The

Bolt The Edison Charger Newspaper January/February 2015

Mutant Germs, or Cleanly

Hands: The Truth About

Hand Sanitizer Emi Yasuda

While it may make your whole lunch taste like “Wild

Mango Mojito,” thousands of Americans still swear by

hand sanitizer as an on-the-go essential. But due to

inconclusive research, the verdict is still out on whether or

not hand sanitizer and other antibacterial products are

truly beneficial.

While dozens of questions remain unanswered, a

few things are for certain. “Alcohol-based hand sanitizers

are,” according to Mercy Medical Center’s Dr. Aaron E.

Glatt, “a useful and important method to prevent most

bacterial and viral infections.” They quickly reduce the

number of microbes on your hands with 95%

effectiveness in concentrations of alcohol greater than

60%. But despite the large percentage of bacterium hand sanitizers eliminate, plain soap and water remains the

superior alternative. Many discount chains carry inferior antiseptics, with 40% or lower concentrations of alcohol,

facilitating bacterial growth instead of eliminating it.

For hand sanitizer that does work, an extra layer of defense is added, but not all viruses and bacteria can be

killed by hand sanitizer. A study of over 1000 individuals conducted by the University of Virginia found that rates

of rhinovirus infection are not significantly reduced by hand sanitizer use. Half of participants were controls, while

the other half used hand sanitizer every three hours. At the end of the study, sanitizer users had 42 (cont. on page 2)

Political Courage Elizabeth Hong

On June 26, 2013, Texas state senator Wendy Davis donned her

pink running shoes, strapped on a back brace, and stood

indefatigably in the senate chamber of the Texas legislature as

she launched a filibuster. The proposed bill that she opposed

proposed banning abortions at 20 weeks or more, and would

have closed 37 of Texas’s 42 abortion clinics, restricting access

to abortions for many women in rural areas. With overwhelming

support from both chambers of the Texas state legislature, the

bill was almost guaranteed to pass. (cont. on page 2)

More inside…

“Fascticanian Sniper” by

Demyan Patrîk on page 3

“The Truth About My

Insanity” Part 4 by Davis E.

Lindsey on page 5

(Yasuda, page 1) rhinovirus infections, and 12 flu

cases per 100 subjects, while the control group had 51

rhinovirus infections and 15 flu cases per 100 subjects.

This marginal difference provides little conclusive

evidence that hand sanitizer truly reduces illness rates.

Hand sanitizer is not only has little effect on

rhinovirus, but also ineffective at killing norovirus,

and C. Difficile, which takes 14,000 American lives

each year.

So are these just rare exceptions to the

common promise “Kills 99.9% of bacteria”? In a study

of eighth grade students in Hamilton, Ontario, only

46%-60% of microbes on students hands were

eliminated by sanitizers with the 99.9% promise. Why

such a gap? Manufacturers do not need to kill 99.9%

of all types of microbes nor disclose what microbes

they exterminate to be able to give consumers a 99.9%

promise. Thus, sanitizers can claim to be 99.9%

effective, even when the sample of bacterium they

were tested against represents only a fragment of

infectious bacterium. While the microbes that remain

are not necessarily more dangerous than those that

were eliminated, doctors concur that a higher number

of germs on your hands increases risk of infection. ⧫

(Hong, page 1) Nevertheless, Davis determinedly

began a passionate speech that would require her to

obey rules such as “no digressions, no food or water,

no leaning on a desk, no bathroom breaks” and to

speak for 13 hours. Her filibuster came to an end

after it was ruled that she had violated the senate’s

filibuster procedural rules for having her back brace

adjusted and speaking off topic. After nearly 11

hours, the bill failed to pass before the 12 a.m.

deadline and Davis became a national figure.

For Davis, her strong opposition to the bill

was driven by her conviction that women across

Texas would be significantly harmed if they lacked

access to the vital reproductive care. Her beliefs have

been shaped by her own personal experiences in

having to make that difficult decision that many

women face. In 1996, Davis chose to have an

abortion after “doctors said her baby girl would be

blind, deaf and in a permanent vegetative state if she

survived to term.” These are circumstances that no

mother would ever wish to face, but ultimately Davis

believes that women are given that choice to decide

for themselves with their families. With already 31

percent of women in Texas uninsured, the bill, SB 5,

would have effectively taken away that right to

choice for hundreds of thousands of women.

Almost overnight, her momentous filibuster

propelled Davis into the spotlight as a courageous

voice for women in something that “was bigger than

the bill itself”; however, her challenge was neither

easy to make nor without consequences. Nearly 46%

of Texas voters believe that abortion should never be

permitted, or should only be permissible in extreme

cases. Davis, who represented a minority district of

Texas, faced severe threats when her offices were

firebombed in what many believed was an attack that

stemmed from her support of Planned Parenthood.

After her surge in prominence due to her filibuster,

Davis launched her campaign to become governor of

Texas. Maintaining her views on abortion and a

woman’s right to choice, Davis would lose by a

resounding 20 points due to her association with the

abortion debate in a red state that remains starkly

divided over the subject. It’s a fight over an issue

that she’s gained national recognition for, but it’s

also one that’s cost her political career. Texas just

isn’t ready yet. ⧫

Author’s Note: All quotes spoken by Chip are taken from the actual movie and autobiography.

Demyan Patrîk

Before I begin this piece, I’d like to provide a little history about Fasctican. It’s a large country made up of different

people, languages, and customs. Bordering the United States, Western Europe, and Israel, Fasctican has engaged in

a number of righteous military crusades since the end of the eighteenth century, eventually making itself a leading

humanitarian power in the world.

Despite the state’s valiant record in foreign affairs, a small, noisy fraction of the country has always

opposed Fasctican’s actions, both domestic and international. And following the release of Fascticanian Sniper, a

film based on an autobiography by the same name that tells the story of Chip Liberty Bell Flying Freedom Eagle, a

thirty-year-old Fascticanian sniper (and patriot) who’s sent to some nation in the Middle West after the

Fascticanian government declares war on evil, a handful of Fascticanian citizens (most likely North Korean

sympathizers) have taken to the streets to protest a film they call “Fascticanian propaganda.”

So for the rest of this article, because my patriotism and dutiful allegiance to Fasctican requires me to,

myself and other freedom-lovers are going to disprove the myth that this film is propaganda.

First off, what is propaganda? The United States Holocaust Memorial Museum defines it as “biased

information designed to shape public opinion and behavior,” so does Fascticanian Sniper give “biased information

designed to shape public opinion and behavior”?

The film starts off with Chip lying on a roof as Fascticanian soldiers and tanks roll through an evil

neighborhood, clearing out evil house after evil house. Chips stares through his sniper lens, spotting a middle-aged

bad guy making a call on his cellphone and two terrorists—a woman and a boy—walking towards the Fascticanian

troops, a grenade in the boy’s hands. Before either of the pair can throw the grenade, Chip kills them both, and the

marine guarding Chip’s back happily remarks, “S*** yeah. Evil b****!”

The camera focuses back on Chip, and it’s clear he feels conflicted about what he just did. Once he makes it

back to the barracks, he talks about the maliciousness of the two dead terrorists with another Fascticanian soldier:

“It was evil, man. That was hate like I’ve never seen before.” The other soldier comforts Chip, reminds him he just

saved the lives of a million troops, and asks how he felt about his other kills. The patriot responds: “The other

ones? The other ones were righteous. Like God was up there blowing on my bullets.”

Of course, the commies criticized the film’s portrayal of the terrorists in the opening scenes.

Massif Bichai, an author for a left wing, arguably Stalinist blog wrote:

The opening scenes of the film are particularly disturbing. They show a young boy and a young woman

carrying a grenade towards Fascticanian soldiers. I asked myself, “Who are these people? Why are they doing what

they’re doing?” Unlike the Fascticanians in the film, these characters (along with the other locals in the film) aren’t

given a background story; we’re not given any information about their histories or motives. We’re simply

forced to conclude that they’re evil. (“S*** yeah. Evil b****!”) The only thing—as the film wants us to realize—

that motivates them to attack Fascticanian forces is the “wickedness” and “savagery” coursing through their

veins. This is a biased, pro-Fascticanian narrative; it’s propaganda. And the fact that this scene jumps directly from

a point of view shot of Chip staring down the scope of his rifle as he aims at the heart of young local woman to a

shot of Chip as a child staring down his rifle as he aims at the heart of deer blatantly reveals how the film wants

you to perceive the locals: as animals.

Bichai continues and writes:

Fascticanian Sniper attempted to legitimize an atrocious, imperialistic war; dehumanized the local

population, consolidating millions of unique individuals into a single group of irrational and malicious

“savages”; glorified the psychopathic and racist tendencies of a mass-murderer; avoided giving an accurate

background that told why Fasctican invaded this foreign nation; and it completely white-washed the actions of the

Fascticanian military in an immoral war against a dictator it had put in place just decades prior.

In response to Bichai’s comments, patriots have taken to Twitter to show why he’s wrong:

“@MassifBichai if u h8 Fasctican u can leave! We killed them so u cood write that Marxist filth!”

tweeted @Fascticanluver69.

@patriotprincest commented: “it doesnt matter if the film nvr mentioned WMDs or the name of dict8r the

war was supposed 2 b against or that it over exaggerated an enemy sniper.”

“so what if Chip called them savages??!?! If you kill you are savage #Leave #NOW!! @MassifBichai,”

tweeted @gunzgunzbangbang.

@bornagainChrist420 typed: “@MassifBichai only Nazis can make propaganda! Read a book, but no you

probably whack to Mao.”

Besides the portrayal of the two terrorists in the opening scenes, critics of the film lambasted the depiction

of other locals. Writer and marijuana smoker, Max Checkers, stated in an interview with a national news network:

There were only four non-Fascticanian children in the film. Two of them were portrayed as “terrorists.”

One of them had a father who was a “terrorist,” and a “terrorist” killed the other one. And the “terrorist” who killed

the boy was named “The Exterminator,” and “The Exterminator’s” hideout, as we later find out, was full of severed

heads and the hanging, naked body of a local he murdered. These portrayals perfectly supported the film’s narrative

that every single local was evil and needed Fascticanian troops to come in and save them.

Checkers also commented:

There were only three local women in the film. One of them was a terrorist, the other was married to a

“terrorist,” and the third had a son who was murdered—his head was drilled in half—by “The Exterminator”

after “The Exterminator” discovered the boy’s father had promised to give away the location of “The

Exterminator’s” leader to the Fascticanian military. How is this not propaganda? How is this not a biased

perspective supporting Fasctican’s actions? Why is every single local character depicted as a terrorist or associated

with one? This was not reality! This was not reality at all!

In response to Checker’s comments, Ronald Smith wrote in an article for freedomfighter.patriot.com:

The war in the Middle West was one for freedom. Our enemies, they hate our freedom, and those guys in

the West showed us just how much they despise the ideas of liberty and equality after they committed an atrocious

terrorist attack on Fascticanian soil. Sure their country wasn’t at all associated with that terrorist attack, and sure

they weren’t actually hiding any WMDs, and sure we supported the coup that put their dictator into power in the

first place, and sure our corporations profited greatly in this war and the same one that occurred a decade earlier,

and sure Fasctican has a history of invading nations that threaten our economic interests, and sure it seems

preposterous and racist to think a certain group of people could literally hate freedom, and sure we killed one

million of them, left four and a half million displaced, orphaned five million children, widowed two million

women, and left the country with significantly higher rates of cancer and birth defects than the Japanese after we

nuked Hiroshima and Nagasaki, but none of that matters! Absolutely none of that matters! All that matters is that

Fascticanian Sniper revealed the truth: every single woman and child in the Middle West cried for our help but

hated us at the exact same time.

Asked to respond to Smith’s statement, Checkers just stared at the copy of the article I handed him and

blinked. He asked me if Smith was joking, but I told that commie: “No!” and walked away triumphantly, stopping

beneath the doorframe of his apartment to shoot him some finger pistols, whistle the first two verses of the national

anthem, then flip him the bird as I shouted: “Suck my Fasctican butt,” which flew melodiously across his home,

like a virgin bald eagle with the Fasctican flag taped to her talons flying through a summer breeze.

Another issue critics took with the film was its “complete fabrication of the history before and during the war of

Fascticanian imperialism,” wrote author and alleged agnostic, Michelle Freedman:

As Chip trains to be a sniper, he witnesses al-Kayduh’s [a terrorist organization] bombing of a Fascticanian

embassy as well as al-Kayduh’s hijacking of four Fascticanian planes and the destruction of the two towers, and

once Chip is deployed, he’s immediately told his duty is to hunt down one of the leaders of al-Kayduh who’s

recruiting locals to become fighters for his terrorist organization. Not once did the film mention the “real” reasons

we went to war: the weapons of mass destruction and the dictator who was supposedly arming terrorist

organizations with them! No, Fascticanian Sniper wants us to believe we invaded that country to fight al-Kayduh,

and the only way the Fascticanian public could be saved from evil was when Chip Liberty Bell Flying Freedom

Eagle killed a sniper named Mufasa who was supposedly terrorizing helpless Fascticanian soldiers, even though the

real Chip Eagle only once mentioned the enemy sniper in his autobiography! And don’t even get me started on

Chip’s incessant “savage” crap! This film is horrific, fascistic Fascticanian propaganda!

Lindsey Simmons, an activist who allegedly marched in a gay rights parade once, appeared to despise Chip

as well:

Here we have a guy who in the film is made out to be this struggling, yet righteous freedom fighter. After he

kills the woman and boy in the opening scenes, it seems like he’s a bit unsure and conflicted about what he’s doing.

But the portrayal of Chip was completely out of touch with reality. He was a killer, a bigot, and a fascist. In his

autobiography, after he murders a local woman he writes about how his shots saved Fascticanians “whose

lives were clearly worth more than that woman’s twisted soul.” What did Chip think he was fighting? “Savage,

despicable evil. That’s what we were fighting.” Does Chip wish he had killed more “terrorists”? He writes, “I only

wish I had killed more.” So clearly the film doesn’t honestly portray Chip’s own savagery, but it makes a point of

showing the brutality and “evil” of the locals.

In response to both Freedman and Simmons’ comments and incited by the film itself, a mob of angry

Fascticanians decided to stage a protest in front of both of the writers’ houses. Beginning on Sunday morning and

lasting all the way till Tuesday afternoon, the crowd chanted: “The DPRK is that way!” and “It’s open season on

savages!” as Lee Graywood’s “I’m Proud to be a Fasctican” played in the background. (It had to be turned off after

a couple minutes once some of the protestors fell to the ground in fits of patriotic passion as Fasctican-flag colored

foam seeped from their mouths.)

So is Fascticanian Sniper propaganda? The Eco-Trotskyist Femi-Nazi terrorist-loving writers cited in this

article made some interesting points about the shallow and dehumanizing portrayal of the Mid Westerners, the

association of each local character with terrorism of some kind, the inaccurate retelling of history leading up to and

during the war to deceitfully justify actions taken by the Fascticanian military, the white-washing of Chip Eagle’s

racist and fascistic disposition, and the fact that some Fascticanians were incited by the film to make threatening

remarks towards a certain group of people. But I wouldn’t say this film is propaganda. No, I would say it’s simply

Fascticanian. ⧫

The Truth About My Insanity Part 4 - Zachary Tahn

Davis E. Lindsey

Walking for hours on end, it seemed to Elijah that he had barely moved an inch. As he turned around, he saw the

ship still lay where it was, broken and rusted, only a few feet away. Yuen was boiling and all Elijah wanted was to

find some shade. Up above, birds of an exotic species soared leisurely, squawking at Elijah’s gestures. His clothes

were tattered, torn, and encrusted with blood. Towering mounds of red sand dominated the landscape. Small green

plants dotted the horizon, “cacti” as Elijah called them back on earth. Here they went by the name of “lectiticus,” or

“lecti,” which in the old language meant “juicy,” but to Elijah, meant salvation.

He laughed at that word “salvation.” It like only yesterday when he had to fight his own desires. It felt like

only yesterday when he traveled back to earth to save it. It felt like only yesterday when he had to choose between

the dangerous life of Elijah, and the sheltered life of Davis. It felt like only yesterday when he made his decision.

Elijah reapproached the ship, close enough to stroke it’s searing hot surface. Quickly, Elijah to retracted his

hand quickly, but he could not seem to leave the area. In the distance, a faint laughter beckoned. It laughed again,

this time it was a rich and loud laugh that traveled far off and echoed a slightly distorted call, “HaaAaHaaaAAa . . .”

before fading.

Off in the distance a silhouette emerged. Elijah’s heart raced. Was this his salvation? Surely it was, surely the

man or woman or whatever creature lurked over there wouldn’t just leave him here to die. He began to wave his

hands in the air so fast it made them ache, but he dared stop. Loud shouts emanated across the land, making him

certain the creature heard him.

He waited . . . and waited.

The silhouette still did not approach. As Elijah gazed into the distance, the small figure eventually disappeared along

the horizon, gone as it had come. Elijah’s heart sank, what was he going to do? What if he starved? What if the

vicious animals took his life? Elijah did not know and tried not to imagine his body being gnawed apart by large

ferocious cats. Instead he sat down on the sand and thought. Elijah thought all day and night, and in the morning the

worst was to come.

* * *

The silhouette- who it was I still never did discover. For hours that night, I questioned who it might be, and

most importantly what it was doing. This and a few others were the only thoughts that seeped into my mind in the

horrid cell.

Yes, I still linger in this cell. Patrick hasn’t shown his face since Sivad’s visit. Hopefully we can get this

started soon; I've come to hate this planet, and its inhabitants.

Suddenly it came to me: the light swords. What have I been doing this entire time!? I was supposed to be

testing the darn swords! I need to make sure they work! How could I possibly have forgotten something so important

. . . maybe it was the crazy side of me popping up to tell me, “No no no . . . don’t think about the important, instead

look at this unimportant rock.” Now came the second problem, though. The sheriff was sitting in his chair, right in

front of my cell, sharpening his knife.

The air suddenly turned a harsh cold as light began to collect around my hand. But why? I had not

summoned my sword! What if he sees a bloody sword in my hand . . . I wonder what he would do…

A large flash of light and there it stood, a brilliant sky blue sword. It was about as long as the length from my

foot to my waist. Its hilt was just recently polished. I tried to de-summon it as quickly as I could but-

“Wot is that?”

The sheriff had looked at me, obviously startled by the blinding light, and of course noticed the brilliant blue

that was glowing as obviously as a neon sign in pitch black dark. He looked dumbfounded and did not move. It was

too late, he had seen too much.

With a swift motion, I slashed through all the bars of my cage and kicked my way through. I stood in front of

the man, my sword was pointed at his chest. A large burst of bravery shot through my body and my sword grew

even brighter, almost blinding.

The sheriff looked at my sword, then to me, then to my sword. An unexpected smile arose on his face. A

hearty giggle erupted from his throat. He stood up with great swiftness and held out his hand.

I swung my sword at him, expecting the normal watery noise that accompanies a beheading, but instead

came a large “CLANK” and my blade recoiled with great force, almost knocking me down. The wind said, “Screw

this” and flew from my lungs, leaving a sickening feeling in my stomach.

I looked up to see what had deflected my blade, and saw the sheriff with his hand held out, and in it held a

purple light sword. Aye it was purple! It was as purple as a shiny Keyogre, and its brightness was nearly blinding. I

had to shield my eyes to keep a burning sensation from reaching my corneas. The light died almost as fast as it

came, and within seconds I was on my feet again.

"Back in," the sheriff said, he gestured to the cell with his sword. "Back in if yah know whats good for ye."

He seemed to not notice the bars which I had just oh so gracefully put across the room.

I threw another slash at him and he blocked it yet again. I sent a stab aiming for his gut but he flew to the

side faster than the greatest of speeding geckos and sent back a powerful swing, which cut deeply into my side. I

gave a hearty yell and grabbed at my side, hoping to stop the bleeding. In one last attempt to not be thrown back

into that ruddy cell I threw my sword and the aim was true. The sword went flying and went clean through the

sheriff’s leg.

We both fell on the floor with a thud what followed next was the longest ten minutes of my life. I was on the

floor clutching my wound and the sheriff was doing the same. The image of the skinny crippler from Kinglea

seeped into my mind and oddly enough I began to giggle.

“Oy! Are you havin a giggle ya brat?” the sheriff yelled at me. “I’ve honestly had enough of your

foolishness…”

“You?” I said.

“Wot?”

“You said...’you,’ sheriff.” I said.

“W-well so did you!”

I looked at him and felt a wave of pity fall over me. He looked so weak now, so innocent. Blood seeped out of

his leg and was coming my way. Fear overcame his eyes, like someone had just revealed a secret he intended to

keep hidden.

“You aren’t from here, are you sheriff?” I asked.

He looked me in the eye. I could see a fire build in it and almost laughed at the thought of him using his last

breath to try and kill me so injured. It wasn’t as much this idea that entertained me, as much as it was the thought

of him using his last breath to try to strangle the life out of a person who pissed him off.

“No,” he said. “Titanian.”

“You sounded as much.” I said, rolling onto my back with my face to the ceiling. It felt great to finally

have my normal accent back again. Finally no more “ye’s” and “yah’s.”

“Twas the accent, so it was.” I said.

The sheriff rolled onto his back as well.

“And where are you from, lad?” he asked as calmly as though his leg wasn’t bleeding like hell. “Where

were you born? I’ve been to every planet in this system from Titanus to Darihkahtose and never heard an accent

like the one you wield.”

“Even Depribelle?”

“Nah, as a matter o’ fact.” he said. “but you don’t dress like one of those scum bags. When I saw you by the

lake to arrest you, you wore some strange cloth.” He looked at me. “As a matter o’ fact, it’s over there in the

cupboard if you wanna change, I know how hot those outfits can get. I used to get a kick out of watching the

holden wear those . . .”

“Earth.” I said.

The sheriff went silent. I heard him turn to look at me and I did the same to him. “Earth?” He asked. “ What

the bloody hell is that?”

Another laugh found its way out of my mouth. I weakly turned toward the sheriff and said "You know

exactly what Earth is, sheriff. Don’t you bloody lie to me." Just then another question struck me. I turned toward

the sheriff to see that he had almost gone. There was nothing could save him now. If I needed to ask this second

was the time to do it.

"W. . . Who are you?" I asked. My heart was pounding. Was it him? Was this the keeper of the piece? ⧫

The Bolt Executive Staff 2014-2015

Emi Yasuda: Editor-In-Chief

Meghan Jacinto: Secretary

Leslie Young: Layout Manager

Brett Austin: Financial Representative

Joaquin Dorantes: Site Coordinator

Elizabeth Hong: Assistant Editor

Want to write about what interests you?

Join The Bolt! Meetings are Tuesdays in Room 129

Be sure to check out the Bolt website at

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JAN/FEB SUDOKU! SOLUTIONS (DEC ISSUE)

Song Picks of the Month

“New Year” - Beach House

“Sugar” - Maroon 5

“Thinking Out Loud” - Ed Sheeran

“Take Me To Church” - Hozier

Movie Pick of the Month

Selma

(2015) Director: Ava DuVernay

Notable Actors/Actresses: Oprah Winfrey, David

Oyelowo, Carmen Ejogo

In Selma, an Alabama city becomes the

battleground in Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and his

follower's fight for suffrage. This breathtaking film

chronicles the series of events that culminate in the

passage of the Voting Rights Act of 1965, one of the

greatest civil rights victories in American history.

Book Pick of the Month

A Clockwork

Orange (1962)

Anthony Burgess

Genre: Science Fiction, Satire, Dystopian Fiction

This novella centers upon Alex, a quick-witted

fifteen-year-old anti-hero and his experiences

in a futuristic England's violent sub-culture. Alex

narrates his cruel gang exploits, his experiences

in prison, and the government's efforts to

reform him.