, Amir is in the demo-
graphic often considered one of the nation’s few
neutral players. His Mercedes, Diesel jeans, Polo
shirt and resemblance to an Arab Telly Savalas
clearly align him with the forces of modernity,
but his lineage traces to those nomadic tribes
who owe their principal allegiance to the land.

“I try to show you the right things, but then
this happens," Amir said wearily—exhausted
from the burden of always having to explain.
Written in English, Arabic and Hebrew, an
incantation scrawled on picket signs—^We

-

Israeli Burner attire ranges from standard-issue Coachella zealot to French Montana at a San Bernardino Renaissance Faire.

dreamed / We thought / We spoke / We made / We
created/We conceived/ Abracadabra!”—leads
to the Burning Man entrance. Noble aspira-
tions, sure, butthe concepts hold limited cachet
when you've spent the previous night picturing
masked assassins bursting into your hotel room.

"It looks like Disneyland," Amir says of the
ramshackle rainbow tent city sprouting from
the skeletal desert.

The Midburn fest boasts the blessing of the
original Burning Man, which celebrates its
30th anniversary this Labor Day weekend in
Nevada's Black Rock Desert. Over the past de-
cade, the most chictemporary utopiainthe U.S.
has spread to a global network of “Burns,” the
most popular being South Africa’s AfrikaBurn,
followed by Midburn in Israel, with cozier love-
ins in Australia, New Zealand and Western
Europe. This year, Midburn’s third, organiz-
ers sold more than 8,000 tickets at about $170
a pop—a tremendous increase from the 3,000
pioneers of 2014.

I’ve never made the pilgrimage to the U.S.
Burn, but I’ve perused enough celebrity photo
galleries to assume it’s no longer the untainted
sacral rite it once was. Transcendence is still
accessible, but there’s a limit to how low-key
you can be after Puff Daddy has told the world,
“Burning Man, I'll never be the same." Maybe
Midburn harkens back to the Edenic spirit that

existed before a billionaires’ row cropped up in
the campsites and tech CEOs ate sushi dinners
off nude models at dawn.

Under the blistering late-morning sun a wel-
coming committee approaches: an ebullient
cowboy in alime green hat; aballerino in a pink
tutu, butterfly wings and a cotton-candy wig;
and a girlin a sequined black unitard that looks
like it could be straight from an American
Apparel Purim collection. Amir’s eyes bulge.

“It is very interesting and new,” he says, cau-
tiously warming up. “But this sand and wind
will kill you. Are you sure you don’t want to
come back with me?”

Art installations range from impressive (a
life-size wooden Noah’s ark called No One’s Ark; a
towering burning man and woman) to on-brand
(a glow-in-the-dark raver rabbit stage playing
psy-trance and deep house) to what would have
been blasphemous in ancient Canaan (a golden
statue of Baal). All we're missing is a Red Sea
wave pool that parts when you raise your staff.

We watch 500 people fist-pump to the
Goa trance pounding from a fake pirate ship
beached in what was a barren wasteland until
last week. Amir offers his card and tells me to
call him at any hour if things get too bizarre.
Before he leaves he says, “I get why you want to
stay here, but I’d still prefer Disneyland.”

A musician friend helps me procure a tent

and a place in the Lev (“heart”) Camp—a com-
pound of generous Tel Aviv artists and profes-
sionals, veterans of the American Burn, who
haveconstructed a white geodesic dome to host
meditation and yoga and, more vitally, provide
ashade structure and a kitchen.

And so begins my Holy Land Burn. My ances-

tors withstood Assyrians, Romans, Germans
and both regular and lactose intolerance. I can
survive a few days in a dust-choked tent if it
means learning why an American communal
arts bacchanal has gripped the Israeli psyche—
and maybe feel closer to a people who seem half
alien despite our shared heritage.
“The playa provides.” In the Burner lexicon,
that’s the equivalent of “Everything happens
for a reason,” or the major-key mantra of sage
Palestinian American DJ Khaled: “They will
try to close the door on you...just open it.”

After all, there are no locks here. Approxi-
mately 100 whimsically themed camps ring
acres of dirt flats, and each has its own mantra,
according to Midburn’s website. There’s Where’s
Waldo, Tits Heaven, the Ethnic Demon (“You
will kiss the mezuzah and fall on righteous
graves!”), LED Colored Shrooms and Chai,
Camp Lebowski (with giant bowling pins), El-
ders in Bikinis and AssCream (“We will treat
every visitor with cold and amazing American

42

chocolate ice cream poured out of a huge ass!”).

Even here, though, the specter of death is in-
escapable. It’s more than infamous neuroses,
minor threats to daily existence or compulsory
military service for male and female Jews and
Druze (though only about half actually enlist).
It’s the “never forget” evocation of the Holocaust,
apermanent rupture in the national psyche, the
irreconcilable statistic that just two generations
ago 6 million of our ancestors were murdered. In
my own bloodline, there’s the macabre oral tra-
dition of my great-grandfather who returned
home to Poland after the war to inquire about
his family, only for impassive bureaucrats to tell
him, “No one by that name ever lived here.”

Maybe Midburn is the ultimate revenge on

Hitler. What could needle the mustached fas-
cist more than knowing his plans failed and
the descendants of the survivors are throwinga
massive countercultural freak fest in the same
desert that Abraham wandered?
Around 10 P.M. on Friday, the air now thin and
cold, a wooden Goliath and his Amazonian ef-
figy partner burn. It’s like a high school bonfire
in a Hebrew Hunger Games. All week, atemple
in the middle of the playa serves as a makeshift
shrine. Penitents post photos of dead friends
and tributes to David Bowie; some scrawl mis-
sives onto wooden beams: “Confusion will be
my epitaph,” “Chaos of the soul be gone,” “Free
your balls and the rest will follow.”

In memory of those slain in the Sarona Mar-
ket shooting, I offer a silent prayer to a god I
don't believe in. When I tell others about what
I saw, they apologize profusely as
though bearing personal responsi-
bility. One camp mate offers a hug
and two words: “That’s reality.”

On Saturday, my second and final
night, the playa provides me with
psychedelic dates. It seems only sen-
sible to devour them on my way to
watch Noah’s ark burn, staggering
past the golden statue of Baal, where
aman wearing only a thong is passed out.

It soon becomes clear that tripping in a for-
eign country while cold and filthy, among a
rowdy mob of people chanting to torch a mythi-
cal floating zoo, may not be my wisest decision.
When the ark burns, it’s the biggest inferno
I’ve ever seen. Huge demonic gusts of orange
glowing embers obscure the stars. It looks like
Pompeii, except the people frozen in ash are at-
tempting to instagram.

As the ark smolders, psy-trance menace
swallows the air. The dates leave me nause-
ated. The vibrations are sinister. My only op-
tions are returning to a rickety dust-strangled

tent strewn with dirty clothes or wandering
this neon Mount Sinai, searching for an im-
provised promised land.

Inside my six-by-four-foot tent, I hallucinate
Hieronymus Bosch hellscapes and Francisco
Goya horror scenes: bodies disemboweled,
knives twisted, entrails splattered, skeletons
in caskets. Somehow I become convinced that
the “Pussinema” camp next door—modeled on
а 19205 bordello and offering poetry readings,
witch apprenticeships and tonight’s “Chastity
Belts: Lockup Party”—is being run by satanic
Jewish Nazis and that allowing this torture
constitutes a form of unconditional surrender.
Never again!

I catapult off the floor, miserable, aching,
crazed and wearing my final item of semi-
clean clothing: baggy late-ı990s breakaway
pants. Half the camp is still awake, but they're
all speaking Hebrew and have no interest in the
American acid casualty. I spot the guy who gave
me the psychedelic dates; he’s wearing a velvet
military commander’s suit. He invites me to
watch the sunrise set of Hadas Kleinman and
Aviv Bahar, a vaunted Israeli cello-and-guitar
duo. But first I have to help.

We trudge off again into the pitch-black,
ditch-studded playa. Suddenly a magical
stained-glass village house looms before us. I'm
as high as I’ve ever been in my life, hauling 50-
pound speakers from a rusted pickup to the top
of a sound rig. As an ancient lemon sun rises, a
ragtag caravan of people materializes, spread-
ing blankets and rolling cigarettes, sleepless
and silted with dust. The performance begins,

and I understand none of the lyrics, merely
the spiderweb beauty of the instrumentation
and the universality of the emotions. These are
songs about life and death, love and regret, the
permanent sense of loss that expands with age.

Toward the show’s end, an aging bubbe in
polka-dot pajama pants and Birkenstocks shuf-
fles over and holds out her hand to offer raisins.
I look into her Eastern Europe shtetl face and
thinning red hair, and suddenly I can't see any-
thingbut my own grandmother, long gone—the
daughter ofthe man who returned to Poland to
discover he no longer had a family. I start to
cry. Tattered and broken down, wild-eyed and

overly sentimental, weeping for those I never
knew and those I've loved who aren't coming
back, for everyone murdered at Sarona and for
the killers themselves, for all those trapped in
unbreakable cycles and entranced by the false
promise that murder can make peace. In this
nullifying desert, on these tilting drugs, you
can't avoid yourself or your origins. Our only
reprisal is to create a fleeting oasis out of the
ashes as we collectively wander with fear and
hope until we eventually fall.

On the solitary trek back to the campsite I
feel oddly euphoric, as though I've endured a
purification ritual or one of those offhand il-
luminations when for a split second you feel
aligned with an energy much larger than your-
self. For a nation of scarred people, maybe this
isa way to be healed.

I breathe in the dry air, satisfied that I may
actually understand. Then, out ofthe seven A.M.
calm, Ihear the jackhammer throb of psy-trance.
About 45 minutes later, I wake up looking like
Jon Snow after the Battle of the Bastards. My
face caked in filth, hair knotted, eyes crusted,
breath foul and body hobbled. I beg a few oth-
ers in my camp for a ride back to Tel Aviv, but no
one has room. This is rock bottom. I’m told to go
to the Midburn center station for help, which
means another trip across the playa in the piti-
less sun, my brain like a battered eggplant, and
no one able to understand my mumbled Eng-
lish. By some miracle, I meet Nimrod, a chill
half-Hungarian, half-Persian surfer bro and
survival-skills teacher from northeastern Israel.

IT LOOKS LIKE POMPEII, EXCEPT
THE PEOPLE FROZEN IN ASH ARE
ATTEMPTING TO INSTAGRAM.

“We can work something out,” he says, smil-
ing. “The playa provides.”

He tells me to meet him in an hour in the
parking lot, and when I arrive I can barely be-
lieve my eyes. He’s driving a late-model eight-
seat Land Rover action-hero jeep complete with
water jugs and AC. Just before I hop in the car,
I step in human shit.

Somehow Nimrod doesn’t toss me out. In-
stead he laughs, turns the key in the ignition
and points us out of the dust bowl and back to-
ward civilization. He turns on the radio and
looks at me—the American—and it plays, I
swear to God, “Sweet Home Alabama.” B

45

GAMES

Saving Final Fantasy

The battle-scarred and beloved game finally delivers a lush, action-packed return to form

Arguably, the pop-culture divide between East
and West is nowhere more apparent than in the
realm of role-playing games. In Asia, the fash-
ion is for depth and rigor, as you see in 100-hour
epics such as Star Ocean and Persona. American
gamers prefer the slick and streamlined punch
of Mass Effect and The Witcher. The East wants
depth. We wantto be dazzled.

If anything can bridge the gap, it’s Final
Fantasy, the nearly 29-year-old RPG franchise
from Japanese developer Square Enix. The
game has enjoyed massive popularity since its
debut on the original Nintendo Entertainment
System in 1987, but its past decade has been ill-
starred. Final Fantasy XIV, a Warcraft-style
online multiplayer game, failed to galva-
nize nongamers, and XIII never quite hit the
mainstream. Fans and Square Enix alike have
pinned their hopes on the wildly ambitious
new installment, Final Fantasy XV (PS4,
Xbox One)—and darkly wondered whether an-

other disappointment could snuff out the vast
and minutely wrought world for good.

In FFXVyou play as the Crown Prince Noctis,
son of Regis, king of aland called Lucius. When
the game begins, you’re on a breezy road trip
with your buddies—until an army of killer ro-
bots (what else?) descends on your homeland
and you find yourself in the middle of an all-out
war. It’s Star Wars meets Game of Thrones. Al-
ready you're hard-pressed to imagine a better
blend for the current American palate.

But as it’s wooing Westerners, the game also
makes sure to honor its traditions. Many key
elements are here—including everyone’s fa-
vorite mountable yellow bird, the chocobo—
and overall the game sticks with what Final
Fantasy has always done best: deep combat,
complex lore and rich, sweeping adventure sto-
ries, all of it realized with bleeding-edge tech.
You can still get as involved in the back end as
you'd like; it’s just that FFXV balances pure

entertainment with dense design. It’s equal
parts highbrow opus and popcorn fodder.

The deeper you get into the game, the clearer
it becomes that this is not the Final Fantasy
that recently appeared to be hurtling toward
extinction. FFXV has the scope and scale of
a modern triple-A game, with every battle,
set piece and story beat amplified to super-
size dimensions. There are sports car rides
and airship excursions, robot fights and
magic spells. And once you defeat a glowering,
skyscraper-size giant named Titan, he joins
your side. Final Fantasy has always had fun
with the superpowered creatures in your bat-
tling menagerie—and rest assured that many
favorites from installments past will return—
but none is quite as staggering as this.

Fifteen installments in, Final Fantasy has
proven it can bring the fireworks. This may just
be the turnaround needed to bring this teeming,
endangered world back to life.— Calum Marsh

44

GOLD STAI
VODKA

y
y

DISTILLED FROM GRAIN
21% ALCIVOL (80 PROOF)

750 ML

This country wasn't built by those who
sit idly by. It wasn't built by braggarts
and blowhards. Our country was built by
those who pick life up by the bootstraps
and conquer the challenge. Our vodka
is crafted in the USA with that same
spirit, because that’s what makes us
countrymen. Whether you're strapping
on your boots, or kicking them off,

CONQUER TONIGHT

with

ЗИТ
pet" UI,

GOLD Ar STAR :

Get your hands on the drink
VonuN and the full story at

WWW.GOLDSTARVODKA.US

Bottled at 40 percent-alcohol-by-volume | Distilled from grain. © 2016 Gold Star Ventures, Corp.
Atlanta, GA | Local Choice Spirits Daniel Island, SC.

hd

COLUMN

FRANCOFILE

Author Richard Price on Clockers, The Color of Money, the crack epidemic and
why he doesn’t want to visit your movie set

FRANCO: You've written for my new

show The Deuce, but I hear it's hard to

get you to come to the set.

PRICE: I find the most boring thing

about a movie is the making of the

movie. I was the creator of this show

for CBS called NYC 22. It was about

Harlem rookies. You write the script,

you go on set and you tell the director,

"Look, this is not the way it should

be.” And he goes, “Okay, got it.” Or

you tell the actors, “Listen, man, you

cannot play this like you're a Har-

lem Globetrotter, where you play like

you're a circus clown." They go, *Got

it." And you get a big, complicated

soul handshake, and then they do
whatever the fuck they want anyhow.

It's like, why am I standing around

in January, outdoors, at seven in the
morning with the wind coming off

the river? Fuck this.

FRANCO: You were in your 20s when

you published your first two novels,

The Wanderers and Bloodbrothers.

Both are set in the Bronx, where you

were born. Did you believe that as a novelist
you should use your own experiences?
PRICE: I went to Columbia for the writing pro-
gram, and I realized that the Bronx was kind
of over and I'd never go back there. So I started
writing stories as if I were entertaining people
about what it was like to grow up in the Bronx.
Then I went to Stanford. I'd never been out of
New York state before, and it really made me
feel like all I have of the Bronx is my memory
of it, and if I forget, it's gone. It was a combina-
tion of homesickness and realizing it was over
that made me want to put it all down on paper.
After that I thought, How about we don't write
three novels about the Bronx or some semi-
autobiographical subject? I didn't live in the
Bronx anymore. It was around 1976, and I'd
been living in Manhattan for five years. I
wasn't a kid anymore. So I wrote Ladies’ Man
to try to write about sexuality in 1970s Man-
hattan, among other things. And then it took
me forever to figure out what I wanted to write,

PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAVE MA

BY
JAMES FRANCO

and I fell into a hole. I wrote two novels after
that, but I was writing purely because I was in
a panic about not having a book.

FRANCO: So you have two finished novels that
never came out?

PRICE: I still have them. They're in my draw-
er. Those books need not be exhumed. But by
the time I got to The Breaks, I knew I was des-
perate. Finally I had a story that was saying
something, but it was a nightmare. On top of
everything, hey, you having trouble writing?
Let's become a coke addict! It's like, let's wear
a gasoline jacket to a bonfire.

FRANCO: Oh my gosh. [laughs]

PRICE: So I was really fucked-up and fuck-
ing up. I'd always had offers to write scripts
for Hollywood, so I thought, Well, I’m already
a coke addict, so I might as well be a screen-
writer. Stopping coke was relatively easy once
I made up my mind, but stopping screenwrit-
ing was really hard. Once you start sucking on
that glass, that's celebrity, and it's social.

FRANCO: You wrote scripts for The
Color of Money, Mad Dog and Glory
and other films. Then you wrote
Clockers, one of my favorite books.
David Simon calls it the Grapes of
Wrath of the crack epidemic.
PRICE: The one gift that screenwrit-
ing gave me was that old adage “Write
what you know.” One of the reasons I
stopped writing novels was because
everything I knew was written. But in
screenwriting you say, Well, the guy’s
a pool hustler. I don’t know anything
about pool hustlers. I was forced to
go down to Kentucky and Virginia
and hang out at these nine-ball tour-
naments and meet all these guys.
I realized that you can learn some-
thing, you can absorb something
and you can write about something
without going underground for three
years to make it plausible.
FRANCO: David told me there was a
particular New Jersey detective you
rode around with for Clockers.
PRICE: Being with cops, you see
things you would not otherwise be permitted
to see as a civilian. I remember going to this
devastated housing project in Jersey City.
It was like a tiger cage. This was during the
height of the crack epidemic. And it freaked
me out so badly because it was like the hous-
ing project I’d grown up in, and now it was
like the ninth circle of hell. I became ob-
sessed. Sometimes you are drawn to the thing
that scares you the most, and that’s what
happened with me. All of a sudden I wanted
to get into this world, as opposed to run from
it. I didn’t want to write it as a screenplay,
because I didn’t want people fucking with it,
so I decided to write it as a novel.
FRANCO: You've worked out a way to switch
off between writing novels and writing for
movies and TV. How does that work?
PRICE: I’m 66 years old. It takes me forever to
write a novel. But novels don't pay the bills, so
I’m just fighting—all I want to buy is time to
write a novel. H

46

Urgent: Special Summer Driving Notice

To some, sunglasses are a fashion accessory...

But When Driving,
These Sunglasses
May Save Your Life!

Drivers’ Alert: Driving can expose you to more dangerous
glare than any sunny day at the beach can... do you know

how to protect yourself?

lhe sun rises and sets at peak travel periods,

during the early morning and afternoon
rush hours and many drivers find themselves
temporarily blinded while driving directly into
the glare of the sun. Deadly accidents are regularly
caused by such blinding glare with danger arising
from reflected light off another vehicle, the pave-
ment, or even from waxed and oily windshields
that can make matters worse. Early morning dew
can exacerbate this situation. Yet, motorists strug-
gle on despite being blinded by the sun’s glare
that can cause countless accidents every year.

Not all sunglasses are created equal. Protecting
your eyes is serious business. With all the fancy
fashion frames out there it can be easy to over-
look what really matters—the lenses. So we did
our research and looked to the very best in optic
innovation and technology.

Sometimes it does take a rocket scientist.

A NASA rocket scientist. Some ordinary
sunglasses can obscure your vision by exposing
your eyes to harmful UV rays, blue light, and
reflective glare. They can also darken useful
vision-enhancing light. But now, independent
research conducted by scientists from NASA's
Jet Propulsion Laboratory has brought forth

Slip on a pair of Eagle Eyes? and everything instantly
appears more vivid and sharp. You'll immediately notice
that your eyes are more comfortable and relaxed and
you'll feel no need to squint. The scientifically designed
sunglasses are not just fashion accessories—they are
necessary to protect your eyes from those harmful rays
produced by the sun during peak driving times.

y
ground-breaking technology to help protect
human eyesight from the harmful effects of solar
radiation light. This superior lens technology was
first discovered when NASA scientists looked to
nature for a means to superior eye protection—
specifically, by studying the eyes of eagles, known
for their extreme visual acuity. This discovery
resulted in what is now known as Eagle Eyes®.

The Only Sunglass Technology Certified by
the Space Foundation for UV and Blue-Light
Eye Protection. Eagle Eyes® features the most
advanced eye protection technology ever
created. The TriLenium® Lens Technol-
ogy offers triple-filter polarization to
block 99.9% UVA and UVB — plus the
added benefit of blue-light eye protec-
tion. Eagle Eyes® is the only optic technology

that has earned official recognition from the Space
Certification Program for this remarkable technol-
ogy. Now, that’s proven science-based protection.

The finest optics: And buy one, get one FREE!
Eagle Eyes® has the highest customer satisfaction
of any item in our 20 year history. We are so
excited for you to try the Eagle Eyes® break-
through technology that we will give you a
second pair of Eagle Eyes® Navigator™
Sunglasses FREE—a $99 value!

That’s two pairs to protect your eyes with the best
technology available for less than the price of one
pair of traditional sunglasses. You get a pair of
Navigators with stainless steel black frames and
the other with stainless steel gold, plus one hard
zipper case and one micro-fiber drawstring
cleaning pouch are included. Keep one pair

in your pocket and one in your car,

Your satisfaction is 100% guaranteed. If you are
not astounded with the Eagle Eyes® technology,
enjoying clearer, sharper and more glare-free
vision, simply return one pair within 60 days for a
full refund of the purchase price. The other pair is
yours to keep. No one else has such confidence in
their optic technology. Don’t leave your eyes in the
hands of fashion designers, entrust them to the best

ED

PETE

Cefoundation ^

Studies by the National Highway
Traffic Safety Administration
(NHTSA) show that most (74%)
of the crashes occurred on
clear, sunny days

Navigator'"
Black Stainless
Steel Sunglasses

Receive the Navigator" Gold Sunglasses
(a $99 value) FREE! just for trying the
Navigator™ Black

Navigator™
Gold Stainless
Steel Sunglasses

Certified EAGLE EYES® was developed
from original NASA Optic technology
and was recently inducted into the

Space Foundation Technology Hall of Fame.

Fit-ons available for
$39 +S&H

Black or Tortoise-Shell design

scientific minds on earth. Wear your Eagle Eyes®
Navigators with absolute confidence, knowing
your eyes are protected with technology that was
born in space for the human race.

Eagle Eyes? Navigator™ Sunglasses $991
Offer Code Price $49 « S&P Save $50

PLUS receive the Navigator™ Gold absolutely

FREE!—2 pairs for the price of one!

1-800-333-2045

Your Insider Offer Code: EEN483-03
You must use this insider offer code to get

our special price.

Staue

ACCREDITED

® 14101 Southcross Drive W.,
Dept. EEN483-03
Burnsville, Minnesota 55337
www.stauer.com

BUSINESS

Rating of A+
T Special price only for customers using the offer code versus
the price on Stauer.com without your offer code.

Smart Luxuries—Surprising Prices™

SPORTS

Marijuana Isa
Team Sport

Former NFL player Eben Britton on why it’s time for the league to embrace medicinal marijuana

It was week seven of the 2010 NFL season and
we were in Kansas City in front of a riotous
crowd. I knew we were in for a bloodbath from
the national anthem. I stood on the sideline,
hand over my heart, feeling the vibrations of
the stadium. Adrenaline and cortisol pumped
through my veins, along with Adderall, hydro-
codone and Toradol. My body felt tight. My
shoulders ached. My mind raced.

In the middle of the second quarter our
offense put together a solid drive. The play call
was azone to the right, and we broke the huddle
at the Chiefs’ 15-yard line. The ball was hiked,
and I smashed through the outside shoulder of
the defensive end in front of me. Derrick John-
son, the Chiefs’ Pro Bowl linebacker, came
screaming over the top and buried his helmet
between my collarbone and right shoulder.
With my legs tangled up in the wave of crash-
ing bodies, I went to the ground, landing on my
right elbow at a 90-degree angle. I felt some-
thing shift. When I picked myself up off the
ground, I realized my shoulder was dislocated.
We were five yards from the goalline and a play
away from atouchdown. I couldn'ttap out. Grip-
ping my right triceps, I jerked my torso back
and pulled the arm forward, sliding the head of
my humerus back into my shoulder socket. We
scored on the next play, and I jogged to the side-
line, yelling for a trainer to find me a harness.

The doctor questioned me, but I was breath-
ing fire. Ina flurry, my pads were off and a har-
ness secured, locking my shoulder back into
place. The pads came on and I ran back onto the
field. We were in our two-minute drill. No hud-
dle. On the second play, a pass out of the shot-
gun, I baited Chiefs linebacker Mike Vrabel
with my right arm. He clubbed it across my
body and back out of position. The harness was
now holding my upper arm out of the socket. I
sprinted to the sideline. It took three team doc-
tors to get my shoulder back in place.

I walked off the field and into the tunnel in
a haze of heroism. Someone helped me out of
my gear. My right arm now hung on the verge
of falling out of the socket again. I showered,
got dressed and put my arm in the sling. I
watched the second half of the game in sweats

from the sideline. Afterward I was told that
my injury would require surgery and that I
was done for the season.

I had never been so badly injured that I
couldn't continue to play. The doctors gave
me pills for the pain, but the pills had a way of
making me angry, fuelingthe frustration of not
being able to use my arm. They turned me into
a victim. My body didn't like the pills either.
Once, after taking one, I felt a pang behind
my eyes, causing them to flutter and blink un-
controllably; then things went fuzzy. The pang
turned to a bang and I had to lie down. When I
woke up the next morning I was overwhelmed
by a debilitating migraine. I could barely open
my eyes, much less think. It became clear the
migraines were my body's way of telling me it
didn't care for the pills.

I had used cannabis before, but it wasn't
until my shoulder injury that I began to un-
derstand its medicinal power. For the first
time in my football career I unwittingly con-
ducted my own experiment on the efficacy of
various pain-relieving methods. The contrast
between the effects of marijuana and hydro-
codone, as well as between marijuana and the
anti-inflammatories I was taking, was remark-
able. With pills, Iexperienced little relief from
pain and a slew of side effects including severe
migraines, insomnia, massive mood swings,
irritability and trouble controlling my anger.
With cannabis I felt calm and relaxed, which
placed me in a state of healing. The aching
pain in my shoulder, my bones and the rest of
my body hushed to a quiet hum with no nega-
tive side effects.

The problem was that my employer didn't ap-
prove. The NFL's current stance is that canna-
bis is an illegal “street drug,” and players are
tested for THC annually. The test is done any-
timeduring mandatory team activities, usually
beforethestartofthe regularseason, according
tothe current collective-bargaining agreement
between the NFL and the National Football
League Players Association. Since the new
agreement was signed in 2011, the terms have
been reinterpreted—and misinterpreted—to
the point that players barely understand them.

Of course, part of being a pro is being compe-
tent enough to pass adrug test.

“Do they test us during OTAs?” someone
asks in a dimly lit locker room.

“Nah, man, they won’t test us until mini-
camp,” another answers.

“No way, brother. Bullshit. They started test-
ing people yesterday.”

A slow silence settles across the room.

Better stop smoking pretty soon, most of us
say to ourselves.

We’ve all heard tales of what it’s like to be
busted for pot by the league. The first time
a player tests positive for marijuana he gets
put “in the program.” Details about the
substance-abuse program are dark and vague.
The individual’s energy completely changes,
and you know that “the program” is something
to be avoided. A second failed test results in a
two-week fine. After that, the punishments in-
clude a four-week fine, a four-game suspension
and then a 10-game suspension.

The NFL doles out these punishments even
though 20 of its teams are in places where
medical marijuana is legal. And legalization
will spread. There is mounting research that
shows the medicinal properties of cannabis
include healing broken bones, reducing pain
and aiding in recovery following traumatic
brain injury. A key focus in this research has
been the endocannabinoid system, a group of
naturally occurring cannabinoid receptors in
the brain, heart, lungs and bones, as well as
throughout the nervous system. This part of
our bodies is responsible for a variety of phys-
iological processes, including appetite, pain
sensation, mood and memory. When bodily
damage occurs, whether it’s a broken bone or
a concussion, endocannabinoids flood the re-
ceptor sites, initiating the healing process.
With medical marijuana, the THC and canna-
bidiol in the cannabis aid the body in reducing
inflammation and bolstering the effects of our
own cannabinoid system. Plus, it’s safer than
the addictive opioids league doctors hand out.

For anyone whose job involves beating their
body up every week, medicinal marijuana is a
blessing. It’s time the NFL treated it that way. Ш

ILLUSTRATION BY KALEN HOLLOMON

48

2

POLITICS

The Real Mad Men

How advertising executives use hope, dreams and even fear to
sell American voters a candidate

A top Republican ad maker sits in the
living room of his house under the Hol-
lywood sign, explaining how he uses a
three-act structure to sell a candidate.

“My spots introduce the candidate ina

broad, glorious, positive way,” says Fred
Davis, founder of Strategic Perception,
a firm that has produced GOP commer-
cials since 1994. “In act two, we bring in
conflict—maybe a jousting match be-
tween candidates over the issues,” he
says, looking out past the movie studios.
“In act three, my guy prevails, and we
deliver an uplifting end.”

On the wall hang 22 large frames with
color head shots of the politicians he’s
helped, including John McCain and
George W. Bush.

When Davis was running media ear-
lier this year for John Kasich’s super
PAC, New Day for America, his world
was upended by Donald Trump’s insur-
gency. That hasn’t stopped him from daydream-
ing about how he’d advise Trump. “Maybe he’s
not even in the ads,” says Davis. “It’s just people
talking about their hopes and dreams and how
Trump can help fulfill them.”

By this time, presidential nominees and their
admen are supposed to be running at full tilt,
spending hundreds of millions of dollars on TV
time. But in this irregular election, even the ad
wars are surreal. Trump regards traditional po-
litical ads as outdated, as his billionaire friend
Tom Barrack explained to CNN in June: “The
raising of money is an antique. Super PACs are
antiques. We’re testing a system just like every
disruptive technology that’s in the market today,
which is almost antipolitical and anti-rules.”

Thus a mysterious entity called Draper
Sterling—created by an unknown Mad Men
addict and linked toa house in Londonderry, New
Hampshire—received $35,000 from Trump’s
campaign for “web advertising” in late April,
according to Federal Election Commission dis-
closures. That’s not exactly Ogilvy.

sy JOHN MERONEY

Meanwhile, Democrats are torn on how to sell
Hillary Clinton, even though she’s been in pub-
lic life for almost 40 years. There’s the voice-
of-God Morgan Freeman approach, pushing
“Together—a stronger country” in black-and-
white spots, or the ones attacking Trump, witha
concerned voice announcing, “Inavolatile world,
the last thing we need is a volatile president."

“The real Hillary, which people don't really
believe, is different from the public image of
Hillary" says Jimmy Siegel, former senior
executive creative director at BBDO, whose
clients included Visa and Pepsi. In 2008, Clin-
ton'scampaign hired him to produce ads, which
proved challenging. “She’s awarm, empathetic
person,” he says. “And that has been hard to
communicate in advertising in both of her cam-
paigns. But I think it’s still important to try.”

That problem is also complicated because
Clinton relies on the same old, same old. Rather
than putting her image in the hands of creatives
outside politics (as Bill did when he enlisted the
creator of the Designing Women TV series to

make his 1992 convention film), Clinton

entrusts herself to Mandy Grunwald, a

senior communications advisor who has

been with the Clintons since 1992. Even

if some candidates understand that the

best ads in politics have sprung from the

heads of non-politicos in ad agencies,

chances are they won't make the change.

“The agency people think the politi-

cos are a bunch of hacks, and the polit-

ical people think the agency people are

a bunch of candy-asses interested more

in lighting and camera angles than in

message,” explains Martin Puris, who

crafted BMW’s “The ultimate driving

machine” slogan and later worked for

President George H.W. Bush’s reelection.

Sometimes campaigns get it right. For

his 1968 presidential campaign, Rich-

ard Nixon brought in an ad exec who'd

made commercials for Ford and Pan Am.

He won in an electoral landslide. When

President Ronald Reagan ran for reelection in

1984, his campaign turned to a San Francisco

adman known for romantic commercials for

Gallo wines. The result was “It’s morning again

in America,” the opening line to what’s acknowl-

edged as one of the best campaign ads ever. And

the most powerful advertising for then senator

Barack Obama—the iconic 2008 HOPE poster—

was created by street artist Shepard Fairey, who
had no ties to the political establishment.

“The problem is that political ads tend to look
and sound the same,” says Siegel. “It’s the cast
of characters who change. So getting people
from outside the political arena who are more
trained to say, ‘How do we break through the
clutter?’ can be very effective.”

Whit Hiler, a master of viral campaigns and
one of the nation’s leading creatives, admits
he’s “not really into politics” but offers what
could be a masterstroke for a campaign: “Use
the Top Gun anthem. That theme is amazing.
I think it would make people stop what they're
doing and pay attention.” L|

How to Be Cut Off From Civilization

When it’s you against nature, there’s only one tool you need:
the stainless steel River Canyon Bowie Knife—now ONLY $49!

ү" аге a man of the wilderness. The only plan you have is to walk up that
mountain until you feel like stopping. You tell your friends that it’s nothing
personal, but this weekend belongs to you.

You've come prepared with your River Canyon Bowie Knife sheathed at your
side. This hand-forged, unique knife comes shaving sharp with a perfectly fitted
hand-tooled sheath. The broad stainless steel blade shines in harmony with the
stunning striped horn, wood and bone handle. When you feel the heft of the knife
in your hand, you know that youre ready for whatever nature throws at you.

This knife boasts a full tang blade, meaning
the blade doesn’t stop at the handle, it runs
the full length of the knife. According to
Gear Patrol, a full tang blade is key, saying “A
full tang lends structural strength to the knife,
allowing for better leverage ...think one long
steel beam versus two.”

With our limited edition River Canyon
Bowie Knife you're getting the best in 21st-
century construction with a classic look
inspired by legendary American pioneers.
What you wont get is the trumped up price
tag. We know a thing or two about the
hunt— like how to seek out and capture an х

: > : : BONUS! Call today and you'll
outstanding, collectors-quality knife that also receive this genuine
wont cut into your bank account. leather sheath!

This quintessential American knife can be yours to use out in the field What customers are saying,
or to display as the art piece it truly is. But dont wait. A knife of this about Stauer knives...

caliber typically cost hundreds. Priced at an amazing $49, we cant T7

guarantee this knife will stick around for long. So call today! “FIRE OR E dar
Your satisfaction is 100% guaranteed. Feel the knife in your hands, у, d ality 2 i 2 dar
wear it on your hip, inspect the craftsmanship. If you dont feel like we I paid for the knife | "0
cut you a fair deal, send it back within 60 days for a complete refund Раа еа
of the sale price. But we believe that once you wrap your fingers
around the River Canyon’s handle, youll be ready to carve your own

niche into the wild frontier.

am a satisfied customer!”
— D., Houston, Texas

River Canyon Bowie Knife $79*
Offer Code Price Only $49 + S&P Save $30

1-800-333-2045

Your Insider Offer Code: RCK162-01
You must use the insider offer code to get our special price.

St @ 14101 Southcross Drive W., Dept. RCK162-01

Aller Burnsville, Minnesota 55337 WWW.stauer.com $
BBB

*Discount is only for customers who use the offer code versus the listed original Stauer.com price. Rating of A+

Not shown
actual size.

ACCREDITED

e Full tang 4 14" stainless steel blade, 9" overall length • Genuine horn, wood and bone handle • Polished brass guard and spacers • Includes leather sheath

Smart Luxuries—Surprising Prices

INTERVIEW

ANDY SAMBERG

If he wanted to, Andy Samberg could still be ruling viral video with shorts like Dick in a Box,

that indelible ode to the joys of gift wrapping your junk and presenting it to your lover. After
Saturday Night Live lobbed that comedy grenade, co-written by Samberg and recorded with
Justin Timberlake, it hit 28 million views in less than a year. Later cited by Billboard as
one of “the most iconic musical moments in the show's history," it copped an Emmy and in-
spired two sequels, to say nothing of the countless fan reworkings. Samberg chased that one
with other huge SNL digital shorts, including Jizz in My Pants, a New Wave banger about
premature ejaculation that to date has more than 153 million views; I'm on a Boat, the
Grammy-nominated nautical rap featuring T-Pain; and I Just Had Sex, featuring Akon.

All these Samberg created with SNL writ-
ers Jorma Taccone and Akiva Schaffer, Sam-
berg's buds since junior high and inseparable
creative partners.

Instead of settling into a career as ayounger
hybrid of “Weird Al” Yankovic and Adam
Sandler, Samberg has pivoted toward a sun-
nier, more middle-of-the-road and—dare we
admit it?—more family-friendly audience.
He left his seven-season SNL stint in 2012
and played Sandler’s long-lost son in the movie
That's My Boy, lettingthe star handle most of
the cruder, more desperate jokes. He spent
nearly two years playing a New Age slacker on
the BBC Three sitcom Cuckoo. He even went
G-rated, voicing characters in the Cloudy
With a Chance of Meatballs movies, a pair
of Hotel Transylvania entries—forerunners
to the upcoming Hotel Transylvania 3—and
Storks, out this month. He won a 2014 Golden
Globe for his performance as a man-child
detective on Brooklyn Nine-Nine, the fourth
season of which kicks off this month. He per-

formed at last year's Oscars and hosted the
2015 Emmy Awards. He also co-wrote, co-
produced and starred (as a drop-crotched
and distinctly Bieberesque entertainer) in
this summer's warmhearted satire Popstar:
Never Stop Never Stopping. Oh, and in 2013
he married his longtime girlfriend, singer-
songwriter-harpist-actress Joanna Newsom,
with whom he handpicked and restored the
furnishings for their 1920s mansion. Smart
moves, all of them, for a baby-faced comedian
bearing down on 40.

David A.J. Samberg was born in Berkeley,
California on August 18, 1978. His mother re-
cently retired from teaching special-needs
elementary school students; his father is a
photographer. Far from the most attentive
student at Willard Junior High, where he met
Taccone and Schaffer, Samberg dedicated
himself to cracking up his classmates, soak-
ing up the comedy chops of various Saturday
Night Live casts and watching classic come-
dies on TV. After high school, he spent two

PHOTOGRAPHY BY LODD COLE

years at the University of California, Santa
Cruz before switching to New York Univer-
sity’s Tisch School of the Arts, from which
he graduated in 2000. He reunited in Berke-
ley with Schaffer and Taccone, and the trio
moved to Los Angeles—into an apartment
they dubbed the Lonely Island, which be-
came the namesake of their collective com-
edy endeavors. Their early video work led
to Samberg landing an agent, auditioning
for SNL and joining the cast in 2005, with
Schaffer and Taccone signing on as writers.
That first year, their Lazy Sunday digital
short marked the first time millions of peo-
ple uttered the term viral video. Since then,
they’ve released four albums, partnered ona
few movies and generally made friends with
every celebrity you can name. Without sacri-
ficing his relatable dorkiness, Samberg has
set out for full-spectrum comedy penetration
on a worldwide scale.

Contributing Editor Stephen Rebello, who
spoke with Don Cheadle for the April Playboy

Interview, spent a recent afternoon with
Samberg in West Hollywood. “Don't let Andy
Samberg’s smug, sometimes punchable screen
vibe fool you,’ says Rebello, “because here’s a
guy who’s surprisingly thoughtful and canny.
Whether he’s talking about his past, his career,
his tastes or his goals, he isn't afraid to sound
smart or sincere. He knows exactly what’s up
and where he’s headed. Frankly, I didn't see it
coming. But what a relief.”

PLAYBOY: You're best known for being an
SNL cast member, making viral videos and
hosting awards shows. What made you want to
saddle up for a workplace sitcom like Brooklyn
Nine-Nine?

SAMBERG: People who know
my actual personality know I’m
not walking around rapping
about dicks all the time. That’s
just one part of who I am, and it
happens to be the most popular
part. Doing Brooklyn Nine-Nine
changed a lot of people’s opin-
ion of me. They were able to see
the humanized me, for which I’m
grateful. Michael Schur created
both Brooklyn Nine-Nine and
Parks and Recreation, and there’s
such sweetness to both shows. By
the nature of the characters’ pro-
fession and the locale, Brooklyn
is aslightly tougher, more cynical
universe than Parks, but it’s an
equally heartfelt universe.
PLAYBOY: Was the role of Detec-
tive Jake Peralta—wisecracking,
highly competent, immature,
emotionally stunted, upbeat—
written for you?

SAMBERG: There was no script when they
pitched me the kernel of the idea and asked me
if I wanted to do it. From the point I said yes,
they wrote toward me. I knew Amy Poehler,
of course, from working with her on SNL, so
I talked with her about her experience with
Parks. I had also done a guest acting role on
Parks, and it was so fun, so comfortable. It just
felt like a good life.

PLAYBOY: What’s up with your character
this season?

SAMBERG: Jake and Captain Ray Holt [Andre
Braugher] are in Florida in witness protection.
So we have new stuff to play with and I'm really
excited. It’s one of those rare work experiences
where I work on a show I adore, everybody gets
along, andIlove everyone I work with. I've been

INTERVIEW

lucky so far with this one and the fact that, by
all accounts, I was on SNL during one of its
least dysfunctional times ever.

PLAYBOY: You grew up in Berkeley in the
1990s. If you made a music video of your expe-
riences in northern California back then, what
would be the vibe, the sound and the look of it?
SAMBERG: The sound would be a lot of early-
1990s hip-hop, R&B, reggae, dancehall and
a heavy Latino influence. The look would be
Cross Colours and Girbaud jeans, and the
smell would be Drakkar Noir—or Preferred
Stock if you couldn't afford Drakkar. All that
mixed with avibe of the civil rights movement
and original 1960s-era hippies. It was a fasci-

Our generation
wasn’t doing
anything but

wearing super-
baggy clothes
and condoms

all over.

nating and wonderful place to grow up, defi-
nitely the melting pot people say it is.
PLAYBOY: How is Berkeley not like what peo-
ple say it is?

SAMBERG: Berkeley is less hippie and
touchy-feely than people think it is. That was
the 1960s. The version I grew up in was much
more “city,” although when I was a kid there
were still lots of walkouts and protests. You
werelivingina world that was more politically
charged just by the nature of the city's history.
It's almost expected.

PLAYBOY: Asa kid, how did you navigate those
social, political and pop-culture currents?
SAMBERG: By being into a lot of different
stuff. I would describe myself as not cool but
not unpopular. I played soccer, so I knew a lot

of people who were athletic. I listened to reggae
and smoked weed sometimes, so I would hang
out in the park, play Hacky Sack and go with
friends to Reggae on the River. I was into clas-
sic rock like Floyd and Zeppelin, so I'd hang
with those dudes. I was really deep into hip-
hop, so I would hang out with those dudes and
with the graffiti dudes and the skater dudes.
PLAYBOY: Did those dude groups intersect?
SAMBERQG: The Venn diagram had a big in-
tersection, and that is the beauty of growing
up in Berkeley. Kids there were the way I see a
lot of young people now—I say “young people"
like I'm super old, but they're young to me. It
was one of those places that was slightly ahead
of the curve of the internet. Now,
with the internet, alot of kids are
into a ton of different stuff. But
culturally, socially, musically,
my friends and I were already
that way in the 1990s, when kids
in other parts of the country may
have been a little more factional-
ized in their interests.
PLAYBOY: What were the ad-
vantages and disadvantages of
being the youngest kid in your
family, and the only boy, with
two older sisters?

SAMBERG: I was a textbook
youngest child. I got a lot of posi-
tive attention. I had an easy ride. I
don’t try to paint it any other way.
I saw my sisters go through their
trials and learned by watching
their experiences. By the time I
was going through my teen years,
my parents were more mellow. I
never got into trouble that much.
PLAYBOY: Define “that much.”
SAMBERG: Like drinking with buddies, pass-
ing out at a friend’s house, getting home and
my parents being like, “Where the fuck were
you? We were worried.” But I never got caught
stealing or cheating. I kind of cruised. I had a
very enjoyable time growing up. I was always
sort of the tension-breaker. Not that there was
a ton of tension in my family, but I was the
goofy one who was always being sarcastic, jok-
ing around and trying to lighten the mood.
PLAYBOY: Your mother and father had noth-
ing to do with show business.

SAMBERG: My mom just retired from teach-
ing elementary school, primarily in the
special-needs program because she’s fluent
in sign language and is partly hard of hearing
herself. She uses hearing aids.

hd

PLAYBOY: Was she born with a hearing
problem?

SAMBERG: It didn't begin until, I believe, she
was in her 40s. But long before that she had
learned sign language. She just was drawn to
it and followed that instinct. She feels she sub-
consciously somehow just knew, which is so
strange and interesting. If it were anyone else
saying that, I’d be like, “Yeah, right.” But I’m
inclined to believe her. She has strong, clear in-
stincts. That’s kind of her deal. She’s the best.
PLAYBOY: Your father, who is a professional
photographer, is also very talented.

His photos—of kids smoking weed,

guys with painted faces tripping

out and hippies and their “mamas”

leaning against their motorcycles—

look found rather than staged. It’s

the kind of thing that period movies

almost never get right.

SAMBERG: When people nail a

period in film and television, it’s
immensely satisfying. I think

the TV series The Americans gets

the 1980s right. I thought David

Fincher did a really nice job with

the 1960s and 1970s in Zodiac. For

that same reason the first Alien

somehow feels honest about the

future: It’s not saying, “Hey, look

at all of this futuristic stuff.” The

stuff is all just there, and it’s used

stuff. For me, the silent minutes

at the beginning of Alien is one

of the best sequences in film his-

tory. I loved Prometheus too, and

it looked fucking amazing. So few

people goas far as the level of detail

that Ridley Scott and everyone else

put into it. I’m big into sci-fi movies

and novels, always have been.

PLAYBOY: Your dad has shot in-

credibly striking nudes. As a kid, did

you secretly rifle though his files?
SAMBERG: When he started doing that kind
of work, I was in high school, so I was more
mature about it. It was definitely a slightly
strange moment to understand that my dad,
who's married to my mom, goes to work and
takes photographs of naked women. But then
you see the photos and you think, Oh, it's very
much about art and doesn't feel voyeuristic.
And my mom didn't seem to care. They had a
good thing going.

PLAYBOY: How much were girls a part of your
life growing up?

SAMBERG: I was always a relationship guy. In

INTERVIEW

college and right after college, I was in a cou-
ple of long-term relationships. I didn't play
around. That's the influence of having two
older sisters.

PLAYBOY: You didn’t wait until college to lose
your virginity, though, did you?

SAMBERG: I was, I believe, 16 or 17. It was at
summer camp. I was on the junior staff and
she was girls’ head counselor. She was 24.
She could tell I probably was a virgin. I was
flirty; there was a friendship and a playful
thing between us, but I didn’t really think it

would ever be real because of the age differ-
ence. I think she just decided for me. It was
only once. I wouldn’t say I was good, but it was
great for me.

PLAYBOY: Were your parents cool about sex?
SAMBERG: My folks, my mom especially,
were hippies from New York who moved to the
Bay Area in the summer of 1970 or 1971. We
had this cartoony book that we’d flip through,
with illustrations of a sort of doughy-looking
couple having sex and text explaining where
babies come from and all that. There was not
a ton of talk about it. But my teen years were
in the 1990s, and there was so much talk about

safe sex because of AIDS. My friends and I
joke a lot about how the generation before
us was all coked-up and fucking, the genera-
tion after us was all on ecstasy and fucking,
and our generation wasn’t doing anything but
wearing super-baggy clothes and condoms all
over. We were the D.A.R.E. generation, the
scared generation.

PLAYBOY: Growing up, did you have sexual
fantasies about any celebrities?

SAMBERG: I was enamored of Cyndi Lauper,
just obsessed, when I was a kid. I’ve never
met her, but I’m friendly with Paul
Reubens, who’s friendly with her. I’ve
gushed to him about how much I love
her. She’s incredible. I still listen to
her first record, She's So Unusual, all
the time. It's a perfect album, and not
just the cuts that were hits.
PLAYBOY: You said that you had
a lot of friends in different groups.
Is it an unwarranted cliché that all
comedians were loners as kids?
SAMBERG: I can be on my own
for hours, but I much prefer to be
around people. When Akiva, Jorma
and I were working at SNL, the walk
to the restroom was long. I would
always ask people if they wanted to
come with me because I didn’t want
to be lonely on the walk.

PLAYBOY: Would they humor you?
SAMBERG: Sometimes. And if they
weren't ready, I'd wait them out.
PLAYBOY: Do you remember the
first time you got a laugh? There's
а 1986 video floating around of you
as a third-grader, when you played
Daddy Warbucks in Annie. Back-
stage you were already bouncing up
and down and pretty much going,
“Look at me!”

SAMBERG: I don’t remember my
first laugh, but I know that making people
laugh was my way in. It was just what I was good
at early on, and I went with it. Like a lot of peo-
ple say, “Oh, I developed a sense of humor to
traverse the world socially"—which is a word I
definitely use, traverse.

PLAYBOY: It doesn’t sound as though you
needed it the way others do.

SAMBERG: I just loved it. I loved it imme-
diately. Even when I was really little, I found
Garfield books in the library, and I was like,
“There are jokes in this and I’m going to con-
sume and interpret this.” I was six or seven and
wanted to get The Far Side calendars or the

QU
Y

comedy catalogs where you can order whoopee
cushions and the most base comedy stuff. And
very early I started watching SNL, Mel Brooks
movies and Monty Python. I was drawn to it. I
knew that’s what I loved. SNL was my dream
from the time I was eight.

PLAYBOY: Video shorts were what put you on
the map and helped you realize your dream of
getting on SNL. When did you first pick up a
camera and start making stuff?

SAMBERG: Willard Junior High and Berke-
ley High School were the first times I recall
shooting things where I was hoping to be
funny. My family got a home video camera
around 1988, and a friend and I started shoot-
ing “sketches.” Even before
that, in elementary school, my
friends and I took a boom box
with a cassette, a mike anda
“record” option and we would
do crappy little-kid versions of
radio plays and stuff like that.
I met Akiva and Jorma at Wil-
lard, and much later I went to
the University of California,
Santa Cruz, where Akiva was
majoring in film. But I trans-
ferred my junior year of college
to study film in New York at the
Tisch School of the Arts. Since
1988 until probably today, all
I’ve really done is try to put
comedy on film or video.
PLAYBOY: After college, when
and how did you, Akiva and
Jorma reconnect?

SAMBERG: That first sum-
mer after we all graduated,
we showed each other all the
stuff we’d been making. We
clearly wanted to do the same thing and we
were already friends, so why not band to-
gether? Strength in numbers, as the Golden
State Warriors would say—until they got beat.
Heartbreaking. Yeah, I'm a huge fan. Anyway,
we debated staying in our parents’ basements,
trying to shoot stuff in Berkeley and maybe
putting together a website.

PLAYBOY: In the end, you opted to share an
apartment in Los Angeles.

SAMBERG: That apartment was the original
Lonely Island. That’s what we named it. Hav-
ing just lived in a one-bedroom apartment in
New York with my buddy [writer-director]
Chester Tam and a lot of mice, this place on
Olympic Boulevard felt big. We turned the
dining room into a fourth bedroom, put up a

INTERVIEW

partition and crammed four dudes into that
apartment. Even so, it was pretty big. I mean,
we set up our original Nintendo and I remem-
ber thinking, Wow, L.A. is very comfortable.
We hung out, shot stuff, started writing and
worked odd jobs.

PLAYBOY: How odd?

SAMBERG: I worked acouple of temp jobs and
got fired from one because I was late, which is
still a problem for me. My first actual job was
working the graveyard shift in the vault of a
color-correction company. They’d plop down
50 reels of film in boxes and Га enter them 100
percent accurately into this antiquated and
complicated system. It was mind-numbing,

I took off my
pants to reveal
these crazy-tight
shorts. Lorne
says that was the
moment he de-
cided to hire me.

but the people I worked with were very nice.
That same year, my dad suggested that if I
went to grad school, maybe I could become a
film professor. I remember using it as moti-
vation. He was just being sweet, but I was like,
“How could you give up on me?” I also contin-
ued to do stand-up, which I’d started doing my
junior year of college in New York. I did that
for the next five years in L.A., before we got
hired on SNL.

PLAYBOY: What did you learn from doing
stand-up?

SAMBERG: A lot of comedians do open-mike
nights as a badge of honor. I didn’t get much
out of that. It was more useful to do “bringer
shows,” where you harangue three to five peo-
ple to pay too much money to come see you. In

that setting, I was able to much better gauge
whether my stuff was working with real people
and not just comics. I read Harpo Marx’s auto-
biography, and it was so eye-opening to learn
how the Marx brothers would tour their shows
across the country, then wind up in L.A. and
shoot the movie version in, like, three takes.
Incredible. They’d rewrite on the fly and do
their live shows over and over, knowing for a
fact which jokes worked everywhere. Now you
do it in reverse order: have atest screening, see
what works and then go shoot more.
PLAYBOY: And you and your two buds contin-
ued to make shorts?

SAMBERG: There is a monthly event-network-
website thing called Channel
101, started by Dan Harmon,
who went on to create Commu-
nity, and Rob Schrab, who later
co-created The Sarah Silver-
man Program. They screen a
bunch of fake TV shows of five
minutes or less. A live audience
votes and the top “shows” get
“renewed,” meaning you make
another episode and just keep
going until you're eliminated. It
started as an exercise for them
and their friends, then it got
more traction and they started
to get submissions from all
over. We created a few shows for
it, the most successful of which
was The ‘Bu, a deadpan spoof
of The O.C. I love that Zucker
brothers style of dry comedy.
That's where we met Jack Black
and Steve Agee and lots of really
cool people in comedy.
PLAYBOY: You were asked
to write your first MTV Movie Awards, with
Akiva and Jorma, in 2004. Was that an off-
shoot of Channel 101?

SAMBERG: Murray Miller is a writer on Girls,
and he and I created the HBO tennis comedy 7
Days in Hell. He's an old friend from summer
camp who convinced me to apply to NYU be-
cause he went there before me and then con-
vinced me it was a good idea to move to L.A.
He and I even did stand-up together for the
first time. His brother helped me get a job
as a runner for National Geographic Chan-
nel, and then Murray helped me get my next
job, as a writer's personal assistant on Spin
City. He helped us get hired as writers on the
MTV Movie Awards. We made $300 or $400 a
week split three ways after taxes, but you meet

hd

people. There are folks we're still in touch with
because of that job. And it led to SNL.
PLAYBOY: How does Jimmy Fallon come into
your story?

SAMBERG: Jimmy was the host for the second
year we wrote for the MTV Movie Awards, and
he brought a ton of the SNL folks with him, in-
cluding Liz Cackowski, who came to help write
for the awards show. We hit it off with Jimmy
and his buddies—in fact, Akiva is married to
Liz. Like with Harmon and Schrab with Chan-
nel 101, we were in the company of like-minded
people. There was a crackle to it. You
could tell you were at the center of
what was happening.

PLAYBOY: When you auditioned for
Saturday Night Live, did you plan to
drop trou?

SAMBERG: Two or three days after
my first audition, I was told they
wanted to see me again and that I
didn’t have to do a totally new audi-
tion. Then, a couple of days before
the second audition, I got tipped off
not to do the same audition. I don’t
know whether it was a mix-up or a
head game, but I went to the flea
market and bought this ridiculous
pair of supershort Adidas 1980s
jogging shorts. I was hanging out
with Liz, who already worked at
SNL, so I showed her the shorts
and we came up with this bit about
an out-of-breath jogger making
random references to events from
1982. It made us laugh, so for the
audition I put the shorts on under-
neath my pants, and in the last part
of my audition, I took off my pants
to reveal these crazy-tight shorts.
Lorne Michaels says that was the
moment he decided to hire me.
PLAYBOY: Ken Jeong, Jason Segel
and Sacha Baron Cohen have gone full monty in
movie comedies. Will you up the ante?
SAMBERG: I don’t think I’d ever do it, be-
cause of the internet. Once you show your
dick, that’s the first image that comes up on
Google for the rest of your life. I don't want my
dick on the internet.

PLAYBOY: Apparently Lorne Michaels isn’t
a fan of SNL cast members cracking up dur-
ing sketches for the sake of breaking or try-
ing to make a sketch work. Will you cop to ever
doing that?

SAMBERG: To get laughs? No. But I genuinely
lost it twice. One time was during the Kenan

INTERVIEW

Thompson “Scared Straight” sketch, where
he’s an ex-con trying to scare a bunch of teens
who got into trouble for underage drinking.
Kenan got in our faces and acted insane. Bill
Hader broke first. We’re good friends, and it’s
really hard not to laugh when your friend’s
laughing. Besides, it was funny. The other time
was when Will Forte was doing a stupid half-
time dance with Peyton Manning to the theme
from the 1960s Casino Royale movie. I think
there were seven of us in the scene. Again, I be-
lieve Bill was the first to go, but in my defense,

everyone lost it. Fred Armisen lost it and so
did Kenan, which rarely happens. We all went
down at Will doing that stupid dance.
PLAYBOY: You got hired as an SNL cast mem-
ber, and your Lonely Island partners were
hired as writers. Did the pressure of doing the
show put a strain on your relationship?
SAMBERG: I had done a lot of stand-up and
we led with me for that first audition. Akiva
didn’t want to be on camera. He took a writ-
er’s meeting. Jorma auditioned, but he was a
theater major. He is super funny and would
have been great on the show, but he never did
the Groundlings or tried improv or anything

like that. We all wrote and submitted a writ-
ers’ packet together, and Jorma and Akiva
helped me write my audition. The fact that we
all got hired was incredible and a victory for
the three of us. Once we were hired, we started
to make those videos together, and it was al-
ways about the three of us. The nature of the
show sometimes threatened to drive a stake
between us, but we rarely let it happen.
PLAYBOY: Did you accomplish all you set out
to doon SNL?

SAMBERG: We far exceeded my expectations.
The 40th-anniversary special last
year was a mind-blowing and eye-
opening experience for us. There
was a long section where a major-
ity of the clips were things we had
worked on. We looked at each other
like, “Holy shit, we’re being treated
like we’re really a part of this show.”
We’re obviously very close with the
cast that was there at the time—Bill
Hader, Fred Armisen, Amy Poehler,
Maya Rudolph, Kristen Wiig—and
we all talk about how when you see
yourself in clips sandwiched be-
tween Chris Farley, Gilda Radner,
Bill Murray, that whole long list,
you don’t allow yourself to believe
you belong among them. But it’s
nice to think that anyone watching
the show thinks that.

PLAYBOY: When did you first feel
"I'm famous"?

SAMBERG: You get hired on SNL,
but except for the show's die-hard
fans, nobody knows who you are
until you do something that every-
one's talking about. After we did
Lazy Sunday with Chris Parnell
in 2005, I would be out in public
and people would go, ^Hey, Lazy
Sunday!” That first wave feels the
biggest because you're going from not at all
famous to thinking, Holy shit, somebody just
spotted me on the street. It's both exhilarat-
ing and terrifying, but the truth is, you've
just scraped the surface to the point that, if
there's a Google search for you, now at least
there's something there. The second big one
was Dick in a Box, and to this day that's still
probably the biggest. Lorne likes to joke about
the thing you'll be most remembered for on
your tombstone. He's like, “I'll be Lorne ‘SNL’
Michaels, and you'll be Andy ‘Dick in а Box’
Samberg.” I’m very comfortable with that.
I love that video. I still find it really funny,

57

and it was huge for our careers. It was a mo-
ment. There was a Justin Timberlake explo-
sion happening and the video got picked up
everywhere. That was the first time I really
felt the power of the media and the first time
I was getting more attention than I was com-
fortable with.

PLAYBOY: Did it ever get creepy?

SAMBERG: Knock on wood, but I’ve been pretty
lucky in that what we make generally appeals to
the types of folks we'd like to be interacting with.
It’s people who are really into comedy and have
been since their childhoods and teen years, and
it’s sort of the fabric of their social lives. That’s
incredibly gratifying. Like when a group of teen-
agers comes up and goes, “We quote
your stuff all the time,” that’s the ul-
timate compliment because that was
basically our religion coming up.
PLAYBOY: There is, of course, that
other comedy cliché—that all co-
medians are depressed. Have you
ever had to dip into the Xanax or
talk to atherapist?

SAMBERG: Yeah, I have. Not a
ton. I’m generally a pretty happy
person. For a lot of people, the hon-
esty and realness that produce the
best comedy means you're facing
the world as it is. You’re trying to
uncover some truth, and that can
be painful and scary. There’s a lot
of things about being a human on
earth that there are no answers to,
and that’s the scariest part of it, de-
pending on your faith and what you
believe. I think most comedians be-
lieve in comedy, which we do with
some pretty daunting unanswered
questions, and that can lead to de-
pression. That said, when I get down it’s gen-
erally more about working myself too hard and
losing my handle. Or something incredibly
sad happens in the world or in my world and
I’m affected by that. I definitely feel things
deeply. And when you feel great joy and major
highs, you are susceptible to major lows.
PLAYBOY: Do you check out what people on
the internet say about you?

SAMBERG: In my third or fourth year at SNL,
I made the mistake of looking. There was some
awful shit, things that made me think, You're
the only one everyone hates. I read one that
basically said, “He should fucking kill himself
so he can't procreate." That was so harsh that
Iactually found it funny. As an experiment, I
looked up people who were atthe height oftheir

INTERVIEW

game, people whose achievements I aspired to,
like Will Ferrell, Jack Black, Amy Poehler, Tina
Fey, Jim Carrey. They all had the most horren-
dous shit written about them. And Iremember
reading people say how much they hated Will
Ferrell and how he wasn't funny, knowing in
my heart that he is likely the funniest human
being on planet Earth and can do no wrong.
That's when I had this moment of clarity about
online comments: None of it matters. All of it
is easily ignored. That’s helped tremendously.
PLAYBOY: Do you ever miss your anonymity?
SAMBERG: That can be managed too. There
are folks who do it, my wife, Joanna, being
one of them.

I had this mo-
ment of clarity
about online

comments:

None of it mat-
ters. All of it is
easily ignored.

PLAYBOY: Your wife, Joanna Newsom, cre-
ates music that is so uncommon and intro-
spective that she draws comparisons to artists
like Joni Mitchell and Kate Bush. Were people
surprised when you first got together, let alone
when you got hitched in 2013?

SAMBERG: At first a lot of folks who were
fans of hers found it confusing that we were
together, which I totally understand. When
you care about someone's art that much, you
have a relationship with it. Her work is so
personal, special and emotional. She's one
of the greatest songwriters ever. If someone
I admire artistically starts dating someone
I don't find worthy of their art and gifts, ГП
allow it to bum me out.

PLAYBOY: Were you a fan before you met?

SAMBERG: Oh yeah. I listened to her second
record, Ys, every day for almost a year. That was
my second year on SNL, soit was around 2006,
2007. I would wake up to it, listen to it on my
headphones in the subway and then listen to it
in my office.

PLAYBOY: Was it awkward meeting her at one
of her concerts?

SAMBERG: I figured it would just be me sort
of bowing and saying my pleasantries, but
she's into comedy and is really funny. She was
a great fan of Dick in a Box and Lazy Sunday,
and she, her brother and sister had watched
all our weird early Lonely Island stuff. We be-
came friends very quickly, but it wasn't like ei-
ther of us was pursuing the other.
I think when we met she was in
another relationship. We kept in
touch for a while, and then even-
tually the timing was such that we
found ourselves saying, ^Hey, we've
been friends. What's going on?"
We've been married three years
this month.

PLAYBOY: If the two of you were
to have children or adopt children,
what aspects of yourself would you
hope they wouldn't inherit?
SAMBERG: Impatience. It's some-
thing I grapple with. I can get very
flustered by deadlines.Igetaskeda
lot why Akiva and Jorma direct and
I don't. My answer is that I really
don't want to because I'm not good
at multitasking. I get overwhelmed
very quickly. I like to focus on one
thing at a time and give it all my
attention. But kids—I hope they
laugh a lot.

PLAYBOY: Do you feel that mar-
riage has changed you?

SAMBERG: Just being in that relationship
made me happier, calmer, more comfortable
with life. Like I said, I don't really love being
alone, but the idea that you get to spend a good
chunk of time with someone you'd rather be
with more than anyone else? Incredible. We
love going to nice dinners, but we also like
staying home and watching Game of Thrones,
Chefs Table or the DVD extras for Alien.
PLAYBOY: As TV watchers, have you ever
bought something because you saw it on a
TV commercial?

SAMBERG: I got a Squatty Potty.

PLAYBOY: You did not.

SAMBERG: I did. The commercial sold me. I
don't know if it was the prince, the unicorn or

hd

whatever, but I was like, “I’ll buy it and try it.”
It works fine, but it’s less comfortable. Also,
I’m not trying to speed up that time in my life.
On the toilet and in the shower are the two
places I get to truly be alone and think.
PLAYBOY: Do you have any fears that other
people tell you are irrational?

SAMBERG: Not that people tell me are irratio-
nal, just your basic fear of death or fear that I
won't be able to work anymore. Also, fear that
I'll be in a plane going down. The best death
you can hope for is a peaceful passing sur-
rounded by loved ones. The idea of
being ripped from a plane in the air
just feels so helpless and terrifying.
This is getting dark.

PLAYBOY: It depends on your view
of the afterlife, right?

SAMBERG: My suspicion is that it's
like Jon Snow says: "Nothing, there
was nothing at all.” I believe in ener-
gies and that there's probably some
transfer into the universe of what-
ever it is that makes you alive. But I
don’t believe in the retaining of your
consciousness.

PLAYBOY: How did you react when
the Lonely Island’s recent music
mockumentary, Popstar: Never Stop
Never Stopping, got more love from
critics than from ticket buyers?
SAMBERG: It would have been
nice if it had made us all a lot more
money. We probably would have
been given carte blanche to make
another movie. But I also feel that if
we wanted to make another movie,
we could. There are so many outlets
now. I’m not complaining about
how much money I have. I’m fine.
When we put out Hot Rod in 2007, it
didn’t perform the way we wanted,
but during a college tour promot-
ing Popstar, kids showed up dressed in Hot
Rod costumes and with Hot Rod posters and
DVDs. It found its audience. We wanted to
make a movie that people would talk about in
the same sentence as Billy Madison or Wet Hot
American Summer. We’re really happy with
how Popstar turned out.

PLAYBOY: When you were coming up, you
were often compared with and said to resem-
ble Adam Sandler, with whom you made the
raunchy That’s My Boy. Do you envision your-
self emulating his career moves?

SAMBERG: One of my favorite things Sandler
ever did was Punch-Drunk Love. I know the

INTERVIEW

director, Paul Thomas Anderson, a little, and
І know a lot of people were surprised when that
casting was announced. It’s fucking great, a
perfect movie, and Sandler is great in it—
vulnerable, believable, funny and heartbreak-
ing. Put your trust in an incredible filmmaker
and it can work out great. Everyone who has
ever been in front of a camera wants to get a
call from Martin Scorsese, Steven Spielberg,
David Fincher, Paul Thomas Anderson, Spike
Jonze, Wes Anderson—from one of the many
incredible directors you can trust.

PLAYBOY: Have you ever been called by one of
those directors?

SAMBERG: The last time I really auditioned
for anything was while I was at SNL. It was
a one-line thing for the Coen brothers—
incredible—for Burn After Reading. I came
in, said my line once, and they were like [in a
monotone], “Okay.” I was like, “Oh boy.”
PLAYBOY: So what’s next on the agenda?
SAMBERG: This is the most relaxed I’ve been
in years, as the half beard would imply. I'm
very happy. I’ve been sleeping a ton. I'm regen-
erating, going on family trips.

PLAYBOY: Besides the new season of Brook-

lyn Nine-Nine, what’s next for you and the
Lonely Island?

SAMBERG: I did a few scenes playing Josh
Peck’s mean older brother in a movie for
Netflix called S.B. Bound, directed by my
old NYU roommate Chester Tam. I’m basi-
cally like Bill Paxton’s character Chet from
Weird Science. We’re producing a very odd
and funny movie, Brigsby Bear, starring the
brilliant, wonderful Kyle Mooney. The ten-
nis comedy we did last year with Kit Haring-
ton for HBO, 7 Days in Hell, was fucking nuts,
and we’re now doing one around
the Tour de France.

PLAYBOY: What’s your comedy
philosophy?

SAMBERG: Go after whatever’s
funny at the moment. When you
have a winner, nail it and keep
nailing it. I met Mel Brooks at the
party after the 2015 Emmys, which
І hosted. That was a “holy shit” mo-
ment. Mel Brooks said, “You were
great because some of the jokes you
told were great and some of them
were shit, but you told the ones that
were shit like they were great.”
The other people in his circle and
I laughed really hard. He and I sat
down and I told him how much he
meant to me, how І grew up watch-
ing his stuff and blah, blah, blah. I
saw Nick Kroll and John Mulaney,
so I called them over and he intro-
duced himself to them. He goes,
“He was great tonight, wasn’t he?
Some of the jokes he told were great
and some of them were shit, but he
told the ones that were shit like they
were great.” It was so old-school
and beautiful, where he was like,
“Yeah, I told a joke and it got a huge
laugh, so I'm sticking with it." His
inflections were identical. He knew he had a
winner, so he just nailed it.

PLAYBOY: Sounds like life is good at the top
for Andy Samberg.

SAMBERG: Comedy is such astrangethingin
the world. On occasion, it can be treated with a
lot of reverence, but it's generally treated a lit-
tle bit less than reverentially. Still, I'm doing
this for a living. People call and ask me to
come do comedy. I’m writing comedy, and peo-
ple are letting me make it. I've already won.
Everything from this point on is about what
Iwant my career to look like. When it's over, I
want to stand by all the things Гуе made. Mi

59

When freelance artist Langley Fox shed her Hemingway last name, it signaled a rebirth—
and, as atestament to her abilities, it hasn’t hurt her career. Fashion houses and art-pop mag-
azines have commissioned her work, which “emulates the things around me,” she says. So it
makes sense that when we asked her to run wild with photographer Kava Gorna for an illus-
trated pictorial, Langley became inspired by their surroundings. “We went out with a loose
plan on a hot summer day among flowers, trees, lakes, blue skies and lots of laughs. It was
almost obvious that nature would become the thread,” says Langley. “Our biggest challenge
was dodging cars and climbing over fences to find secret places,” adds Kava. “And I can’t be
too specific about where we shot, because we definitely didn’t have permission to be there.”

PHOTOGRAPHY BY KAVA GORNA nobel « artist LANGLEY FOX

60

"2222 nma P^.

LAST

PHOTOGRAPHY BY ERIN TRIEB

hd

A black flag whips in the early-morning
breeze. Planted in the middle of a rocky hill
a few hundred yards south of the mud-walled
compound where the Afghan commandos have
taken shelter, the flag's message is clear: ISIS
is here, waiting.

The mission of the commandos of Afghani-
stan's First Platoon, First Special Operations
Battalion is straightforward: Find the ISIS
fighters and take them out. The soldiers are
eager to take on an enemy that has killed many
of their own, beheaded and
blown up local villagers
and driven countless people
from their homes.

Pakistan, the source of
many of the foreign fight-
ers, lies a few miles away,
over the denuded chocolate-
colored mountains that
stair-step up from the hill
to snowy peaks. Mud-brick
compounds, abandoned when fighting esca-
lated here in Afghanistan’s Nangarhar prov-
ince last summer, dot the valley floor. There
is no movement except for the flag’s whip. No
farmers tilling their fields. No one walking.
The stillness is unnerving.

An order crackles over the radio: time to go.
The soldiers move out across the rolling valley
floor, searching one compound after another.
To the west they can see their comrades from

Third Platoon doing the same. The Afghan army
and national border police are to follow behind,
holding territory the commandos have secured.

The goal is to clear out the extremists so that
civilians can return to their homes. Tranquil-
lity fled this region over the past year after ISIS
fighters slithered in and embarked on a cam-
paign of terror, executing locals they deemed
impure and fighting pitched battles with the
Taliban and anyone else in their way.

The soldiers are picking their way through a

stony field studded with poplar trees and dry
grass that crunches underfoot when the first
shots ring out from the hill. The commandos
scatter, diving behind boulders and trees and
firing back. Some sprint to a nearby compound
and take shelter.

It’s a lousy place to seek safety. The five-foot-
high southern mud wall that necklaces the
compound is too short to provide good cover.
A small dirt knoll in the middle of the com-

Afghan National Army commandos, en route to raid an insurgent compound, read an official
memo from ISIS outlining sharia law for the region.

pound serves as a lookout of sorts. Inside the
adobe house are two tiny rooms: a kitchen with
a small cookstove and a bedroom with three
string-laced cots. Tight quarters for a platoon
of 30 men to wait out a barrage in.

The commandos crouch in a line along the
southern wall, popping up to take shots and
slipping down to slam fresh magazines into
their M-4 rifles. Waves of incoming fire—from
machine guns, rifles and the occasional rocket-
propelled grenade—continue in booms, cracks,

DESPITE SOME $35 BILLION IN
SUPPORT, THE AFGHAN ARMY
GAN’T DO MUCH TO STOP ISIS,

whistles and pops. The shooting dies down fora
moment, only to roar back as soon as an Afghan
commando stands up to fire.

Firefights usually don’t last long, maybe 10 to
15 minutes, though they can feel like years. This
one is different. The shooting goes on and on. The
insurgents must have a deep-pocketed source
funding them to be able to throw this much
ammo downrange. This is no pell-mell ragtag
group attacking the commandos. This is ISIS.
When the regular Afghan National Army can’t
finish a fight, needs to clear an area oris pinned
down, it calls in the commandos, the nation's
best and perhaps final line of defense. Calls
for the elite special-operations unit have come
in faster and faster since late 2014, when the
Taliban started to retake territory vacated by
withdrawing U.S. troops and coalition part-
ners. Nearly 90 percent of foreign forces have
now left Afghanistan. Under Mullah Akhtar
Mansour—a leader with a brutal reputation who
was killed by a U.S. drone strike in Pakistan in
late May—the Taliban scored a string of battle-
field victories, moving from rural skirmishesto
direct assaults on big cities, fueled by thousands
of fighters. It now controls more of Afghanistan
than at any point since 2001, when the United
States invaded. About half the country is cur-
rently under Taliban control, and more is on the
verge of falling. And now ISIS—or Daesh, as it's
known locally—has also moved in.

Despite some $35 billion in training and sup-
port from the U.S. and coalition partners, the
Afghan army can't seem to do much to stop
them. Ravaged by desertions, internal squab-
bling, poor coordination between units and

70

\
A
\

Afghan soldiers strap on their weapons during training and exercise drills at the commando “School of Excellence,” also known as Camp Commando,
on the outskirts of Kabul. The 10,000-man force is spread thin and is often without proper equipment.

officers so corrupt they’ve been known to steal
soldiers’ salaries and sell their equipment,
the army races to respond to attacks instead
of launching operations to root out the insur-
gents. Heavy fighting, combined with a lack of
close air support and medical evacuations, has
taken its toll: Around 5,000 soldiers were killed
in 2015—nearly 30 percent more than in 2014.

The Afghan army has yet to hammer out a
clear strategy to defeat ISIS and the Taliban;
instead it relies on the special-operations
troops to put out fires. The commandos wres-
tled back control of the northern city of Kun-
duz after the Taliban seized it. They’re on the
front lines in the south in Helmand province,
buttressing a feeble army struggling to fight
off waves of insurgents. And now they’ve been
sent northeast to Nangarhar to smoke out ISIS.

But the commandos are spread increasingly
thin. Their missions are supposed to last 72
hours or less—hit atarget and go home—but can
actually stretch on for months. When they’re
not babysitting an area for the army, the com-
mandos are sometimes used to staffroad check-
points or bigwigs’ security details. “The misuse
of commandos is endemic,” says a U.S. Green

Beret master sergeant who trains the elite
troops. “One platoon I know is being used as a
politician’s personal protection force in Kabul.”
After years of fighting and training alongside
America’s legendary Green Berets, the comman-
dos are now largely on their own. They became
used to their sugar daddy calling the shots and
giving them money, arms, air support and intel-
ligence when things got tight. Not anymore. Now
they must run the show and operate better than
their U.S. advisors—or risk a Taliban takeover.
But howlongcan an overworked force of 10,000
men hold together acountry of 32 million people?
On a bracingly cool December morning in
the mountains south of Kabul, 1,000 soldiers
stand in formation on the hard-packed parade
ground at the training base known as Camp
Commando. They are the latest graduates of
the special-operations program, decked out
in woodland-green camouflage uniforms and
distinctive maroon berets, gripping M-4 rifles
squarely across their chests, eyes locked straight
ahead. An improvised red carpet of tribal rugs
stretches from the front gate, past a viewing
platform wrapped in Afghanistan’s national col-

ors of red, black and green, to rows of steel risers
crammed with Green Berets, Afghan officials
and the foreign contractors who run the camp.

The Afghan national anthem sputters out
of loudspeakers; the gate glides open, and in
march five top leaders of the Afghan army,
their heads turned sharply to the left, holding
afirm salute as they pass the soldiers.

Colonel Jabar Wafa, the school’s commander,
who with his taut, sun-drenched skin and loom-
ing build looks like an Afghan stand-in for John
Wayne, approaches the microphone. “My hero
soldiers,” he says, his eyes panning the crowd,
“you are the ones with the responsibility to pro-
tect this country. Wherever and whenever the
ANA has atough fight, they call on you, the com-
mandos. We will put the insurgents on the run.”

‘Allahu Akbar!” the troops roar. “God is great!”

The ceremony marks the graduation of the
country’s biggest class of commandos since
the school’s founding in 2007. Five times a
year, new recruits arrive at this former Rus-
sian parachutist base to be trained to join aunit
widely considered the best in the country. They
are selected during basic training for their ap-
titude, strength and ethnicity. Overseen by

71

Green Berets, they undergo a rigorous three-
month class of advanced infantry skills. The
students are chosen to reflect the country:
Nearly half are Pashtun, about 25 percent are
Tajik, and the rest Uzbek, Hazara or Turkmen.

Until this fall, classes were capped at 650 stu-
dents. But the uptick in casualties and fighting
has pushed the Afghan Ministry of Defense to
rapidly expand the commando ranks. The pass
rate, once 80 percent, has been bumped to 100
percent. There’s talk of a sixth class this year.

The commandos are supposed to be the best-
supplied of any unit in the Afghan army, but the
strain on the camp’s resources is evident. Bar-
racks are crowded, with at least four men per
room, and lines for the 16 toilets are long. Re-
cruits are allotted only 800 bullets instead of
the 5,000 rounds they’re supposed to receive.
None of their footwear or uniforms match be-
cause there aren’t enough to go around. Some
wear tan or black boots; many wear sneakers
secured with laces or Velcro.

Still, the quality of the recruits has improved
since the school’s early years, says Donnie Barber,
an American contractor who has been training
soldiers at the camp for the past nine years. In the
early years, he says, most troops couldn’t read or
write, and he had to teach them to count. Half the
current recruits are now illiterate. The new com-
тапа staffis making an effort to take better care
of soldiers and has improved meals, installed a
volleyball court and opened a recreation center.

“These Afghans get it,” says Barber, wearing a
baseball cap and sporting a tattoo on his left arm
from his old unit, the 82nd Airborne. “When we
leave, they’re going to be able to carry on.”

Inacountry where most people identify with
their tribes and not as Afghans, the outlook of
some of the recruits is surprising. “I joined the
army to serve my country,” Staff Sergeant Said
Jallaludin, 22, a Turkmen from the northern
city of Mazar-e-Sharif, tells me while cleaning
his M-4 rifle. “I want peace not only in Mazar
but in all of the country. If I go to Helmand,
Kunduz, wherever, each place is my country.”

There’s more than a patriotic incentive to en-
list; there’s also a financial one. In the wake of
the U.S. and coalition troop pullout, Afghan-
istan’s unemployment rate skyrocketed to
25 percent. Jallaludin was a laborer and part-
time student with few prospects; he thought the
army would give him acareer, or at least decent
pay. A newly minted commando makes $250 a
month—more if he serves in especially danger-
ous areas—while aregular soldier receives $200.

At the graduation ceremony, Jallaludin goose-
steps forward to accept his graduation certifi-
cate, salutes the chief of the army and holds out
his right hand. He then spins around and barks
to the waiting platoons of commandos, “Afghan-
istan, Iam ready to protect you.”

Nangarhar is the latest region of Afghanistan to
need the commandos’ protection. The province,

1. A 26-year-old Afghan commando lies on a makeshift
stretcher after being shot during a gunfight with ISIS
insurgents. 2. Commandos take cover in a mud-walled
compound near the Pakistan border while ISIS pins
them down for nearly 16 hours. 3. Overview of Camp
Commando near Kabul.

home to the Tora Boracave complex where Osama
bin Laden hid early in the Iraq war, has long been
aroiling stew of Taliban, Al Qaeda, foreign fight-
ers, drug traffickers—and now ISIS. The Paki-
stani army launched acampaign іп 2014 to drive
extremists out of its country's lawless northern
states. Those who weren't killed fled to Nan-
garhar, recruited disgruntled Taliban and re-
branded themselves as Islamic State-Khorasan,
the local affiliate of ISIS. Numbering as many as
3,000, they began acampaign of beheadings and
bombings, sending thousands of locals fleeing to
the provincial capital of Jalalabad.

The situation has so alarmed Washington that
in January, U.S. forces ramped up air strikes in
the country threefold. The Obama adminis-
tration is considering slowing the scheduled
drawdown of the remaining 9,800 U.S. troops.
Lieutenant General John Nicholson, who took
over as commander of U.S. forces in Afghanistan
early this year, declared that eliminating the
Islamic State and Al Qaeda branches in Afghani-
stan is his “first and foremost” priority.

Early last year, ISIS announced it would use
Nangarhar as a launching pad for attacks and

72

would advance into neighboring provinces.
This angered the Taliban, and the two have
been battling for supremacy since. For months
the army, distracted by other problems, left
them alone to kill each other off—until Islamic
State fighters started attacking and killing
Afghan police officers. The furious provincial
police chief demanded that the army intervene.
Days later, the commandos get the call. They’re
ordered to leave their base near Jalalabad and
speed to Achin, a district in Nangarhar on the
border with Pakistan that has long been home
to a thriving Taliban-run drug trade and is now
the site of near-daily clashes between ISIS and
other extremists. Things had gotten so bad
there that the deputy speaker of parliament who
represents Nangarhar formed his own 200-man
militia and led it into battle against ISIS.

The commandos roll out around six P.M. in
a convoy of 18 Humvees. A stop in
central Achin to coordinate with
the army, police and border patrol
drags on till midnight. The Afghan
National Army has tentative control
over a V-shape tract of ground south
of town that was under fire from the
Islamic State. The army needs the
commandos to take enough ground
to fill in the V and push south; the
army will follow behind and hold
that ground. At least that’s the idea.

Leading the commandos this
night is ayoung captain who recently
transferred from another battalion,
or kandak. It’s his first job in the re-
gion. His inexperience worries the
commandos, but the rising num-
ber of missions has left no seasoned officers
available. The rookie captain won’t even have
a Green Beret advisor accompanying him as a
backstop if he gets into trouble. After the U.S.
shifted to a training and advisory role in late
2014, the Afghans were put in charge of the
fight. U.S. Special Forces now rarely go on mis-
sions, unless things go sideways.

The captain sets up his command post and
heavy weapons on a small hill two miles north
of where the commandos will be operating—
usually a commander sets his post 500 yards
behind his assault team so he can see what’s
going on and support them. The commandos
complain among themselves about his incom-
petence and seeming lack of courage, a damn-
ing slight in a country where a man is judged
by his bravery.

There isn't much to be done except head out.
The 60 men of the two platoons slip on their hy-
dration packs, adjusttheir radios and stride into

the night. The darkness is so thick and complete
it’s difficult to see. Figures that loom threat-
eningly in the murk turn into benign trees on
closer inspection. Hours later, the moon is bright
enough to illuminate the walking men.

With daybreak only a few hours away, the
commandos maintain a brisk pace. The sol-
diers trek up and slide down stony mountains,
sometimes jumping from outcropping to out-
cropping when the descent is too steep to walk.
There are no trails, not even a goat track. Slip-
sliding, the soldiers move down into a val-
ley, finding two abandoned compounds the
army has cleared. Exhausted, the comman-
dos trudge inside, First Platoon to the far right
compound, Third Platoon to the left.

They pull off their M-4s, lean them against
the walls and sit down heavily. Some slip off
their helmets and rest them in their laps.
“What’s next?” asks Ahmad (not his real name),

THE SHOOT-

ING DIES DOWN,
ONLY TO ROAR
BACK AS A COM-
MANDO STANDS

UP TO FIRE.

an interpreter who works with the commandos
and Green Berets. No one seems to know.

A radio sputters. Ahmad perks up, then sits
back and groans after hearing the orders. “Oh
shit. Be ready to move. We’re heading back
the way we came in five minutes,” he says. The
other commandos look at one another.

There isn’t much to do. An order is an order.
The soldiers collect their weapons and helmets
and get ready to leave.

But the radio buzzes again. Ahmad listens
intently. “Okay, we’re not doing that any-
more,” he says to everyone. “We’re to wait for
instructions.”

The next hour and a half passes this way,
commands ebbing and flowing like tides.
The radio buzzes with an order to move, and
a few minutes later another order reverses it.
Frustration mounting, the men mutter to one
another that something needs to be done.

A few soldiers sip water. No one eats. They

have little to no food. The army didn’t issue

any, and the soldiers don’t want to pay for it.

With large families to support on a salary of a

few hundred dollars a month, it's better to save

as much as they can.

By now it's 3:30 in the morning and dinner
is a faint memory. My photographer's pack is
stuffed with 10 pounds of granola bars, energy
drinks and other snacks. She poursthem on the
dirt floor and gestures to the commandos to
eat. They crowd around and snatch up the food.
A few men close their eyes for a nap. The radio
has gone quiet. Dawn is coming. Why aren't
thecommandos, who have night-vision goggles
and can operate at night when the insurgents
can't, moving?

“I bet you anything the captain will tell us
to move at daylight,” Ahmad says. “And if that
happens, we’re going to be shot at.”

The sun slowly rises, streaking the sky with
oranges, purples and pinks. Sure
enough, the radio buzzes. Time to
move. The instructions are vague,
the captain directing the comman-
dos to take over nearby compounds.

Ahmad curses. “This is abad idea,”
he mutters. “Hey, German, don’t you
want to say something?” he asks the
squad leader, nicknamed because of
his light brown hair and pale skin.
German shrugs. *We're soldiers,” he
says. “We follow orders.”

The soldiers snake out across the
valley floor, the black ISIS flag flut-
tering in the distance. That’s when
the attack starts.

Bullets chew at the dirt walls of the
compound where First Platoon has taken shel-
ter. Third Platoon has found another several
hundred yards away. An RPG occasionally
sails overhead, its distinctive whine piercing
the air. The commandos take turns along the
southern perimeter wall, jack-in-the-boxing up
to fire their M-4 rifles whenever they feel a lull
in the incoming fire. A machine gunner sets up
in a protected spot along the wall, his weapon's
staccato thud-thud-thud puncturing the air.

As the hours slide by, the shooting from the
unseen enemy grows thicker, advancing now
from the east and west. ISIS fighters are closing
in. The commandos’ radio has gone quiet again;
they cannot raise their captain. The men lean
against the walls, cradling their rifles, looking
at one another with wide eyes. “I can’t believe
this,” says one. “What is this captain thinking?”

“Mushkele! Mushkele! Problem! Problem!”
someone shouts outside. The commandos race
to the perimeter wall and see one of their own

73

Left: An Afghan fighter fires his weapon at ISIS insurgents while on a mission in Achin district, Nangarhar province, Afghanistan. Right: Afghan Platoon Sergeant German,
nicknamed thus because of his light hair and skin, receives news that one of his soldiers has died after being shot in the side by an ISIS sniper.

on his back, his buddies working to remove
his body armor. A bullet came in through a
softball-size hole in the wall, hitting his right
side, close to the underarm. The wound is deep.

They bandage the downed commando and
haul a cot outside to use as a stretcher. Back to
the radio to try to rouse help. “We need a mede-
vac immediately,” the operator barks into the
radio. The answer that crackles back churns
their stomachs: “It’s a three-hour wait,” the
voice says. “There are no helicopters available.”
It’s acommon, and lethal, issue for Afghan sol-
diers: Their tiny, overstretched air force is
chronically short of pilots and helicopters for
evacuating troops.

The commandos manage to stop their com-
rade’s bleeding, but it’s a temporary fix. They
know he won’t last three hours. They will have
tocarry him out themselves.

Four commandos lift the wounded man onto
one of the string cots and wait for a lull in the
shooting. When it comes, they each grab a bed
leg and rush across the adjoining field, head-
ing for the relative shelter of a stand of trees.

They make it 100 yards before one of the carri-
ers is hit in the leg. The men drop to the ground
while another commando in the compound lays
down cover fire with a machine gun. The one
who was hit fast-limps back to the house while
the other three grab the badly wounded man
and run for the trees. A volunteer sprints out to

help them. I learn later that they carried their
comrade two miles back to the overwatch site
where the captain sat, but the man died in an
ambulance en route to the hospital in Jalalabad.

Back in the compound, the shooting gets
closer and louder and closer and louder. A com-
mando bursts in, shouting that ISIS fighters
dressed in camouflage have sneaked into the
neighboring compound, about 100 yards away,
between this compound and Third Platoon’s.
The commandos can’t shoot at them for fear of
hitting Third Platoon.

The captain has artillery, mortars and a
.50-caliber anti-aircraft heavy machine gun—
all useless because they’re too far away to help.
Ahmad passes word by radio to one of the Green
Berets he works with that the commandos are
pinned down and need help. Eventually an Af-
ghan attack helicopter arrives, circles for 10 min-
utes while randomly shooting and then departs.

Morale plummets; the commandos feel aban-
doned. No cavalry is coming to their rescue be-
cause they are the cavalry. Fear coils tightly in
their stomachs. No one wants to say what is ap-
parent: ISIS is pounding their compound hard
before an impending invasion. Men feel for the
reassuring grip of their knives and think of
hand-to-hand combat.

Thak-thak-thak. Machine gun and AK-47 fire
seems to be pouring in from all directions. Two
RPGs overshoot the compound and sail high

overhead. The ISIS snipers looking down from
a hill, however, are on target; their rounds slice
into the room through windows and a hole in
the wall. There is no sign of the Afghan National
Army soldiers who are supposed to come to the
commandos’ aid. Their only chance now is to
stick it out until the sun goes down and their
night-vision gear gives them the advantage.

As day slips into night, the commandos in
both platoons get the call they’ve been waiting
for: Assault the nearby ISIS compound. They
creep outside, fan out in all directions and
storm the house, killing the handful of insur-
gents inside with wild bursts of gunfire.

The commandos were eager to move on to as-
sault the main ISIS forces on the hill, take out
the snipers who'd been wreaking so much havoc
and burn their flag, but their commander or-
dered them to retreat to the compound. Not
wanting to incur casualties, he decided to do
nothing and wait to be ordered back to base,
Ahmad tells me later.

New commandos arrived on foot a day or two
later with supplies of food and water. There
were still no helicopters available. The com-
mandos spent 10 days holed up in the com-
pound with the insurgents taking occasional
potshots at them, until a general intervened
and ordered them to retreat.

The black flag still fluttered high over the
valley. H

74

CDithout a male with which to mate,
the tribe of the unicorn will be no more.

у Q nme \ A SRM d x
О IN Win) ^N NS Uic

NICHOLAS GUREWITCH

e In af era. when men can wear suits or sweatpants to work, it's essential...
To know the foundational principles of looking good. Here are 20 timeless;
best practices from our favorite style experts and designers

e i PHOTOGRAPHY BY
"e

y DAVID PRINCE

hd

1. The work boot works with
everything.

A great pair of boots is an investment that will
give your look character. And as they get worn
in, they’ll become a part of your personal sig-
nature. You can wear a classic work boot ev-
erywhere and with everything from jeans at a
concert to a suit on a date at a nice restaurant.
Texas-based Helm Boots slims the profile ofits
made-in-the-USA stompers with the new Ayers
model (pictured at right). The slightly dressier
silhouette still feels casual with a rubber sole
and Helm's trademark white stripe.

2. A suit is more than a suit.

You probably don't wear a suit to work every
day, but it’s still an important wardrobe player
if you pitch it right. The key is to pick a versa-
tile style you can break apart and wear as sep-
arates. Look for a slim version with natural,
unpadded shoulders and less-formal patch
pockets, like Suitsupply's Havana model ($499,
us.suitsupply.com). The jacket can serve as a
blazer with a pair of jeans, and the slim trousers
will work with a casual sweater or even a high-
low combination such as a hoodie and boots (see
Rule 5). A solid shade is always a good choice, or
dialitup with a subtle windowpane plaid in gray
and camel Italian wool.

3. Make your new pair of

jeans 1990s-style washed
black denim.

No sweat if you missed Kurt Cobain, grunge
and faded black denim the first time around.
Somehow an amalgam of rocker bona fides and
soulful nuance, washed and artfully distressed
black jeans are the newest denim treatment for
those bent on escaping the ever-present blues.
Take Nudie Jeans's interpretation from its Rep-
lica series based on actual worn pairs, in the
skinny Grim Tim fit ($250, nudiejeans.com).
To avoid flyover-country overtones, keep the
look simple and sharp with just an inky black
T-shirt or an urban parka and grounded with
black lace-up boots or canvas kicks.

4. Clear is the new black when
it comes to eyewear.

Going clear is a reverse-chic move that's
trending in both sunglasses and eyeglasses.

Helm Boots Ayers
in black, $495,
helmboots.com.

Transparent frames signal that you're above
the style-wars fray, but their attitude makes
an indelible impression nonetheless. Cutler
and Gross offers splurge-a-rific see-through
sunnies in either round or D-frame mod-
els with groovy green lenses, while Moscot's
squared-off 1960s Nebb style oozes The
Graduate cool.

5. It's time to elevate your
hoodie game.

No excuses. This fall, all the big designers
have a heightened take on the humble hoodie:
Rag & Bone’s black funnel-neck version under
a slim overcoat, Michael Kors’s skiwear-
inspired hoodie-bomber jacket hybrid or
L.A. streetwear ace John Elliott’s oversize
textured hoodie layered over his signature
elongated tees. A spiffed-up hoodie, often in
a fabric with a high-tech sheen, raises your
style game without sacrificing the comfort of
an old standby.

WOMEN NOTICE FOOTWEAR. FOR THAT
REASON, THE SHOES ARE WHERE ANY
WARDROBE OVERHAUL SHOULD BEGIN.

6. AND YES, THE
SHOES WILL MAKE
IT OR BREAK IT.
Women notice
footwear. For that
reason, among several
others, the shoes are
where any wardrobe
overhaul should begin.
The good news? Just
as that pair of square-
toed slip-ons you’ve
had since high school
will ruin your nine-
to-five look, the right
pair of suede loafers
or pristine high-tops
can raise an otherwise
toned-down ensemble
to new heights.

7. SPEND MONEY ON
BIG ITEMS.

Certain things in your
closet have a longer
shelf life than others.
Jeans, shirts and
sweaters will wear
out, look dated or get
ruined by hot sauce
within a few years.
Outerwear, suits and
leather-soled shoes
can last decades.
Three things to re-
member: First, buy in
neutral tones suchas
navy, gray or black—
colors that never go
out of style. Second,
learn how to spot-
clean a jacket and use
a shoe brush. Third,
treat these items

like the investments
they are; if it doesn't
hurt a bit when you
buy them, you're not
spending enough.

8. BUY QUALITY,
NOT BRANDS.

It feels good to own

a coveted label, but
designer brands don't
always carry the same
quality throughout
their product range.
If you're going to
splurge on a big
name, make it count:
Things like Burberry
trenches, Gucci
loafers and Brunello
Cucinelli cashmere
sweaters are iconic
and worth the money.
Yeezy white T-shirts,
not so much.

77

hd

THE TREND TOWARD ACTIVEWEAR IS
NOT CARTE BLANCHE TO ROCK YOUR
PAJAMAS TO DINNER.

9. You can carry a backpack,
but you need to up your game.
There's no reason to give up the hands-free
convenience of a backpack out in the real
world, but it's time for a smarter-looking ver-
sion. Emerging brand Haerfest (pronounced
“harvest”) has just the ticket. Its J1 backpack
(pictured below) is a luxury-meets-tech combo
of leather and sturdy, line-patterned premium
nylon. Neither too large nor too small, the
carryall features a fully lined main compart-
ment and a front pouch, both cleanly designed
with concealed zippers, as well as smaller

WwW >
E LLL WEM

Haerfest J1
backpack, $375,
haerfest.com.

interior zip pockets and an inner sleeve—all
in a noticeable but still neutral olive.

10. Would-be collectors,
embrace the starter watch.

The classic Rolex Datejust tops the list for new-
comers, according to Jon Goldfarb, owner of
Second Time Around Watch Company, a Beverly
Hills institution for 40 years. "It's recognizable
and holds its value. It's something most peo-
ple will recognize when a guy is wearing one on
his wrist," he says. The iconic watch dates back
to 1945 and is still made today. Expect to shell
out anywhere from the mid-$2,000s to the low
$3,000s for a standard model; variables affect-
ing the price include whether it's all stainless
or stainless with white or yellow gold, whether
it has a classic silver dial or a more uncommon
colored face, and whether it comes with its origi-
nal presentation box and papers.

11. Thisisthe only skin product
you need to face the world.
Hollywood men's grooming expert Cheryl
Marks, who tends to Will Arnett among other
celebrities, says her guys go nuts over Jack
Black Double Duty SPF 20 face moisturizer
($28, getjackblack.com). “It has everything
they need, and they don't feel like they have
anything on,” she says. “It does its job and feels
good on the skin." Lightweight and non-oily,
the potion hydrates skin for a better appear-
ance and offers broad-spectrum protection
against UVA and UVB rays. Fragrance-free
and packed with vitamins and antioxidants,
it's formulated for all skin types.

12. Athleisure: Just because you
can doesn't mean you should.

It's now possible to be both comfortable and
stylish (see: tapered sweats, ultralight run-
ners, looser cuts), but there are limits. The
trend toward activewear does not give you
carte blanche to rock your pajamas to dinner
or dress head-to-toe in matching logos like an
off-duty gym teacher. The winning play here
is moderation, combining one or two informal
elements with an otherwise put-together look.
Try a pair of monochromatic Nike Roshe Ones
($75, store.nike.com) with dark jeans for a style
that's equal parts sporty and polished.

13. BUY TRENDS IN
ACCESSORIES.
Botanical prints are
big right now. Buy
them in shirts, socks,
ties, maybe a five-
panel hat—but not a
suit. Trends are fun to
wear, but they work
best when combined
with the classic
standbys already in
your wardrobe. Need
proof? Google "Justin
Timberlake denim
suit." You never want
to be that guy.

14. SELVEDGE IS
GOOD; STRETCH
SELVEDGE IS
BETTER.

Selvedge jeans in dark
indigo are an integral
part of any man's ward-
robe, but spending six
months breaking in a
pair is no fun. Recent
advances in textile
technology, however,
have made it possible
to have great-looking
selvedge jeans that
are also exceptionally
comfortable from the
first wear. Try on a pair
of Naked & Famous
Denim's Weird Guy
stretch selvedge ($166,
tateandyoko.com) and
you'll never go back.

15. DON'T SETTLE
FOR A SHIRT THAT
DOESN'T FIT
PROPERLY.

All shirts are not
created equal, nor
are they sized the
same—so don't settle
for a button-down that
doesn't fit just right.
Shorter, skinnier guys
can turn to Uniglo
(sized for petite Japa-
nese dudes) and Thom
Browne, while classic
American brands
including J. Crew and
Ralph Lauren tend

to fall on the larger
side. Once you find
ashirt that suits you
(shoulder seams
should sit at the edge
of your shoulders; the
front should be snug
without puckering),
buy it in quantity.

78

16. You'll need a tailor (a really
good one).

Some guys can dress entirely off the rack and
look great, but for the rest of us it takes a bit
of modification. This is doubly true when it
comes to suiting, which succeeds or fails de-
pending on how well it fits your body. A good
tailor can mean the difference between your
looking like a kid in his dad’s suit and looking
like the guy who owns the place. Do some re-
search. Ask around. Approach the best-dressed
man in your office and find out where he gets
his clothes tailored. And then be explicit about
what you want. Traditional tailors can be a con-
servative lot, so if you want that suit skinny,
make sure they make it skinny. If you like a
high-water look, don’t let them talk you out of
it. The first time you wear a jacket or trousers
that fit you perfectly, you'll understand.

— AA

A

\
%

i
\
i

1 «M
f f RON
DE ENT
JO

a M

"M TW

PN
)

17. A little military goes a long
way.

Fashion has gone hard corps for fall, with
military looks crowding the runways along
with an attendant surfeit of shiny brass but-
tons, kitschy braid trim and tricked-out fa-
tigue jackets. Serviceman style has been a
perennial influence for designers, but you
want to look current, not like you’re dressed
for a costume party. Go for a contemporary
interpretation such as the wool peacoat from
John Varvatos (pictured above), with its regi-
mental border stripe in a subtly contrasting
gray and the unexpected but sleek addition
of black leather panels at the pockets. As Mr.
Varvatos himself says, “Military-inspired
clothes are masculine and classic. They never
go out of style, which is why men love wearing
them each season.”

John Varvatos wool
peacoat, $1,298,
johnvarvatos.com.

18. FIND A STYLE
ICON AND LET HIM
GUIDE YOU.

Maybe it’s your dad,
maybe it’s Steve
McQueen, maybe it’s
Cornel West. These
guys spent decades
perfecting the art

of dressing, and you
could definitely learn
a thing or two from
them. Take note not
just of what they
wear, but of how
they wear it, the
countless details
that make a studied
outfit look effortless.
Finally, make the look
your own, adding
and subtracting
elements to tailor it
to your lifestyle and
personality.

19. BUY LOCAL
(AND PAY A

BIT MORE FOR IT).
Guys have more

style options than
ever before, from
international mega-
retailers as well as
homegrown brands.
Both have their
strengths, but buying
clothes that are made
inthe United States
not only supports
our economy, but the
garments are often of
much higher quality
than fast-fashion
imports. Check out
Alden for shoes, Free-
man for outerwear
and Tanner Goods
for belts and wallets.
Spend a bit extra and
feel good about wear-
ing something made
in your hometown.

20. ACCESSORIZE
WISELY.

Personalize your style
by working in a hand-
crafted accessory.

t might be a rough-
hammered silver
bracelet, a worn and
aged vintage belt or

a handmade leather
portfolio. Keep it
simple and take some
time to search out
the talisman that says
something about you.

79

BY GOLIN WINNETTE

PHOTOGRAPHY BY TREY WRIGHT

FICTION

“We have some information about your wife,” said a voice on the phone, and Iwas given

an address. This was good news. I hadn't heard from her in days. Y I ordered a car and be-

cause we're pinching pennies, I agreed to share the ride with another rider along the way.

She rode in the front with the driver, and they talked about which flowers were in sea-
son, because she was a florist and headed to work. When she asked where I was headed,

Itold her I was on my way to find my wife, and
she offered me a discount at her shop, if I was
willing to stop.

"These will show her that you care," she said,
stripping the thorns from the marked-down
bouquet.

Tdhad to let the car go, but it was easy enough to
order another, and, in the spirit of our new penny-
pinching arrangement, again I shared the ride.

“You're a decent man to share this ride,” said
the other rider, shaking my hand while passing
me a business card. She was a financial advisor,
specializing in retirement plans for freelance
workers, which both my wife and I are.

When I explained how funny that was, that
she was a financial advisor and I'd shared the
ride in part because of our recent financial
troubles and a half-cocked attempt at recover-
ingfrom them while workingto preventthem in
the future, she seemed alarmed.

"Nothing to do with finances should be half-
cocked,” she said, and she offered to take a look
at our books that afternoon, to help determine
if our plans would yield positive results, or if we
were only designing more trouble for ourselves.
WhenIexplainedthatIwason my way to find my
wifeatthatvery moment, shesaid, "Imagine how
your wife will feel if you arrive with that beauti-
ful bouquet and a rock-solid plan for your finan-
cial future," and it was hard to argue that she
wouldn'tfeel good. Money had always been a con-
cern for my wife, she'd never felt entirely stable,
and the thought of putting that lifelong worry of
hers to bed once and for all was exciting enough
to get metoletthe second car go and follow the fi-
nancial advisor up to her office, where we pored
over the available data and came up with what
sounded like a pretty good plan. We invested
most of the savings, but the investments were
diverse and, she assured me, would yield healthy
profits over time, though surely they would dip
and plateau as well, that was only natural for
something so chaotic and strange, but generally
trackable, as financial systems. She provided a
folder for the paperwork detailing all we'd done,
and I ordered a third car, which met me right

outside the building only a minute or two later.

Confident in our financial future, and know-
ing that I was running a little bit later than I'd
intended, I opted not to share the ride but to go
straight to the address I'd been provided. The
driver asked if we could take the highway, and I
deferred to his expertise, believing this would be
the fastest and clearest route, as well as the one
that would provide grand vistas of the moun-
tains and the bay, allowing me to reflect on the
timeI'd spent without my wife, my expectations
for our reunion, and how difficult it can be to
know what you want in life and actually get your
hands around it.

*You seem thoughtful," said the driver, who
had a calming presence, it was true, and an even
more calming voice, so calming in fact that I
opened up to him without even really realizing it,
explaining how Га been thinking about how dif-
ficult it can be to know what you want in life and
actually get your hands around it, showing him
the flowers, which were beginning to wilt, and
the folder of paperwork, which I presented up-
side down, spilling a page or two, nothing all that
important, while explaining how these little pre-
paratory steps would make things easier, would
help get things back on track, and would please
my wife, whom I hadn’t heard from ina few days,
and maybe even offer her a little bit of comfort.

I tried to collect the pages from the floor of the
car, but they were stuck, facedown, to something
that had been spilled there, for which the driver
apologized, explaining that it wasn’t technically
his car, but his cousin’s. The driver worked as a
counselor during the days and borrowed the car in
the late afternoons from his cousin, who worked
evenings at an adhesive factory and sometimes
transported buckets of adhesive to and from work
in the car before turning it over. I told the driver
it was fine, that the pages weren’t really all that
important anyway, and I apologized for having
added to the mess in the backseat, at which point
he sighed and shook his head and told me that if
Iwas actually going to get my hands around what
I wanted in life I would have to start standing up
for myself, as just a moment ago I'd been talking

about howimportant those pages were to me, how
they were going to help get things back on track
and please my wife, whom I hadn’t heard from in
several days, and would even provide her comfort,
but suddenly I was willing to abandon those pages
and even apologize to him, the man whose car the
pages had been abandoned to, to boot. He told me
that my eagerness to please was undermining the
desired results, as he would have actually been
much happier to see me grow upset over the loss of
the pages, to blame him for the presence of the ad-
hesive and the consequent damage to my presen-
tation, my plan, my wife’s comfort level, because
it would confirm his belief that I’d been honest
with him about caring about those things, thereby
bringing us closer, but what I had done instead
was present a mask of kindness and acceptance,
which required him to affirm my good behavior,
to mirror what acapable and understanding man
Iwas, what a decent human, thereby actually dis-
tancing us, making him feel that I was withhold-
ing my true feelings, not being forthright, opting
instead to take what could have been an honest ex-
change between two strangers on a track toward
knowing one another a little better and smother
it with my neediness, clouding the exchange with
my own compulsive need to see how wonderful I
was mirrored in anyone and everyone I encoun-
tered, which I masked as an attempt to please
him, but was actually an attempt to please myself.

We'd arrived at the address, where I paid him
and tipped handsomely, and he left me with his
business card, should I need clarification on
what we’d gone over, taped to an invoice for the
session, totaling $1,000, which was asizable bite
from what was left of our checking account and
would have to be gone over with the new finan-
cial advisor.

The address was for a vacant lot with a tele-
phone at its center, surrounded by a few men and
women in suits, all of whose attention was on me.

Iapproached them, greeted them, explained
that I was sorry to bother them, but I'd received
a call. “You have some information about my
wife?" I said.

“Yes,” they said. “She was just here." a

81

PLAYMATE

PHOTOGRAPHY BY CHRIS HEADS

“Women have gained more freedom in both business and everyday life than ever before,” says
Miss September Kelly Gale. “Of course, I say that as someone influenced by Swedish culture.”
Yes, Kelly is a Swede—born in Goteborg, the country’s second-largest city—but she’s also eth-
nically Australian, via her father, and Indian, via her mother. Altogether, she’s the epitome of a
cosmopolitan woman. She holds two passports, is fluent in two languages and is an advocate for
equal rights, a position informed by the progressive attitude embraced by her homeland, which
offers 480 days of parental leave and has a female archbishop heading the Church of Sweden.
“Women in Sweden are treated with a revolutionary level of respect that is unsurpassed in his-
tory, she says. “Still, the biggest obstacle is appreciating—and incorporating—each gender’s
uniqueness into society. We shouldn’t shy away from the fact that women develop differently
from men. We shouldn't listen to a female leader only when she has masculine characteristics.
Instead of moving toward one ‘omni-sex, which sometimes seems like what we’re trying to do,
we need to learn to benefit from men’s, women’s and transgender people’s individual voices.”

82

MAR

Кта
: y de
ws

MISS SEPTEMBER 2016

KELLY GALE

AGE: 21 BIRTHPLACE: Göteborg, Sweden CURRENT CITY: New York

MY DREAM JOB

am a passionate cook and have
always dreamed of working with
ood. (According to my friends and
amily, I’m great at it.) | make my
own breakfast every morning, and
'm most likely cooking a three-
course dinner on a Friday night.
Food—dark chocolate especially—
is something that will always make
me happy. In the future I'd love to

1 refuse to take a cab or public
transportation unless Im run-
ning late or it's freezing outside.

QUIT DRONING ON

Smalltalk bores me. | won't start a
conversation | have no interest in
having—and | never pretend to be
interested when I’m not. I’m hon-
estandreal. In other words, | won't
say “I love your shoes” unless | ac-

go to culinary school, write cook-
books and perhaps even open my
own health-food café.

WALK IT OFF, SHE SAYS

"т dedicated to having a happy
and healthy lifestyle, and part of
that means | walk a lot. And I’m
а superfast walker. Most people
don't love that about me because

5 @KellyBellyBoom

tually love the shoes. Also, don’t
ask me how much | get paid or any-
thing about makeup or clothing
trends. | don't care about trends.

THE DOWNSIDE TO HAVING A
“SOCIAL” LIFE

It's easy to paint a nice picture
of your life in the Instagram era,
but we're now witnessing how

Y eKellyBellyBoom

that behavior negatively affects
young women. What you see and
read isn't always the truth, and
there's a huge problem today
with young girls’ egos and how
they relate to what they see on
social media. Unfortunately, this
probably won't change until so-
cial media becomes outdated.

DON’T FORGET THE WHITE WINE

Growing up on Sweden's west
coast, | learned how to fish and
prepare my catch, which I still do
when | go back home. Right now
I'm obsessed with grilling a whole
fish, like a branzino, stuffed with
lemon, capers, garlic, chili and
parsley and serving it with grilled
vegetables. Sushi is also a guilty
pleasure of mine.

The Rise and Fall of

LOON

Chauncey “Loon” Hawkins was Harlem hustler royalty, a hit-writer for
Puff Daddy and a crucial part of the Bad Boy Records family. He looks back at
the wave that took him and the wreckage it left behind

The music video for “I Need a Girl (Part Two)”
is peak Puff Daddy absurdity, a guys’ night
out of epic proportions that begins with a he-
licopter landing and ends at a mansion party
featuring a girl-to-guy ratio of about 10 to one.
For Chauncey Hawkins, then known as the
rapper Loon, it was the first time he felt like
a hip-hop star.

Loon arrived on the Miami set that Febru-
ary 2002 afternoon with a plan. First, he se-
lected his motorcycle for the video, settling on
a Harley-Davidson chopper with ape-hanger
handlebars that not only looked cool but pro-
vided a stable ride. He also decided to play to
the camera. In his previous video with Puffy,
“I Need a Girl (Part One),” Loon at times
faded into the background. This time around
he was more confident, brazenly elbowing his
way into shots—dancing, champagne flute
in hand, surrounded by women; leaning on
a Ferrari 360 Spider as if he owned it; weav-
ing through the streets of Miami on his bike
alongside Puff and the R&B singer Ginuwine,
appearing to be every bit as much a celebrity
as his more famous collaborators.

But something else had changed since “Part

sy THOMAS GOLIANOPOULOS

»

One”: The fans on the set—the women in
particular—weren't there merely for Puff. “It
was amazing to hear people actually screaming
for me," Loon recalls. *It was everything I had
worked for, everything I had strived for."

Then it all changed. Just as Hawkins had
become Loon, Loon became Amir Junaid
Muhadith, and then, in July 2013, he became
a federal inmate in North Carolina. Far from
the private helicopters and champagne flutes,
Muhadith is loath to discuss the journey—his
debauched life as Sean Combs's wingman; the
horrors of crack-era Harlem that he barely
escaped; the sex, drugs and violence.

“How can I explain this without glorifying
it?" he says.

Situated about 20 minutes north of Durham,
North Carolina, the Butner Federal Correc-
tional Complex emerges like a squat concrete
box from the verdant undergrowth. It's asunny
spring morning, and the visiting room is awash
with friends and family of inmates. A little
girl plays Connect Four against a man with
tattooed knuckles. A woman wearing a Tom
Brady jersey hugs an inmate. The world’s two

friendliest prison guards man the front desk.

Abit past nine A.M., Muhadith, the man who
revived Puff Daddy’s music career after writ-
ing the “I Need a Girl" series, enters the room.
His standard-issue uniform consists of drab
olive-green khakis, a matching button-down
shirt and black Nike sneakers. For aman of 41,
Muhadith sports a privileged, tight hairline.
And though he’s gained 17 pounds since being
incarcerated, he’s still in excellent shape
thanks to daily calisthenics, cardio and the
requisite lifting routine, though only to stay
toned. “I can't get prison swole,” he jokes. But
what’s most striking is his majestic beard, an
unruly gray-speckled mass that extends half-
way down his chest.

Since this is a minimum-security build-
ing, little trouble brews here. Sure, tempers
occasionally flare, as is natural when some
300 men share any institutional facility, but
nobody would risk being sent up the road to
a higher-security building. Muhadith scans
the room. “I know all these guys,” he says.
“You can tell who’s in here for drugs and who’s
in here for white-collar crimes.” Jesse Jack-
son Jr. served time here. Bernie Madoff is in

ILLUSTRATION BY JIMMY TURRELL

96

a medium-security building. “A spy, Spanish
guy, Dominguez, was here,” Muhadith says.
“He told me stories about [former Panama-
nian dictator Manuel] Noriega.”

Muhadith’s trip here began in December 2008
when he quit the music industry, converted to
Islam and renamed himself Amir Junaid Mu-
hadith. In 2010 he moved to Egypt, where he
subsisted as a television host and nascent voice
on the religious-lecture circuit. Then, in No-
vember 2011, he was arrested in Brussels Air-
port on felony drug charges. The indictment
stated that Muhadith “knowingly and inten-
tionally conspired...with others, known and
unknown, to possess with intent to distribute”
heroin in North Carolina between 2006 and
2008. He pleaded guilty upon his extradition
to the United States. According to Muhadith,
he had two felonies already under his belt and
risked getting 25 years to life if he went to trial.
He couldn't take that chance. He was sentenced
to 14 years in prison.

Muhadith calls it “guilt by association.

LOON WAS A PERFECT FIT FOR
BAD BOY. COOL, GOGKY AND HAND-
SOME, HE PERSONIFIED TURN-OF-
THE-MILLENNIUM HARLEM SWAG.

Everything was hearsay. There was no tangi-
ble evidence.” To hear him tell it: One night
at Hot Beats Recording Studio in Atlanta, a
rapper he was advising asked Muhadith to in-
troduce him to a heroin supplier. Muhadith
complied, which he says was the end of his in-
volvement but enough to place him under the
umbrella of conspiracy once federal charges
were brought against the other artist.
Muhadith says there are discrepancies in
the case, including one that should have got-
ten it thrown out: The indictment states that
he was involved in this conspiracy from 2006
to 2008. But, he says, he didn’t meet the indi-
vidual until 2008. Why did he even make the
introduction? “That, um, was just me being
stupid, really,” he says wistfully. “It was just
a brief introduction. It cost me 168 months.”
Muhadith, who sprinkles his speech with
Arabic and verses from the Koran, remains
upbeat despite his long sentence. “The thing
that makes this easy for me is my religion,”
he says. “As long as I accord to what Islam
teaches, it doesn’t matter where I’m at.”

He is, in other words, firmly in the

present—though at times he’s like an old
guy at a bar, reminiscing about his heyday.
"I'm actually grateful that those things hap-
pened,” he says, “because all those events led
me to where I am now.”
The Harlem of Amir Muhadith’s formative
years didn’t resemble the glories of the Harlem
Renaissance or the gentrified neighborhood it
is today; some of the brownstones featured on
Million Dollar Listing New York were crack
houses when Loon walked these streets. In
his Harlem, kids grew up fast; Muhadith spent
his boyhood fighting, selling crack, smoking
weed, snorting coke, shooting dice and having
sex with older women. “I grew up exposed toa
lot of criminal behavior,” he says.

His parents, William “Hamburger” Hughley
and Carol Hawkins, were dubbed the Bonnie
and Clyde of 116th Street, hustlers who profited
from Harlem’s heroin epidemic in the 1970s.
Burger was sporty, stylish. He also may not be

Muhadith’s biological father. Carol worked for
the drug lord Nicky Barnes, dubbed “Mr. Un-
touchable” by The New York Times Magazine.
When she became pregnant, Carol says, Barnes
threw her a million-dollar baby shower.

Born in 1975, Muhadith had everything
growing up but supervision. “I was a great
provider, because I hustled,” Carol says. “It
didn’t change until he was about five, which
was when alot of the crackdown started. Then
that crack demon came along.” Barnes was
sent away in 1978, a few years before crack
replaced heroin as the neighborhood scourge.
By the time that transition was complete, in
the mid-1980s, Carol, once a budding queen-
pin, was ajunkie.

While Carol battled addiction, her mother,
Evelyn Hawkins, a pious beautician, and
her father, John, a World War II vet, raised
Muhadith in Esplanade Gardens. The 1,872-
unit complex situated on the Harlem River
was originally sold as a middle-class oasis
with an Olympic-size swimming pool and
the subway at its doorstep. But when Muhad-

ith was 14, one of his friends was shot outside
building number four.

Fearing for her grandson’s safety, Evelyn
sent him to live with his godfather, the movie
producer George Jackson (Krush Groove, New
Jack City), in Beverly Hills. Suddenly Muhad-
ith was the original Fresh Prince. He was still
angry, though, and still hobnobbed with the
wrong crowd. He was classmates with Angelina
Jolie and other rich kids at Beverly Hills High
but gravitated toward the Mansfield Crips on
the West Side. He was nicknamed Loon, as
in “loony Loon,” for doing crazy shit, mostly
fighting, and he lived up to the moniker. “I beat
the wheels off this white boy on my track team
for putting his feet on me at practice,” Muha-
dith recalls. Embarrassed, Jackson threw him
out after a little more than a year.

Back with his grandparents in Harlem,
Muhadith slung crack. “I started hustling
to be in the streets with my mother. In some
sick, sadistic way that was my way of being
with her,” he says. “Me and my mom are like
brother and sister—that’s com-
mon where I come from. But she
put me through so much.”

Carol Hawkins gambled, stole
crack from dealers and even
helped herself to her son's stash,
which was hidden in a hollowed-
out stuffed animal. “My mom
stole so much money from me
that it put me in debt to some
malicious guys,” Muhadith says.
Once he’d paid back his suppli-
ers, he made a deal with his mother: “I told
her, ‘If you stop using drugs, I'll stop selling
drugs, because you are about to get me killed.’
From that day on, my mother was drug-free,
and I left the streets. I never sold drugs again.”
Although hip-hop was born nearby, in the
Bronx, Harlem wasn’t fertile ground for rap-
pers. Rap was considered a reach, while crack,
on the other hand, was making a lot of people
alotof money. That route closed for Muhadith
with his mother's sobriety.

He started by writing rhymes in a diary.
Eventually, after filling *notebook after note-
book,” he found the courage to spit for hip-hop
pioneer Fab 5 Freddy, a friend of George Jack-
son's and the host of Yo! MTV Raps. Freddy
wasn't impressed. “That's a freestyle," he said
dismissively after each rhyme. However, he
did offer some constructive criticism: Write
complete concepts and complete stories. With
that advice in hand, the newly named Loon set
out to pursue a career in rap.

In 1997, Harlem finally produced a bona

98

Left: Loon (|

fide rap star, Mase—a former high school
basketball player who shelved his hoop dreams
to hit it big with Puff Daddy’s Bad Boy Records.
After his 1997 debut album, Harlem World,
went quadruple platinum, he asked Loon to
anchor arap group also named Harlem World.
There was a problem: Loon and Mase were en-
gaged in a cold war of sorts. The two rappers
shared a similar voice and flow, which in the
provincial world of Harlem—and hip-hop in
general—was a violation. Still, Loon joined
forces with his longtime frenemy. The group’s
album tanked, and Mase left the music indus-
try for the church shortly thereafter.
Following a string of failed deals at Sony
and Arista, Loon turned to ghostwriting for
artists including Shaquille O’Neal and Puff
Daddy. Then, in the summer of 2000, he found
himself in Miami, writing for Puff Daddy’s
upcoming album The Saga Continues.... It
was an important comeback attempt for Bad
Boy following the Notorious B.I.G.'s death,
Mase's retirement and the disappointing
sales of Puff's previous album, Forever. Noth-
ing was left to chance. At Circle House Stu-
dios, ablackboard loomed on the wall, marked
with songtitles and progress reports denoting
which songs were complete and which needed

verses or hooks. “I saw an opportunity in that
blackboard," Muhadith says. What was meant
to be a four-day gig stretched into a two-week-
long residency that produced 11 songs and a
relationship that would alter both of their
careers. Loon even postponed his wedding,
scheduled for the week after he first arrived
in Miami, to write for Puff.

"Every day he said he was coming home.
Finally I was like, ‘All right, what is going on?’
He was like, ‘I can't leave. I have to finish this
album.’ This was days before the wedding,”
says his wife, Nona Crowd. ^He convinced me
we weren't canceling the wedding, just post-
poning it, becausethis was his big chance." The
wedding was postponed for nearly nine years.

Puff was impressed with Loon's drive. “Puff
loved the work ethic—well, Puff likes whoever
can make him money,” says Loon’s former
Harlem World group mate Michael “Blinky
Blink” Foster. “He also likes people who don’t
complain. If Puff didn’t like what he wrote,
Loon would just write another verse.”

The two Harlemites shared more than am-
bition: Their fathers, it turned out, had been
friends—and largely absent from both of their
lives. Puff was three years old when his father,
a hustler named Melvin Combs, was mur-

dered; Burger died of cancer when Loon was a
teen. Puff and Loon bonded, and one night in
the studio Puff spilled his guts about his re-
cent breakup with Jennifer Lopez. “This was
abroken guy," Muhadith says. ^He'stelling me
the story of him and J. Lo. ‘I lost my girl. I got
it all and no one to share it with.’ Then it hits
me.” Loon took Puff’s tragedy—the personal
anecdotes, the feelings, the emotions—and
crafted “I Need a Girl (Part One),” a post-
breakup love letter from Puff to J. Lo for the
entire world to hear.

First we were friends then became lovers

You was more than my girl, we was like
brothers

All night we would play fight under covers

Now you gone, can’t love you like I really
wanna

But every time I think about your pretty
smile

And how we used to drive the whole city wild

Damn I wish уои would've had my child....

“T Need a Girl (Part One)” and its sequel, “I
Need a Girl (Part Two),” both featuring Loon,
were Puff's biggest hits in years, peaking at
number two and number four respectively on
the Billboard Hot 100 chart. Bad Boy Records

hd

FLAME

G+ADVERTISING

Loon (left) with Puff Daddy at the premiere of Bad Boys Il in New York City in 2003.

was back, armed with a new star. “Loon gave
Bad Boy a boost,” says former Hot 97 DJ Mis-
ter Cee. “‘I Need a Girl’ dominated radio. It
got the Bad Boy train rolling again.”

At first glance, Loon seemed to be a perfect
fit for Bad Boy. Cool, cocky and handsome, he
personified turn-of-the-millennium Harlem
swag. His music also slotted nicely into the
space left vacant following Mase’s departure:
sly wordplay and a lethargic flow—which, yes,
was similar to Mase’s—over bubbly produc-
tion built for the clubs.

Loon’s ascent continued with cameos on
hit records from Mario Winans, Toni Brax-
ton and 3LW, but the business of music inter-
fered when Bad Boy’s transition from Arista
to Universal delayed his solo album. There
were also artistic differences. Loon was un-
comfortable being the label’s token dream-
boat rapper—“the wedding singer,” as he calls
it—and yearned to make grittier records simi-
lar to his 1995 single, “Scotch on the Rocks,”
or “You Made Me” from the Harlem World
album. But, he says, Puff frowned whenever
Loon strayed from his lane.

Released in October 2003, Loon's self-titled
debut was a modest success, peaking at num-
ber six on the Billboard 200 before plummet-
ing. He believes the album wasn't promoted

or marketed properly because, he says, he
was receiving a higher percentage of royalties
than most Bad Boy artists. “I had a few heated
moments with Puff. I wanted to fight him,”
Muhadith says. “But I liked Sean John Combs;
I wasn’t really a Diddy fan.” In December
2004, he left Bad Boy “on a good note." (Combs
and Bad Boy president Harve Pierre declined
requests to comment.)

Loon grew frustrated as he attempted to
reignite his career out from under the shadow
of Bad Boy. Performances and royalties paid
the bills, but he lived check to check. He was
drinking more, smoking more weed, playing
video games all night. In interviews he lashed
out at Mase and others. He hit the rapper 40
Cal with a shovel during an altercation at a
Harlem barbershop. He felt overwhelmed: A
hit record meant he’d have to write another
hit record and another after that. There was
no end in sight.

“I was empty,” Muhadith says. “I hadn’t
cried in a long time. I hadn’t felt anything in
along time.” He was searching for something,
and he found it early one morning while on
tour in Abu Dhabi.

The story of how Loon converted to Islam is
neat and convenient, almost like a superhero
origin story. From his balcony at the Emir-
ates Palace hotel, he saw three seagulls flying

in the distance. When he went inside to un-
pack, the three seagulls landed on his balcony.
“Something really special was happening in
my heart,” Muhadith says. His mind swam
with the recent positive exchanges he’d had
with Muslims in Senegal, Kazakhstan and
Dubai. The solution to his problems became
clear. He ran to the lobby, asking, “How do I
become a Muslim?” A man led him in reciting
the shahada, the Muslim profession of faith.

From then on he decided to abstain from
past sins—drugs, alcohol, adultery and music.
Crowd saw an immediate difference. “He was
more caring, honest. He paid more attention,”
she says. “Seeing the changes he was making
was an inspiration.”

Being a Muslim in Butner isn’t that bad,
Muhadith says. Inmates can prepare their
own food and are provided with a meal be-
fore dawn during Ramadan. As the prison
imam, Muhadith continues to study Islam and
teaches Arabic.

“You see this guy behind us? Military guy,”
he tells me without lowering his voice. “He
said some derogatory remarks about Muslims
that got back to me. I didn’t get mad. I ap-
proached him and said, ‘Seventy-two percent
of Americans have never met a Muslim. Is it
safe to say that you're one of them?’ ”

Muhadith places his hand on my shoul-

der. “Look, I don’t want people to think I’m
a square,” he says. “I’m not a holy roller. I
still have a personality. I still have a sense of
humor.” His high-pitched giggle and dead-
pan wit—“It’s my cheat day,” he says when
selecting an Almond Joy from the vending
machine—are apparent. “I just have bound-
aries. Before, I had no boundaries.”
Soon after his spiritual awakening, Muha-
dith’s life took another significant turn. For
years he’d heard whispers that Joseph “Jazz”
Hayden, a former associate of Nicky Barnes’s
who’d served 13 years for manslaughter, was
his biological father. After hanging out with
Hayden, Muhadith noticed similarities.
“Something about his style,” he says, “the
way he walked, the way he talked.” Muhadith
hopes to take a DNA test soon.

Who does he think is his father, Burger
Hughley or Jazz Hayden? “I don’t know. I’m 41
years old and I’m not sure who my father is,”
he says. “It doesn’t matter. Both are hood roy-
alty." He then smiles. “Ask my mom. I'm curi-
ous what she’d say.”

Two weeks later, I meet Carol Hawkins on
the corner of 116th Street and Adam Clayton
Powell Jr. Boulevard, outside the First Corin-
thian Baptist Church, where she worships.

100

She wears furry Steve Madden boots, khakis
and a plaid shirt with a cream wool sweater
coat over it. Her hair is pulled back in a tight
ponytail. We drive uptown in her black Nissan
Pathfinder before parking on 148th Street in
front of Esplanade Gardens. Then she tells the
story of how she met Nicky Barnes.

One day on her way home from tennis, she
spotted a handful of police officers with bin-
oculars at agas station on 150th Street. As she
walked toward her building, she recognized
Barnes, by that point a notorious neighbor-
hood figure, at the bus stop. She warned him
about the surveillance and offered to hide his
stash in her parents’ apartment. “Ever since
then, I was holding drugs,” she tells me. “After
Istarted making all that money, I didn’t want
to go to school no more.”

She met Burger Hughley soon after. He was
older, at least 15 years her senior, and he show-
ered her with money, clothes and attention.
The fact that he was married didn’t affect
the relationship. “I wouldn’t
have cared if he had five wives,”
Hawkins says. “He was making
me happy.”

The drug game was lucrative,
and Hawkins soon owned fur
coats, a Cadillac, a Mercedes.
Sometimes they’d drive to the
airport and, on a whim, pick
somewhere warm to fly. San
Juan, Vegas and Acapulco were
among their favorite destina-
tions. When I ask her what specifically the
money was like, all she can do is look up and
mutter, “Oh God, oh man.” A beat passes be-
fore she turns and says, “I used to make more
than $20,000 a day.”

It didn’t last, of course. “I got up with
that crack,” she explains. After her son’s
proposition—he’d stop selling drugs if she’d
stop using them—Hawkins went to rehab in
Rochester, New York, where she found God.
She is now sober and works for a community
health organization. A devout Christian, she
tells me she’s nothing but supportive of Mu-
hadith’s conversion to Islam. “He has found
peace in his life,” she says. “He found a god
he loves and serves. Even though he calls him
Allah, he’s the same God I love and serve.”

I ask if she knows definitively who fathered
Muhadith. “No, I don't, to be honest,” she says,
speaking deliberately. “I do know for sure that
I was in Vegas with Jazz and the math added
up to Jazz, but I didn’t want to hurt Burger’s
feelings because he was walking around being
such a proud dad. I don’t know. I was young. I
made an executive decision to just say that it

was Burger. It kept away a lot of hurt and ex-
plaining.” Hayden, nowacommunity activist,
did not respond to e-mails.

We sit quietly in the Pathfinder. Then she
calls her parents. “You wanna go up and meet
them?” she asks me.

Hawkins exits her car gingerly. She’s 61, and
her knees are shot. As we make our way to the
entrance, she gives an improvised tour of Es-
planade Gardens. “This is the smoking cor-
ner,” she says. “It was my smoke corner, then
my kid’s, then my kid’s kids.”

On the 27th floor sits the Hawkinses’ three-
bedroom apartment; a balcony offers stun-
ning views of Harlem to the west and Yankee
Stadium to the north. “My mother loves them
damn Yankees,” Hawkins says. And here she
is, Miss Hawkins, 86 years old but still going
strong. She wears a shirt that reads wHEN
GOD CLOSES A DOOR, HE OPENS A WINDOW. She
makes sure I see the ASCAP award her grand-
son won for “I Need a Girl.”

Miss Hawkins plans to write a character let-
ter for Muhadith later in the week. “Oh God, I
miss him,” she says. “He calls me, sometimes
twice a week. I said, “You see this situation you
in now? That’s what I tried to get you to by-
pass. That’s why I worked so hard with you.
That’s why I brought you up in the church.’ I
was very disappointed with his situation.”

Later, on our way out, Carol Hawkins greets
nearly every person she passes.

“You know everyone,” I joke.

“Yeah,” she says. “I been round here a long

time.”
Although he’s not scheduled for release until
August 2021, Muhadith is doing everything
he can to expedite things. He has applied for
executive clemency, a pardon that would ar-
rive during President Obama’s final days in
office. It has happened before—George W.
Bush pardoned John Forté, the ex-Fugees
associate who was serving 14 years in prison
for smuggling cocaine.

Muhadith already has plans for when he’s
a free man. He'll reestablish his relationship

with his wife, who works as a chef in North
Carolina and visits him regularly, and his
seven children, and he hopes to return to the
lecture circuit to share his story with Muslim
youth. A move overseas, once it’s possible, is
more than likely. He won’t write or record new
music, though he does admit to sometimes
thinking about rap, comparing the sensation
to what a recovered alcoholic must feel when
walking past a liquor store. And sometimes
it’s unavoidable. At one point during the af-
ternoon, the visitation-room radio blasts “Mo
Money Mo Problems" by the Notorious B.I.G.,
Mase and Puff Daddy.

Muhadith was disappointed to learn about
the current Bad Boy reunion tour. “What kind
of reunion will it be?" he asks. A fair question
considering Biggie is gone, Craig Mack has
reportedly joined a religious cult, and Loon
and G. Dep are incarcerated. When asked
why so many former Bad Boy artists either
find religion or become incarcerated (or, in

“I TOLD HER, ‘IF YOU STOP USING
DRUGS, PLL STOP SELLING DRUGS,
BEGAUSE YOU ARE ABOUT TO GET
ME KILLED.’ I LEFT THE STREETS."

Muhadith’s case, both), he says, “I don’t attri-
bute it to Puff. Being on Bad Boy you're riding
this tidal wave that you can’t prepare for. Like
most people who ride waves of that magnitude,
they often wipe out.”

The wave no longer appeals to Muhad-
ith, but the fame is residual. Just before
visiting hours end, a young inmate and his
girlfriend—long black wavy hair, green eyes,
ballet flats, skinny jeans, stunning curves—
approach Muhadith. “Hey, man, she saw you
and wanted to meet you,” the other inmate
says. Muhadith appears embarrassed. The
woman is starstruck, standing on her toes,
head tilted, big smile, giggling nonstop. “Uh-
oh, I better watch her around you,” her boy-
friend cracks.

Muhadith laughs afterward. The encoun-
ter reminds him ofa past that shaped him but
no longer defines him. “This whole situation
has been a purification for me,” he says. “My
life from the streets to the music industry was
always ripping and running. It was nonstop.
This has become a vacation. Am I over this
vacation? Yeah, Iam.” B

101

ASSV'I5HVNNVH 00% SINVIA 95H25 +8 ^нчуноотона

Uiddra

_

ARTIST IN RESIDENCE

BEN
VENOM

Black metal, satanic imagery and biker-gang iconography are all subjects that San Francisco-based

artist Ben Venom (a.k.a. Ben Baumgartner) lovingly transforms into quilts. Yes, quilts. How exactly
did a metalhead with an MFA from the San Francisco Art Institute gravitate toward the methods of
your great-grandma’s sewing circle? As a graduate student in 2006, Venom saw an exhibit of works
by the legendary African American quilters of Gee's Bend, Alabama in which scraps of clothing were
sewn into bold geometric patterns. He says he was inspired by the craftsmanship and by the idea of
up-cycling. Applying his own interests to the medium, he arrived at a body of work he describes as a
"collision." Venom says, “I combine various macho, loud and disparate elements of culture with the
relatively soft and functional medium of textiles. I turn it up to 11 and push it past the red." Instead
of using folksy ornamentation and calico quilting patterns, Venom mostly works with recycled scrap
fabric and concert T-shirts purchased online. In his I Am the Night Rider, a skeleton holding a flam-
ing torch in one hand and in the other a frayed American flag, its stars replaced by a pair of rolling
dice, rides on the back of a racing wolf. Sewn-together bits of Harley-Davidson T-shirts and tie-dyed
material flesh out the body of the wolf, while the entire piece maintains the symmetry and compo-
sition of classic patchwork quilting. Into other pieces, Venom stitches rallying cries and outsider
credos such as “Live fast,” "Don't tread on me” and “Fly by night” and makes playful use of iconic
figures including Hello Kitty and the Playboy Rabbit Head. His work has been shown nationally and
internationally, yet Venom constructs each of his pieces to be practical and durable. He contends
that his quilts, while decorative as well as thought-provoking, are still functional. “When hell freezes
over,” Venom says, “the beasts of metal will have a warm blanket to sleep with." —Eric Steinman

Opposite page: Artist Ben Venom with Don't Tread on Me! (handmade quilt with recycled fabric, 87 x 155 inches, 2015) and a collection of customized clothing.

110

PHOTOGRAPHY BY RANDY DODSON

Top: Member's Only. Handmade quilt with recycled fabric,
17 x 17 inches, 2015. Bottom: Use Your Illusion. Handmade quilt with recycled
fabric, 25 x 25 inches, 2016. Right: / Am the Night Rider. Handmade quilt
with recycled fabric, 47 x 58 inches, 2015.

112

E
ў
1
e
г
^

é
$
t

>

U.S. MILITARY

MEN'S LEATHER ID BRACELETS
IN YOUR CHOICE OF SERVICE BRANCH

"ÉSEMPER FI MEM
5

MARINES

T US NAVY 5; D 7 AIR FORCE j A
a w © < - ч -

Reverse side personalized y^ > Stainless steel MAGNETIC
with initials of your choice... R M I > clasp makes it easy to open
HONOR COURAGE COMMITMENT and close the bracelet. Closed

THE
BRADFORD EXCHANGE

= JEWELRY =
Our US. Armed Forces—Army, 9345 Milwaukee Avenue - Niles, IL 60714-1393
Navy, Air Force, Marines—and
those who have served under
their proud emblems have
stood strong through the years O United States Marines Bracelet 01-20544-001 О U.S. Army Bracelet 01-21238-001
defending freedom wherever O U.S. Navy Bracelet 01-21233-001 O US. Air Force Bracelet 01-21329-001
challenged. Now, you can show
your pride with our leather ID
bracelets, honoring each military ; Signature
division. Mrs. Mr. Ms.

Please reserve the Military 1.D, Bracelet for me, as described in this announcement, checked at
right, with the initials indicated.

Name (Please Print Clearly)

Over, please
Address

www.bradfordexchange.com : City

E-Mail (Optional
€2015 The Bradford Exchange (Op - - 一
01-20544-001-JISMPO *Plus $9.98 shipping and service. Please allow 4-6 weeks after initial payment for shipment of your jewelry. E30201

Sales subject to product availability and order acceptance.

U.S. MILITARY

MEN'S LEATHER ID BRACELETS
IN YOUR CHOICE OF SERVICE BRANCH

MARINES

; _—= ' -
THIS WE'LL DEFEND NA MR FORCE
w CECI > 1 а

AIR FORGE

Reverse side personalized 了 了
with initials of your choice... RMB
HONOR COURAGE COMMITMENT

A DISTINCTIVE STATEMENT

This bold design features a braided genuine leather bracelet, with a cylinder at the center in durable solid stainless steel that showcases
the service branch’s sculpted emblem, and branch name or motto. The reverse side of the cylinder is personalized with the 3 etched
initials of your choice... at no extra cost, along with the service branch’s core values (for USMC, Navy and Air Force). Two stainless steel
and black enamel beads emblazoned with branch name on each side of the cylinder have ion-plated 24K-gold accents. Sized at 8%” to
fit most wrists, the bracelet closes with a stainless steel magnetic clasp, making it easy to put on or take off.

www.bradfordexchange.com AN EXCEPTIONAL VALUE

' This custom bracelet, in your choice

NO POSTAGE ! of 4 service branches, is a remark-
NECESSARY ' able value at $89* each, payable in
deca ' 4 easy installments of just $22.25
UNITED STATES | ; and is backed by our unconditional
: 120-day guarantee. Each brace-

' let arrives in a jewelry pouch and
' gift box along with a Certificate
' of Authenticity. To reserve yours,
' send no money now; just mail the
' Priority Reservation. This limited-
' time offer is only available from The

THE BRADFORD EXCHANGE Bradford Exchange. So don't delay...
‚ Order today!

9345 N MILWAUKEE AVE a |
1 "Officially Licensed Product of the United States Marine Corps.

N | L E 5 | L 6 0 7 1 4 - 9 8 9 1 ' By federal law, licensing fees paid to the U.S. Army for use of its
; trademarks provide support to the Army Trademark Licensing
1 Program, and net licensing revenue is devoted to U.S. Army
1 Morale, Welfare, and Recreation programs. U.S. Army name,
1 trademarks and logos are protected under federal law and used under
ı license by The Bradford Exchange.

“Department of the Air Force. Officially licensed product of the Air

ı Force (www.airforce.com).
! Neither the U.S. Navy nor any other component of the Department of
, Defense has approved, endorsed or authorized the Navy product.

ШЧ ©2016 The Bradford Exchange 01-20544-001-JISMPO
i
1

THE
BRADFORD EXCHANGE | | | |

BUSINESS REPLY MAIL

FIRST-CLASS MAIL PERMIT NO. 73554 CHICAGO IL
POSTAGE WILL BE PAID BY ADDRESSEE

Anne Stokes
ummon the Reaper
Zippo* Lighter Collectión Y

жч:

ZIPPO
Authentic Zippo® windproof

lighters with evocative fantasy
art by Anne Stokes

$100-value custom display ^

with sculptural Gothic figures
inspired by the artwork

Limited to 10,000
Complete Collections

St Top,
3 AM

|
I.

EA P SN
брт A

SS

J

W. Lighters ship unfilled; lighter fluid not included. 7

rana V V a ы Mrs. Mr. Ms.
BRADE ORD: EXCHANGE Name (Please Print Clearly)

9345 Milwaukee Avenue - Niles, IL 60714-1393 Address

Please reserve the Anne Stokes Summon the _.
Reaper Zippo® Lighter Collection as described in this City 2

announcement. .
ı.bradfordexchange.com/904505 Limit: one per order. Stae Zn

*Plus $8.99 shipping and service per edition. Display will be shipped after

©2016 BGE 01-23769-001-SI second lighter. Limited-edition presentation restricted to 10,000 complete Email (optional

collections. Please allow 4-6 weeks after initial payment for shipment.
Sales subject to product availability and order acceptance. 904505-E30291

Over, please

Igniting a Dark and
\ Powerful Beauty

Creator of captivating fantasy characters and richly stylized Gothic
designs, Anne Stokes is one of the most sought-after fantasy artists of
her time. Now her vivid imagination sparks an intriguing collection
that will soon have you under its spell: the Anne Stokes Summon the
Reaper Zippo® Lighter Collection.

А

The eight genuine Zippo® windproof lighters in the collection
are boldly emblazoned with Anne Stokes’ mesmerizing blend of
hauntingly beautiful fantasy maidens, skeletons, crosses, and
entrancing designs on shining chrome finish. Each bears the Zippo®
bottom stamp, your assurance of the genuine article. A magnificent,
one-of-a-kind masterpiece display, valued at $100.00, is yours for the
price of a single lighter. Customized for this collection, this octagonal
display brings Anne Stokes’ immortal “Summon the Reaper” artwork
into your world in three hand-painted dimensions.

STRICTLY LIMITED TO 10,000 Zippo

COMPLETE COLLECTIONS

Order the 9 limited editions (8
lighters plus display) at the issue
price of $39.99* each, payable in

two installments of $19.99, the
Fear Not the Reaper

> д ;
A door to fantasy and legend opens with the dramatic, first due before shipment. You'll
hand-painted character display with crypt-inspired base receive one edition about every

Back View

EA other month; cancel at any time by
© Anne Stokes and the 2,25 — Licensed notifying us. Send no money now.
a a R Return the Reservation Application

www.bradfordexchange.com/904505 today.

Distinctive bottom
stamp authenticates

fa
this collectible as (EEE)

| | | NO POSTAGE a genuine Zippoe М = = ر‎

— Ve ___
BRADFORD EXCHANGE NECESSARY windproof lighter.

IF MAILED
IN THE Е ‘ZIPPO? ZIPPO, and ( are registered
trademarks in the United States and in many

UNITED STATES countries. The listed Trademarks are used in the
United States under license of ZippMark, Inc. All
Zippo lighter decorations are protected by copyright.
Zippo Manufacturing Company.
All Rights Reserved. 2016

BUSINESS REPLY MAIL

FIRST-CLASS MAIL PERMIT NO. 73554 CHICAGO IL
POSTAGE WILL BE PAID BY ADDRESSEE

THE BRADFORD EXCHANGE
9345 N MILWAUKEE AVE
NILES IL 60714-9891

lpp [HEB oe po e ate [p [ll cg H [E [ [HH ©2016 BGE 01-23769-001-SI

A Grand

22 Inches

High!

Cuckoo Clo

Plays
The Munsters
theme song!

A delightfully spooky
cuckoo, Charlie the Raven
always watches from
his tower window

Shown much smaller than actual size of

about 22 in. H. (including weights).
T Requires 3 "AAA and 2 "AA" batteries
i (not included).

©2016 BGE 01-21901-001-SI

www.bradfordexchange.com/munsters
RESERVATION APPLICATION SEND NO MONEY NOW

BR; ADFORD "EXCHANGE
HOME DECOR-
9345 Milwaukee Avenue
YES. Piease ve the The Munsters Cuckoo Clock for me
as described in this announcement
Limit: one per order. Please Respond Promptly

Mrs. Mr. Ms

Address
City

City

State

Email (optional)

Mun: ters Come to Life in
Spooktacular Detail!

T -sculpted clock is hand-cast and hand-painted in
black and white, reminiscent of the classic television show!

|) = The Munsters theme song plays and the windows light up
at the top of each hour!

* Captures each darkly enchanting Gothic detail of the
Munster mansion at 1313 Mockingbird Lane

* Everyone's favorite monsters welcome you at the doorstep:
Herman, Lily, Grandpa, Marilyn, and Eddie with Woof Woof—
plus the famous Drag-U-La dragster!

* Charlie the Raven is a perfectly spooky cuckoo, always
watching from his tower window

Your Satisfaction is 100% Guaranteed!
This first-of-its-kind black and white timepiece is custom
sculpted in a strictly limited edition, and includes a
Certificate of Authenticity. Strong demand is expected, so
act now to acquire The Munsters Cuckoo Clock at its issue
price, payable in five monthly installments of just $39.99
васп, for a total of $199.95*. Your purchase is risk-free,
backed by our 365-day guarantee. Send no money now;
you will be billed before shipment. Simply complete and
mail the Reservation Application today!

CUT ALONG DOTTED LINE

BRADFORD EXCHANG NO POSTAGE
NECESSARY

IF MAILED
IN THE
UNITED STATES

POSTAGE WILL BE PAID BY ADDRESSEE

THE BRADFORD EXCHANGE
9345 N MILWAUKEE AVE
NILES IL 60714-9891

'ulpted c

hand pa

ted arti
геа arusa

captu
|

iehts and delig

uckoo

inted by

ns to

re the

hts of

A REAL WORKING HO-SCALE ELECTRIC TRAIN COLLECTION
FEATURING SCULPTED REPLICAS OF THE LEGENDARY INDIAN MOTORCYCLE®

1928 A PIECE oF 4

INDIAN 1015 ЭРЕ HISTORY

pd

=
—
—
—
سے‎
—
—
p
—
—

14-piece track Ш ШШЩ
set, power-pack & Ё
speed controller ;

included with
MASTERPIECE
Shipments 2&3 | [ЖИЛЕ Fine collectible. Not intended for children under 14.

THE

A PIECE OF AMERICAN ASS ZA \ | Please enter my order for BRADFORNIESCHANGE 9345 Milwaukee Avenue Niles, IL 60714-1393
one Indian Motorcycle® Express HAWTHORNE VILLAGE DIVISION
electric train collection, beginning Signature
with the Diesel Locomotive as es

described in this announcement. Name (Please Print Clearly)
Address

1928

The 1928 Indian® 101 Scout— known for City
its combination of stability and handling— < > of Ai | State Zip
is still in use today for stunt riding. This 65- c ae

faithful replica is removable and free- E T Е : ==
T 5 ý Plus $9.99 shipping and service. All sales are subject to acceptance and product availability. 917855-E30202
standing for display wherever you choose! = > > Please allow 4-6 weeks after initial payment for shipment.

MOTORCYCLE

1928 A PIECE 0

NDIAN 10] RAZR

um:

] This real working HO-scale electric train is boldly
decorated with the famous colors, official logos and classic slogans of this
true American motorcycling legend. You’ll appreciate the extraordinary
wealth of impeccably authentic details devoted to every inch of this heirloom-
quality train. Plus, you’ll enjoy the faithfully sculpted replicas of some of
Indian® Motorcycle’s most popular and legendary bikes including the 1928

on CUT ALONG DOTTED LINE

NO POSTAGE
NECESSARY
IF MAILED
IN THE
UNITED STATES

THE
BRADFORD EXCHANGE | |

BUSINESS REPLY MAIL

FIRST-CLASS MAIL PERMIT NO. 73554 CHICAGO IL
POSTAGE WILL BE PAID BY ADDRESSEE

THE BRADFORD EXCHANGE
9345 N MILWAUKEE AVE
NILES IL 60714-9891

Indian® 101 Scout and the 1948 Indian® Chief. These beautiful reproductions

each “ride” on their own Flat Car with backdrops featuring the look of
vintage Indian Motorcycle® advertising and are removable and free-standing
for display wherever you choose!

Begin your train collection with the “Indian Motorcycle® Diesel Locomotive”
for three easy payments of $26.66*, the first billed before shipment.
Subsequent cars—some with sculpted Indian® Motorcycles—will each
be billed separately at the same low price and sent about every other
month. In addition, you’ll receive the track set, power-pack and speed
controller—a $100 value—FREE with Shipments Two and Three! With our
best-in-the-business 365-day guarantee, your satisfaction is assured and
you may cancel at any time.

This is a limited-time offer and strong ciemam! is expected You need

EF send no money now.
Just sign and mail the
post paid Reservation
Application today!

1948 FI

INDIAN CHIES

THE

BRADFORD EXCHANGE

HAWTHORNE VILLAGE DIVISION

Official licensed product of Indian Motorcycle International, LLC, all rights reserved.
INDIAN MOTORCYCLE? is a registered trademark of Indian Motorcycle, LLC
©Hawthorne Village 14-01617-001-JIPB

hd

PLAYBACK

CHICAGO, 1972
The Rolling Stones visit Hef at the original Playboy Mansion.

14

THE EFFEN®
BLOOD ORANGE MIMOSA

1 part EFFEN® Blood Orange Vodka
1 part orange juice

3 parts sparkling wine

Cherry garnish

Shake first two ingredients with ice
and strain into a chilled champagne
flute. Top with sparkling wine.
Garnish with a cherry dropped in.

NEW ON THE SCENE
AND DRESSED TO IMPRESS

INTRODUCING EFFEN® BLOOD ORANGE VODKA

#EFFENVODKA

Drink Responsibly. EFFEN® Blood Orange Flavored Vodka, distilled from wheat grain, 37.5% alc./vol. (75 proof). ©2016 EFFEN Import Company, Deerfield, IL.

Drink Responsibly.
EFFEN® Flavored Vodkas, Distilled from Grain, 37.5% alc./vol.
(75 proof) © 2016 EFFEN Import Company, Deerfield, IL.

l

>>... YOUR
STYLE WITH A
NEW FLAVOR

INTRODUCING

EFFEN? GREEN APPLE,
BLOOD ORANGE, AND
RASPBERRY VODKA

THE EFFEN®
GREEN APPLE COOLER

1% parts EFFEN® Green Apple Vodka
3 parts lemonade

1 part lemon-lime soda

Lemon & lime wedges

Build over ice in a serving glass
in the order listed. Garnish with
lemon & lime wedges.

NOW ARRIVING
TO STEAL THE SHOW

INTRODUCING EFFEN® GREEN APPLE VODKA

#EFFENVODKA

Drink Responsibly. EFFEN® Green Apple Flavored Vodka, distilled from wheat grain, 37.5% alc./vol. (75 proof). ©2016 EFFEN Import Company, Deerfield, IL.