Student Government: the Prom Committee of College

By Jeffrey Carl

Jeffrey Carl UR Column
University of Richmond Collegian, February 24 1994

It occurs to me now that topical humor from college campuses nearly 30 years ago does not age well. I’m sure it was absolutely hilarious at the time, though. Enjoy!

Editor’s Note: It’s not our column.  We weren’t there.  Nobody saw us.  You can’t prove anything.

We here at The Collegian pride ourselves on being responsive to our readers.  Hahahahahaha.

Certain aspects of life should be taken very seriously.  Long lines at The Pier, congressional subpoenas and large bleeding head wounds should all be taken seriously.  On the other hand, it’s very important to know what aspects of life not to take all-that-terribly seriously.  For example: violence on television, threats from the IFC and anything connected to the student government.  

Do you remember the real power brokers in your high school?  The ones who cut deals with the administration and lived secret lives of perks and privileges undreamed of by the other students?  The people who were on both the Mural Committee and the Prom Refreshments Committee at the same time?

Well, it turns out that we all may have been living  a lie.  There have been some studies done, and it has only recently been discovered that people in student governments don’t actually do anything important.

Some people may disagree with this.  In fact, I had an argument with my Significant Other recently about whether or not our SGA did anything.  An incurable optimist, Jenny is firmly convinced that the representative form of government works, even though neither of the suggestions she made about putting coffee straws in The Pier has been adopted.  I, however, am significantly more nasty, bitter and cynical.

This is certainly not a criticism born out of jealousy or envy; all that journalists really want out of life is Truth, Justice and a case of Wild Turkey.  But we have to ask, what does the Richmond or Westhampton College Student Government Association really do?

I mean, what have they done for me lately?  Have they: (circle yes or no)

Y N  Moved really cute girls into my hall?

Y N  Cancelled my 2:40 MWF Russian class?

Y N  Lowered the price of beer?

Nope.  Then as far as I’m concerned, they ain’t done nuthin’.

But what can the Richmond College SGA President really do?  It’s not like they have a real position of power and influence, like being one of the two Collegian assistant news editors.  They should get to do real cool stuff.  For example, it would be really cool if the RCSGA President got:

• Ability to telepathically communicate with the ducks

• Ability to haze Richmond College Dean Richard Mateer

• Power to dispatch U.S. troops without consulting Congress

• Special president’s 5 percent discount on kegs at Rite-Aid

• Wise, singing cricket with top hat to sit on shoulder and serve as conscience

• Magic wand that gives 4.0 GPAs

• Cape and costume and cool name like “RCSGA President Man,” and super ability to call on campus dogs to fight crime

• Power to create special Collegian Swimsuit Edition

• Right to two entrees at once in D-Hall

I mean, that would be cool.

What about the issues?  Are people taking them to heart and engaging in lively debate on them?  The most incisive criticism I heard about anybody’s platform and political ideology was, “This guy’s a tool.”

There seem to be a few frightening similarities between the platforms of everyone who ran for the senates/presidencies/assorted positions of moderate responsibility.  Oddly enough, they all seem to:

• Be for things which are good

• Be firmly against things which are not good

• Vigorously support several things 

• Fight against several other things

• Hang around the house Friday night, waiting for students to drop by with suggestions and comments

Now this is all well and good, but I’m personally looking for a candidate who will do cool stuff like:

• Get Aerosmith Girl to come here

• Promise $5 for everybody who voted for them

• Claim that they aren’t the president, it’s their little mannequin pal “Mr. Kooky” who’s running things

• Create a special Collegian Columnist bar tab at Soble’s

• Change all CAB Karaoke Nights to Lambada Nights.

• Promise to, if elected, run around campus naked, screaming “I’m going to Disneyland!”

To be fair, there are occasionally worthwhile things done by a student government, through no fault of their own.  But my point is that they aren’t so much good or bad, as really not that big a deal.

Also I promised to embarrass my friend Mom by endorsing her.  So thank those people who have been good enough to throw their hat in the ring so the rest of us can make fun of them.  

Well, it seems that we’re out of space, so please send comments and small ticking packages to:

LaRouche/Steinbrenner in ‘96 Headquarters

c/o The Collegian

Tile Harebrains Commons, 13th Floor

University of Alberta, 8675309

The “Choosing-the-Right-Major-for-You” Questionnaire

By Jeffrey Carl

Jeffrey Carl UR Column
University of Richmond Collegian, February 17 1994

It occurs to me now that topical humor from college campuses nearly 30 years ago does not age well. I’m sure it was absolutely hilarious at the time, though. Enjoy!

Editor’s Note: Look, we give up. Let’s just let it go at that.  We don’t take any responsibility for anything contained herein, etc., and in fact we don’t even want to hear about it.  We don’t writes ’em, we just prints ’em.  

We here at The Collegian pride ourselves on being responsive to our readers.  So we thought we’d disregard all the mail we’ve received lately and waste space answering a question that nobody actually asked.

Q: What should my major be?

A: Well, that’s a good question.  It used to be that the answer would relate to each individual’s response to “What do I want to be when I grow up?”  Today, however, the world is a more sophisticated place and such simplistic queries have fallen by the wayside.  Now the proper question to ask is, “What can I take that will be least likely to interfere with my being able to watch the Simpsons every Thursday night?”

  To help answer that, and to generate cheap laughs, let’s take a quick look at the scope of majors available here at the University of Richmond.  Answer the questions “yes” if it applies to you, “no” if it doesn’t.  Score one point for each “yes” answer.  Then forget how many points you have because they really don’t matter anyway.

JEPSON SCHOOL OF LEADERSHIP STUDIES APTITUDE QUESTIONNAIRE:

Y  N  1. My friends usually let me decide where we all go for pizza.

SCIENCE APTITUDE QUESTIONNAIRE:

Y  N  1. I don’t like this thing they call “free time.”

Y  N  2. I want to have my mail delivered right to the Science Library.

Y  N  3. I thrive on stress.  In fact, I’m so keyed up now I could eat bricks.

MATH/COMPUTER SCIENCE APTITUDE QUESTIONNAIRE:

Y  N  1. I feel confident about my times tables.

Y  N  2. You can meet some really interesting and exciting people on the Star Trek bulletin board on the URvax.

Y  N  3. I think Matthew Broderick was screwed over by the Oscars for “WarGames.”

Well, liberal arts it is.  Right away, we can exclude language majors, because it is extremely difficult to complete a language major without taking language classes.  And those are a no-no.  So, let’s check out the rest:  

HISTORY APTITUDE QUESTIONNAIRE:

Y  N  1. I enjoy reading books about dead people.

ENGLISH APTITUDE QUESTIONNAIRE:

Y  N  1. I’m worried about how the English language is doing.  Maybe I should keep it under observation for a few more years.

Y  N  2. On a nothing day, curling up with a big book of Chaucer just makes it all seem worthwhile.

Y  N  3. I like “unemployment.”

Y  N  4. I want to teach English in high school somewhere.

Y  N  5. I want to teach English in college somewhere.

Y  N  6. I want to go to grad school and avoid the real world indefinitely, so the fact that everybody already speaks English here doesn’t bother me.

Well, the “grad school” thing sounds okay, because you could stay and see Dave every Wednesday night for an additional two or three years.  But there’s always the chance that he’ll get big and move away, so let’s put that one on the back burner.

THEATER APTITUDE QUESTIONNAIRE:

Y  N  1. I feel “special.”

Y  N  2. I look good in all black.

Y  N  3. I plan on doing lots of revivals of “The Fantasticks” at the Lake Woebegone Community Theater/Craft Fair.

ART APTITUDE QUESTIONNAIRE:

Y  N  1. I feel “special.”

Y  N  2. I look good in all-black.

Y  N  3. I plan on doing lots of drugs.

MUSIC APTITUDE QUESTIONAIRRE:

Y  N  1. I feel “special.”

Y  N  2. I look good in cheap suits.

Y  N  3. I plan on doing lots of time in jail on drug and morals charges.

PSYCHOLOGY APTITUDE QUESTIONNAIRE:

Y  N  1. I’m out of it enough that I haven’t heard all the horror stories about Intro to Psych.

 Besides, psychology experiments aren’t anything like you’d hope they would be, like smoking dried toad skins and discussing whether rocks can dream.  Next? 

WOMEN’S STUDIES!

Yes, that’s right.  Just consider the benefits.  Women’s Studies implies that at the end of the course, you’ll understand them.  That is certainly something men could use … and quite a few women as well.  For guys, even if you don’t end up understanding them, you’re almost guaranteed there will be lots of girls in your classes all the time.  For women, you already have a leg up on the studying — hell, if they opened a “Jeff Carl Studies” program here, I’d sign up faster than a greased schnauzer.  So, for women, being a Women’s Studies major is like being born with Cliffs Notes. 

Well, it seems we are out of time. So until next time, good night and God bless.


Lawyers: They’re Not Just for Breakfast Anymore

By Jeffrey Carl

Jeffrey Carl UR Column
University of Richmond Collegian, February 3, 1994

It occurs to me now that topical humor from college campuses nearly 30 years ago does not age well. I’m sure it was absolutely hilarious at the time, though. Enjoy!

Editor’s Note: Please don’t sue us.

We here at The Collegian pride ourselves on being responsive to our readers.  Well … actually, we don’t, but it sounds better if we say we do.  But … lucky you! … we have space to kill, so it’s time to dip back into the reader mailbag, throw away the pizza crusts and empty Rumple Minze bottles, and pull out a lucky letter …

Dear Collegian,

How many undergraduate students realize there is an actual law school on campus?  Do we appreciate the hundreds of future lawyers that pass by us daily?  Can’t we do something special to recognize them for their achievement, like pillaging and burning the law school to the ground, then sowing the earth with salt?

Just wondering.

Best Wishes,

A Concerned Philosophy Major

Well, that certainly is an interesting suggestion.  While The Collegian cannot officially support any such idea (The Collegian as a matter of policy does not support either armed rioting or calling pants “slacks”), the lawyer-larvae consideration is still an interesting point for discussion.  Should we be happy to have these future Perry Masons, William Kunstlers, and “L. A. Law” stunt doubles among us on campus?  Or should we call them bloodsuckers-in-training and order a ROTC tactical strike to wipe them out?  

Well, there are no easy answers in life.  On one hand, lawyer-bashing has become all the rage lately, and you don’t want to look like you’re just jumping on the band wagon by hunting them with large-caliber weapons.  Furthermore, if you leave any of them alive, they could sue you.

On the other hand, the only other professions that have even remotely the same reputation for being asinine full-time are Department of Motor Vehicles workers and journalists.  Yeesh.  This should give you an idea of the urgency for these things to be wiped out while they are still young and vulnerable.  In addition, lawyers are … well, lawyers.  Since there are so many of them, they’d probably just overbreed and starve themselves.  So it’s quite possible we’d be doing them a favor by getting it over with humanely by fumigating.

In fact, this would free up the building currently being used as the law school for other, more beneficial purposes:

•World’s largest Taco Bell franchise

•Special “American Gladiators”-style arena

•Squirrel refuge/petting zoo

•Sports bar

•“Six Flags Over The Ticket Lady” amusement park

•Super-cool giant maze with a princess and a half-bull half-man in the middle

•Mulch repository

•Fill hallways with shaving cream – charge people $2.50 to run through

•P. Caputo School of Followership

•O’Brien-Grossman Memorial Eternal Flame/Bar-B-Que Pit

•New University of Richmond red light district/sorority housing

•Indoor golf course — played with racquetballs

•Cheap motel for kicked-out roommates

•Fill with bricks, make triangular, place curse on, use as enormous tomb for university president

•Palestinian homeland

I notice that this discussion has been notably short on praise of the positive aspects of our future legal eagles.  And there are a lot of them.

There are.

There sure are lots.

I mean, more than you can shake a stick at.

Yep.

Youuu betcha.

I’ll bet we can list some of those positive aspects, like … like …

•Well, they’re not lawyers yet.

•Some of them have cool cars

•They’re almost all over 21, so they could buy you beer if you aren’t

and lots and lots and lots of other stuff too that, darn it, we just don’t have space to print.  Now, to be fair, this probably isn’t a fully objective summary.  Are all lawyers slime?  Certainly not!  Are most lawyers slime?  Well, yes.  So to be brief, the jury is still out on the idea and the whole question shouldn’t be considered an open-and-shut case.  Perhaps the wanton destruction of our future lawyers would set a dangerous precedent for anarchy — the next thing you know, they’d be looting the computer labs and guillotining the biology faculty, everybody would be called “Citizen,” the National Guard would come in and shoot everybody, it would be “Breakfast at Dinner” night at the D-Hall again, and they’d almost certainly close the Row that weekend.  Not a pretty picture, is it?

I didn’t think so.

Well, it seems that we’re out of space, so until next time, keep those cards and letters coming to:

Over-the-Cliffnotes Legal Defense Fund/Erik Estrada for Senate

R.C. Box #465

University of Richmond, WI. 90210