End of the Column as We Know it

By Jeffrey Carl

Jeffrey Carl UR Column
University of Richmond Collegian, April 6 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: Next week, this strip will be replaced by something wholesome like “Beetle Bailey.”  We promise.

We here at The Collegian pride ourselves on being responsive to our readers.  And we’d like to thank all six of you for reading us this year.

This column is the final installment in the “Over-the-Cliff Notes” series. This issue marks the end of this column’s tireless crusade against crime, injustice, the vile forces of International Communism, and people who drive too slow.  It has been a kooky year, but good writers know when it’s time to call it quits.  And then they pass this information along to bad writers like me.

You may ask yourself, “But why?  What has led this man to abandon the vast, sprawling comic empire he has created?”  You may say to yourself, “This is not my beautiful house!”  You may say to yourself, “My God!  What have I done?”

You may also stop quoting Talking Heads songs and seriously wonder why this is the end of the line.  A sign from the heavens came to me: earlier this week, I played in a softball game against the Law School team.  And they kicked our asses.  Now, it’s one thing to have your softball team get crushed like a chihuahua in a sheet-metal press.  It’s another thing entirely to get your butt kicked by people who you recommended  in the newspaper to be executed by fumigation.  This was  like a sign from God, except it was smaller and it didn’t appear on flaming stone tablets.

Furthermore, I’m getting old and cranky.  I’m just not the zany youngster I used to be.  I’m watching “Matlock,” playing shuffleboard, and showing people pictures of my grandchildren.  And I don’t even have grandchildren.  I just show people these blank little pieces of paper, and tell them my grandchildren are albinos.

So I have decided to leave this business to the youngsters.  As a parting salvo, I thought I’d include some simple directions on how to write a column yourself.  Go ahead: it’s fun, it’s easy, and it will keep the Op/Ed section editor from tearing his hair out and drinking rubbing alcohol like he does whenever I turn in a column.

The supplies for column-writing are simple:

1. Notepad and pencils

2. Small Macintosh computer

3. Pent-up angst or other mental disorder

4. Two or three bottles of Old Crow or Wild Turkey

Perhaps you’re asking, “But do I have what it takes to be a writer?”  Well, let me tell you a little story that had a lot to do with my deciding to become a columnist.

I was working at my summer job as an intern for the People’s Revolutionary Marxist Army of Angola, answering the phone, taking dictation, and organizing massive air strikes against reactionary government outposts in the mountains.  I was in the office one morning when we were attacked by a government tank battallion and overwhelmed.  I barely managed to escape into the jungle, with only a rifle, several food rations, a staple gun, and a bottle of Scotch which I had been using as a paperweight.

Fortunately, I had received survival training during my days on “American Gladiators”: I knew 50 ways to kill a man with a straw, and another three or four with the wrapper.  I lived off the fat of the land: killing lions with my bare hands, bathing in waterfalls, and flossing with the staples.  But at last I realized that I was going to be late for my racquetball game with the Pope that Thursday and I was running low on Scotch, so I was forced to try to make a break for civilization.

I made my way through the outback to a small roadside café near Zimbabwe with attractive decor and reasonable prices.  I was going to ask if I could use the phone when I saw her.  She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, and when our eyes met I knew that it was meant to happen.  Her lithe, gorgeous figure sashayed over to me from across the room while my heart fluttered like a butterfly trapped in a Pop-O-Matic bubble in the board game “Trouble.”  She stood in front me there and whispered softly the three words that would change my life: “Don’t touch me.”  Then she walked away.

I became inconsolably depressed and decided to commit suicide.  I grabbed a gun, put it in my mouth, and pulled the trigger.  Unfortunately, it was a BB gun and I only gave myself horribly bruised tonsils.  I turned wildly and grabbed another gun and repeated the process, but it was a water gun and I nearly drowned myself.  Two tries later, after a suction-dart gun and a lighter shaped like a revolver, I decided it was no use.  I would just have to pick up the pieces of my life and go on.

Hmm … I guess that actually really didn’t have anything to do with writing columns.  Oops.

Anyway, the point is that you don’t have to have writing skill, talent, an opinion, or even a point to write columns.  And look – somebody’s gotta do it.  So why not you?  To get you started, here’s some sample topics:

•  “Sex: it’s not just for breakfast anymore”

• “‘Spider Web’ and Satan-worshipping: the hidden link,” or “Pray for Registration”

• “Boy, are my bowels acting up lately”

• “Shouldn’t we have a third side of campus for transvestites?”

• “We should have a Hitler Studies program”

• “Campus ducks: the hidden heroes of UR”

• “We should have a Fabio Studies program”

• “Terrorism: frankly, it’s just tacky”

• “I have a grudge against the Greek system so I take it even more seriously than Greeks do”

Oops.  Sorry.  That’s been taken already.

• “Montel Williams: he’s one damn fine American and I want him to bear my children”

• “Have you had your prostate examined recently?”

• “We should have a Gilligan Studies program here.”

• “Earthquakes: what’s up with that?”

• “Beer: I like it.”

Well, that’s all the time we have for this week.  Write some columns of your own and make this world a better place, or at least a stranger one.  Good night, and good riddance.

Catch the New Wave in Standardized Testing

By Jeffrey Carl

Jeffrey Carl UR Column
University of Richmond Collegian, March 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: Yeah.  Sure.  Whatever.

We here at The Collegian pride ourselves on being responsive to our readers.  We also wear big floppy shoes,  and have green scales and three noses.  The point of all this being that we are committed to bringing the valuable Truth to our readers in a timely fashion and all that crap.

This year, the Scholastic Aptitude Test, the SAT taken by you and everybody else in the room except for that guy over there with the blue backpack who snuck in by saying he was an exchange student from Venus, has been revised, with long-form answers and essays.  The Collegian has managed to get some test examples and presents them here as a fun test to see if you could do as well on the new SAT as you did on the old one.  Answers are at the bottom.  Cheating may be reported to the Honor Council.  Number Two pencils only.  Feel free to vomit afterwards.

1994 SKELLASTIC APTITUDE TEST

PART ONE: VOCABULARY

Relationships

1. Fish is to water as golf club is to:

a. course   b. smog monster   c. dung beetle   d. Jason Roop

2. Engine is to train as motor is to:

a. minty-fresh breath   b. Aerosmith Girl   c. automobile   d. small dogs

Antonyms

1. Crunchy

a. superfluous   b. supercalafragilisticexpealadocious   c. antidisestablismentarian   d. bong

2. Excruciating

a. kooky   b. fudge-a-licious   c. ‘Much better than Cats’   d. worse than the last two seasons of ‘Saturday Night Live’

PART TWO: HISTORY

Modern History

1. When Greg wiped out in the surfing competition in Hawaii, it was because

a. he had a small forbidden Tiki doll   b. Marsha had given him bad acid   c. he was troubled over his ‘fling’ with Alice   d. perhaps the Holy Spirit had convicted him of sin

2. When Kimberly’s hair turned green right before the big banquet, it was because

a. Willis and Arnold were trying to poison her   b. she was going ‘punk’ and was about to tell Mr. Drummond about her lover in the Black Panthers   c. she washed her hair in acid rain   d. she was troubled over her ‘fling’ with Mrs. Garrett from ‘Facts of Life’

Ancient History

1. When Lucy and Ethel got the job at the chocolate factory, they got in trouble because

a. it’s just kooky how things work out like that   b. Ethel was distributing Communist propaganda on her lunch break   c. the conveyor was moving too fast   d. Lucy was stoned off her ass

2. When Roadrunner got away, Wile E. Coyote would always

a. break down and cry tears of rage and sorrow   b. write a letter to the editor protesting it   c. fall off a cliff   d. go on a killing spree in McDonald’s

PART THREE: READING COMPREHENSION

Story #1

Lord Baden-Powell formed the Boy Scouts in 1892, wanting to give the youth of England a way to explore the outdoors.  By 1900, more than 6,000 young men had joined the Scouts and were merrily exploring the countryside and occasionally going “wilding.”  American-born Daisy Low met Baden-Powell in 1911 and decided to form the Girl Guides, modeled almost precisely after the Boy Scouts except for not giving out “Putting out a fire by peeing on it” merit badges.

1. Who founded the Boy Scouts?

2. When was the Girl Guides founded?

3. Who founded Pedophiles Anonymous?

4. Who was the last person to hit .400 in the American League?

5. Is it ‘liquor before beer, never fear’ or ‘beer before booze, never lose?’

Story #2

Trevor grabbed Buffy and held her sweaty, firm body against his.  They played tonsil-tag with wild abandon as their bared flesh pressed together.  Her eyes darted wildy as he exposed his pulsating masculinity and she shuddered in delight.  She ripped off his torn “Hulkamania” T-shirt and whispered playfully her desire to share in his man-seed.

1. What were Trevor and Buffy doing?

2. What year was the Boy Scouts founded?

3. What issue of “Penthouse Forum” did this appear in?

4. What time do the liquor stores around here close?

5. Did you know that attaching a $20 bill to this test with a paper clip will get you into college?

PART FOUR: ESSAY

Answer in complete sentences.  Be specific: use specific examples.  Penmanship counts.

Question #1: 90210ax2 + 2001b3xy + 666c6b2x = √867-5309 (Jenny) – 3 shiny bottlecaps

Question #2: What year was the Boy Scouts founded in?

PART FIVE: EXTRA CREDIT

1. Have you ever been in a Turkish prison?

ANSWERS:

Look, if you’ve read this far, you’ve got way too much free time.  Get a life.  Answers?  Look, if you don’t know, I’m not going to tell you.  Suck it up.

Flossing and Star Trek: Giving Activism a Real Purpose

By Jeffrey Carl

Jeffrey Carl UR Column
University of Richmond Collegian, March 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: O, that this too too solid columnist would melt, thaw and resolve himself not to write columns anymore.   

We here at The Collegian pride ourselves on being responsive to our readers.  We’re not sure if anybody actually reads this, but if they did, we would be responsive to them.

Well, actually, I don’t think anybody does read this.  The Collegian gets nasty letters and occasional lawsuit threats for small factual inaccuracies, misspelling of names, and mild criticisms of the Honor Code.  So far, in this column, I have suggested that:

• The Intervarsity Christian Fellowship hold a “fish and loaves” picnic rush event

• Destro, Major Bludd and Cobra Commander were formerly residing in Lora Robins

• Student government presidents should be used for doorstops or paperweights

• The Collegian is actually written by clever trained seals

• “Jail ‘n’ Bail” be changed to a “Turkish Prison Jail ‘n’ Bail”

• The law school be razed to the ground and the earth sown with salt

And I haven’t gotten so much as a small note on pretty stationery saying, “go to Hell.”  All of this leads me to conclude that nobody has really been reading this, or at very best they’re just reading the Over-the-Cliffnotes Cliffs Notes guide they sell in the bookstore.

Well, in that case, what do I have to worry about?  Let me just spin the “Wheel of Offensiveness” I have sitting here by my Macintosh and select this week’s unsuspecting and unreading victim.  And the lucky winner is … student activists.

Now, the activist spirit is a wonderful thing.  But it seems that the choices of what to activate about are so dull and clichéd.  Recycling.  Whoo-doggies is that fascinating.  The environment.  I don’t know about you, but I was considering working for global warming this winter.  Interracial understanding and education.  Nice, but still boring.  All these things are so universally agreeable and warm and fuzzy and boring like National Public Radio after “Car Talk.”  Nothing even as exciting as putting daisies in ROTC gun barrels.

So why don’t people get out for something really useful and exciting? Consider:

• Establishing a campus “Hooked on Phonics” club

• Standing on Boatwright Beach and telling everybody they’re going to Heaven, so don’t worry about it

• Organizing an Arabic-letter social society

• Sit-ins to protest the lack of “Welcome Back, Kotter” and “Misfits of Science” reruns on local TV

• Running around campus, randomly collecting blood from people

• Supporting the death penalty for people who drive too slow

• Letter-writing campaigns to change Boatwright Library, damn it, back to the Dewey Decimal System!

• Circulating petitions protesting the lack of an “Atlasphere” arena in the weight room

• Hanging posters proclaiming, “Pray for Revival of Spock in the next Star Trek movie”

• Writing frequent Collegian columns alerting the populace to the grave dangers posed by the Greek system and the coordinate-housing system; sit back and wait for results

• Coordinating plan to run around campus, throw arms in air, and shout, “Mortal Kombat!”

• Demonstrations in favor of frequent flossing

• Presenting a petition to the English Department demanding that the letter D now come before the letter A in the alphabet, just because it would be cool

• Selling campus dogs to local Chinese restaurants, donating proceeds to charity

• Marching on the Admissions office, demanding that ability to color between the lines, even with fat crayons, be factored into admissions decisions

• Demanding that breathalyzers be placed on all campus phones, preventing hour-long late-night drunken phone calls to old girlfriends/boyfriends in Montana

• Supporting gender equality by mandating that sorority pledges go through fraternity Hell Week, too

• Demonstrations to rouse campus support for beer

• Merging the WCGA and RCSGA to remove the administration’s main arguments for the coordinate system, bringing the school a step closer to real integration

Oops.  Sorry.  That’s a real suggestion.  I promise not to do that again.

• Changing UR Alma Mater to “We Will Rock You”

• Showing support for new president by writing “ROOP 182” on walls everywhere

• Organizing patrols to find people who don’t recycle and beating them with aluminum softball bats

• Letter-writing campaign to make football a Winter Olympic sport so the United States can win something

• Forming a volunteer firefighter company on campus

• Forming a volunteer suicide mission company on campus

• Thinking globally, acting locally, drinking heavily before writing columns

• Protesting the lack of an “E” grade

Consider it, won’t you?  Remember not to send letters, postcards, or old “A-Ha” records to:

Over-the-Cliffnotes™/Fried or Baked Chicken Fan Club

c/o The Collusion

Tighty-whitey Hanes Commons

University of Richmond, TX OU812

Good night and good vibrations.

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


UR Myths Explained

By Jeffrey Carl

Jeffrey Carl UR Column
University of Richmond Collegian, November 11 1993

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:Okay, we’ll get to the point.  This column is really starting to get weird.  We don’t know what he’s talking about, and if we did we certainly wouldn’t agree with it.  Nonetheless, it remains property of The Collegian and may not be reprinted except for academic use or karaoke recitation without the express written consent of The Collegian and Major League Baseball.  

We here at The Collegian pride ourselves on being responsive to our readers.  And so we thought we’d take a few moments to dip into our mailbag and answer the most-frequently asked questions from students about the University of Richmond.

Q:Who is Dr. Staff?  And why is he listed as teaching so many courses at registration time?

A:Professor Staff is not only one of the busiest faculty members at the University, but is also one of its most colorful instructors.  He is easily recognized by his rainbow wig, bright green teeth, and prehensile tail.  He can often be glimpsed around campus, running naked and screaming “I’m cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs!” or during his office hours in the new Fine Arts Building.  

Q:What do sororities do?

A:Sororities exist to provide college women friendship, comraderie, leadership opportunities, moral upbuilding, door decorations, lots of cute sweatshirts with each sorority’s particular phallic symbol, and the right to go to sorority formals, which are just like bar mitzvahs, but with sex in the elevators.

Q:What were all those tombstones on Boatwright Beach last month about?

A:Those were part of a ROTC recruitment drive.  The tombstones served to illustrate ROTC’s recruitment slogan, “We kill more students before our 8:15 classes than most people kill all day.”

Q:How did the Tyler Haynes Commons get its name?

A:Tyler Haynes was a trustee of the University and a medieval feudal lord.  He was renowned through England as “Tyler the Heinous,” for his habit of decapitating serfs, one just for snoring too loud.  In 1286, he embarked on one of the last Crusades but was waylaid by Saracen Turks and got really, really lost.  Arriving in Virginia across the Asian Land Bridge over 20 years later, his name was mistranslated by local indians as “Tile Harebrains.”   Later, after he left the University the large fortune he had accumulated by scalping Richmond Renegades tickets, the school gave his name to the building used by the people he so charitably described as “Commoners.” 

Q:Why do all the guys put their fraternity letters and/or crest on their door?

A:This is a practice dating back to biblical times, when Moses instructed the Hebrews to paint their doors with lambs’ blood so that their first-born sons would be spared from the plague that struck the rest of Egypt.  Nowadays, the practice is kept up in hopes that if the Apocalypse is tomorrow (or at least some time during the semester) that the Angel of Death will turn out to have been a fraternity brother of theirs and they will be spared.

Q:What can I do with my SpiderCard?

A:SpiderCards can be used to buy supplies at the bookstore, extra food at the Pier, or semiautomatic weapons at Wal-Marts across the country.  Your SpiderCard can also be used to get into bars, initiation into the Freemasons, for free admission to monster truck shows, or to declare war on foreign nations without an act of Congress.

Q:Where do babies come from?

A:Aisle 7 in Hechinger’s Hardware.  They are $34.95 before the rebate.

Q:I’m very dissatisfied about something here at the University.  How can I change things?

A:Well, the simplest and most obvious method to correct the problem is to transfer.  But, if your parents won’t let you, there are other avenues you can pursue.

  First, try writing an indignant letter to The Collegian.  That always seems to effect rapid social change.  If you can’t write Clever Letters To The Editor, take a step down and be a columnist!  Write incisive, thought-provoking expositions about oral sex.  Write long-winded, obtuse diatribes about vital matters of the day, like grits.  Or just be unreadable, so people skip your column altogether and go straight to the Police Bulletin on page 13.

  If none of these ideas strike your fancy, try simple terrorism.  On a personal level, you can deliver ultimatums to your roommate, like “If you leave the CD player on one more time, I’ll have your ass in a fondue pot.”  Or try institutional terrorism, leaving notes in the D-Hall like, “Until you bring back Rib-B-Que, we will bend all our silverware at every meal.*”  

  My, that was fun!  Unfortunately, we don’t have any more letters in our mailbox this week.  But what the hell, let’s just reach over into Counseling And Psychological Services’ mailbox here and take some of their mail and answer it.

Q:My boyfriend of five years just broke up with me and left me for a man.  I feel like killing myself!  What should I do?  Signed, Lovelorn in Lora Robins

A:Go right ahead.  But either call The Collegian first so they can get photos before the cops arrive, or be sure to do it in some exciting manner, like driving a truck filled with dynamite into the Pier.

  I can tell by the clock on the wall that we’re out of space for this week.  Fortunately, we’ll be back again next week answering more of the questions that you spend sleepless nights wondering about.  Please send your questions, comments, embarrassing photos of faculty members, or old “ABBA” records to:

Correspondence, Advice, and Love Letters

The Coal Lesion

Tile Harebrains Commons, 13th Floor

University of Richmond, C.S.A.   90210

*Somebody really did this.  And it worked.  I’m not kidding.

Putting the “fun” in fundraising

By Jeffrey Carl

Jeffrey Carl UR Column
University of Richmond Collegian, November 4 1993

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: The opinions expressed in this column do not necessarily reflect the opinions of The Collegian or its staff. In fact, they sure as hell don’t, but what can we do? We’ve been hoping for a while that this guy would stop writing and pick up a constructive hobby like building those neat little ships inside bottles or something, but he keeps writing and his mom said she’ll cancel her subscription if we don’t run his columns and we only have three other subscriptions so we’re kind of over a barrel on this one. Whatever the case may be, this column is property of The Collegian and is not to be reprinted, excerpted, quoted from or even talked about without the express written consent of The Collegian and the National Football League. 

I hate charity fundraisers. I always have. Probably always will. It’s not like I’m a mean, nasty person … well, yes, actually, I am, but that’s not why. 

I mean, I don’t object to the idea of charity or something. I don’t mind giving a few pennies to benefit victims of dutch elm disease or scurvy or whatever. It isn’t even that I’m opposed to doing things for other people in general: you can get a fantastic buzz if you drink after giving blood, and if you’re stealthy, you can steal hundreds of little packs of Chips-Ahoy. 

I guess it’s that they’re all just so boring. Maybe if campus organizations found something exciting to do, I could get more interested. Perhaps instead of having wussy “pledge auctions,” fraternities could sell their pledges into the zombie slave trade and sororities could sell theirs in the red light district. They’d get a lot more money, and it would be so much more interesting.

Instead of simple teeter-tottering, they could combine it with those strength-testers in carnivals: one person would jump on the see-saw and propel the person on the other end up and into a large brass bell hoisted above them. If they ring the bell, the charity gets $5.

Then the other person, wandering about with a concussion, cerebral hemorrhaging, and muttering something about “time to make the donuts” gets to jump on their end and reverse the process. This raises money and is endlessly amusing, because bad things happening to other people is always good humor.

Or instead of a simple “Jail n’ Bail,” they could hold a “Turkish Prison Jail n’ Bail.” Students would again be jokingly “arrested” until their friends paid the requisite amount to “free” them. But instead of a cushioned corner of the Pier, students would be taken to a sub-basement of the Physical Plant building and confined in small cells, tortured psychologically and beaten continuously with rubber hoses. The psychological torture might consist of forcing them to watch MTV-Europe or reruns of “Saved by the Bell.” This would increase the urgency for the friends to come bail them out, and you could probably squeeze more money out of them, too. 

In fact, since I’m certainly not afraid to recycle old jokes, I think every campus organization could get into the act, each according to its own special abilities and gifts. For example:

INTERVARSITY CHRISTIAN FELLOWSHIP/CATHOLIC CAMPUS MINISTRY JOINT FUNDRAISERS:

1. Sell Indulgences.

2. Inform the campus that God has declared that Dr. Burhans will be “called home” unless it raises $5 million.

DINING HALL FUNDRAISERS:

1. Host lavish black-tie $100/plate dinner event. Serve real food.

2. Asassinate key figures in the University administration; seize reins of power, and declare martial law. This wouldn’t raise funds for anything, but it would still be really cool.

UNIVERSITY PLAYERS FUNDRAISERS:

1. Perform guerrilla theater skits at the Regency in the food court, in front of the Chick-Fil-A. Make people pay them to go away.

2. Undertake major renovations, then rename the James L. Camp Memorial Theater, “The Kamp Karaoke Kavern.” Get together with CAB and work something out. 

JEPSON SCHOOL FUNDRAISER:

Call Bob Jepson.

Maybe I’d be more excited if charities were more aggressive. You know, if it’s such a great cause, people should have no excuse for not giving. If the United Nations can send troops to Somalia, why shouldn’t UNICEF be able to send brigades of mechanized infantry to shopping malls and establish martial law at The Gap until all the little snots there hand over their parents’ credit cards? Perhaps the Salvation Army would send legions of crack paratrooper Santas to K marts across the country to insure everyone “gives ‘til it hurts.”

Maybe my problem is the charities that these fundraiser events are for. I’m sure they are honest and deserving, but there are a lot of worthy causes to raise money for that frequently get neglected. Here are a few actual non-profit organizations that I think should get some attention for future fundraisers:

• BRENT MUSBERGER FOR PRESIDENT ‘96 campaign fund

• WE ARE THE WORLD League of American Football – donations needed badly

• THE JEFFERSON MEMORIAL – collecting to place a large bronze statue of Sherman Hemsley in Washington, D.C.

• THE S. SHEPARD LEGAL DEFENSE FUND FOR HOMELESS SOCIALIST MINORITY ILLEGAL IMMIGRANTS WHO DON’T LIKE GRITS

• KOOL-AID – collecting money to find new jobs for the members of “Kool & the Gang”

• FREE JAMES BROWN!

• JAIL MONTEL WILLIAMS!

• ROBBY KRIEGER MEMORIAL PSYCHIATRIC TREATMENT FUND – for people who think Jim Morrison was “an American Poet”

• THE MARCH OF DRACHMAS – for disabled children in Greece

• SQUIRRELHOLICS ANONYMOUS – I won’t explain it, but it’s sad

Or what about a truly deserving cause founded right here at the UR? An idea of mine is to take up a collection to hire a hit man to get rid of the annoying kid from those “Encyclopedia Brittanica” commercials.

Maybe this is all the inevitable result of me, getting old and grumpy. But please consider it, won’t you? Please send contributions to:

Death to That Annoying Kid From Those “Encyclopedia Brittanica” Comercials Fund

c/o The Collegian, Espionage, Sabotage, and Asassination Dept.

Tyler Heinous Commons, 14th Floor

Richmond, The University, 90125

The Rushin’ Revolution: Fun with Karaoke

By Jeffrey Carl

Jeffrey Carl UR Column
University of Richmond Collegian, October 21 1993

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!

A lot of people do a lot of complaining about Rush, the process by which fraternities and sororities accept new members. It seems that the University’s administration is perpetually changing the rules or whatever and nobody’s sure if it’s dry or if they’re allowed to put lemon flavoring in the kegs or what. 

Well, I, for one, really dig Rush. I firmly believe that Rush is one of the best things you can do with your time and that it isn’t in the least an enormous hokey waste of time or something like that. 

In fact, I think that it shouldn’t be just Greek organizations, but that all campus organizations of any kind should have a Rush.  Imagine the benefits to society in general.

Rush is usually composed of several nights of schmoozing events, followed by an invitation-only or preference party and then a day when invitations to join (bids) are given out. For example, my fraternity’s Rush schedule this year looked pretty much like this:

Day 1: Get-Really-Drunk-And-Forget-Everybody’s-Name-You-Met-Last-Night Party, 8:00 P.M.

Day 2: Acoustic Night with a depressing folk singer, 9:00 P.M.

Day 3: Meet the Brotherhood Awkward Conversation/Binge Drinking Party, 8:00 P.M.

Day 4: Guys-Only Invitational Sausage Party, 4:00 P.M.

Day 5: Bids Extended/Frenzied consideration about whether we were telling you the truth about pledging just being our putting stuff on your doors and buying you presents or if we were really pulling your leg

Or something like that, anyway. This truncated membership induction process is obviously the scientifically-concluded optimum way to meet new members, or else the administration wouldn’t have mandated it. So why doesn’t everybody do it? What might it be like if everybody had a Rush?

BETA BETA BETA (Biology Honor Society) RUSH:

Day 1: Special Lab Section: Can You Break Down the Amino Acids in Taco Bell?, 12:00 A.M.

Day 2: Dissection Night with Milwaukee’s Beast, 11:00 P.M.

Day 3: Karaoke Night, 9:00 P.M.

Day 4: Bids Extended/Lab Reports Due

“THE WEB” (YEARBOOK) RUSH:

Day 1: Get-Crazy-with-a-Keg-of-Shasta Party, 4:00 P.M.

Day 2: Karaoke Night, 9:00 P.M.

Day 3: Rock with Web house band, “The Typos” 6:30 P.M.

Day 4: Bids Extended

Day 9: Bids Received

UR WRITING CENTER RUSH:

Day 1: Meet the Third Person Plural Construction Cookout, 2:00 P.M. 

Day 2: Karaoke Night, 9:00 P.M.

Day 3: Acoustic Night with Writing Center house band, “The Passive Voice” 3:00 P.M.

Day 4: Bids extended/Spelling and grammar mistakes corrected and returned

UNIVERSITY COMPUTING RUSH:

Day 1: Karaoke with Herbie Hancock Night, 3:00 P.M. 

Day 2: Guess-Where-in-the-United-States-are-the-Macintosh-Parts-You-Ordered-Six-Weeks-Ago Party, 5:00 P.M.

Day 3: Get-Zany-with-a-Keg-of-Intel-80486-33MHz-Microprocessors Party, 1:00 A.M.

Day 4: Bids E-Mailed

JEPSON SCHOOL OF LEADERSHIP STUDIES RUSH:

Day 1: Invitational Karaoke Night, 9:00 P.M.

Day 2: We-Have-the-Most-Expensive-Lodge-On-Campus Party with Jepson house band “The Rolling Stones” 7:30 P.M.

Day 3: Drinkin’ Malt Liquor with Norman Schwarzkopf Party, 3:00 A.M.

Day 4: Bid Applications Due

CAB (CAMPUS ACTIVITIES BOARD) RUSH

Day 1: Karaoke Night, 8:00 P.M. 

Day 2: Acoustic Karaoke Night, 8:00 P.M.

Day 3: Zydeco Swamp Music: Okeefenokee Karaoke Night, 8:00 P.M.

Day 4: Bids Extended by Karaoke

WILL (WOMEN INVOLVED IN LEARNING AND LIVING) RUSH:

Day 1: Equal-Rights-Does-Not-Necessarily-Mean-Mandatory-Castration Cookout, 2:00 P.M.

Day 2: Acoustic Night with depressing feminist poets, 8:00 P.M. 

Day 3: Karaoke Mixer with VCU Men’s Studies Department, 8:30 P.M.

Day 4: Bids Extended/Information and Bitc … I mean, Complaint Session

INTERVARSITY CHRISTIAN FELLOWSHIP RUSH:

Day 1: Meet Your Maker cookout, 4:30 P.M.

Day 2: Fish and Loaves picnic, 2:00 P.M.

Day 3: I-Found-the-Lord-and-Lost-my-Talent: Christian Rock Night, 7:00 P.M.*

Day 4: Bids extended by the Angel of Death

Day 7: Day of Rest

Wouldn’t life be much more exciting? I suspected as much. The point of all this being that Rush is a really fantastic thing and I don’t think that it’s possible to take it too seriously and it is obviously something everybody should do all the time or at least complain about profusely. Seriously. I’m not kidding.

Well, maybe I’m kidding a little.

*Special thanks to P.J. O’Rourke

“This is Snuffalupagus speaking”

By Jeffrey Carl

Jeffrey Carl UR Column
October 7, 1993

This was my first “humor” column for the University of Richmond Collegian. I was a Journalism Major and at the time the Greek Life Editor in my Junior year so I leveraged that immense power and influence to get an opportunity to fill in an open below-the-fold 1/3 page in the recesses of the Opinion section. At the time, few thought it would be an important debut to the world of comedy writing. These people were entirely correct.

We here at The Collegian pride ourselves on being responsive to our readers. And so I thought I’d take a few minutes and respond to some of the suggestions we have received from you, the readers, and show that we don’t just throw away all the mail we get that doesn’t include a sexual preference. In fact, all letters to The Collegian are read by every member of The Collegian’s staff, whereupon all spelling, grammar and style errors are circled in bright red ink and laughed at hysterically, and the writer is sent for a conference in the Writing Center. But here are a few of the more common suggestions we have received.

1. WHINING MORATORIUM

I. P. from New Jersey writes, “It seems that all anyone does at The Collegian is complain. Well, I’m sick of it! I hate complaining! Can’t you make it stop?”

Well, this is something that we have been looking at for a long time. The complaining endemic at The Collegian has come to grate on even the most embittered and cynical among us. A close friend of mine was one of the most prominent and renowned complainers last year. And as dear to me as she is, my fishing experience has taught me that when they’re flopping around and their gills have dried out, you should just whack ‘em on the head and get it over with.

One method proposed for dealing with constant complainers was a 25¢ fine to be assessed every time that a column contained the word “conformity,” “diversity,” “Rush,” “D-hall,” or “Shepard,” since they’re obviously bitching about something. This scheme was seriously considered until one of our more astute staff members pointed out that we don’t actually pay our columnists – maybe run by their rooms and throw some raw meat in or get their prescription re-filled.

The plan was then abandoned since these sanctions would leave the entire Collegian columnist staff either destitute or hanging on someone’s wall just below the swordfish, with the exception of the aforementioned Mr. Shepard, because we can’t figure out what he’s saying anyway, except for the part about grits. And we aren’t sure if he was complaining about them or not.

2. FUN WITH LIBEL

It has been said that the stories in The Collegian are of a none-too-sensational nature. Remarked B.S. from New Jersey, “The stories in The Collegian are of a none-too-sensational nature.” Well, we can do something about that.

“A B LORD BITES HEAD OFF LIVE RUSHEE!”

“LEONARD GOLDBERG ARRESTED FOR WAR CRIMES (WE GOT PICTURES! PICTURES!)”

“JEPSON CHECK BOUNCES! LEADERSHIP SCHOOL CLOSED!”

“‘WEB’ STAFF GOES WILDING! HUNDREDS MAIMED!”

Well, if you want stories like that, we got ‘em. How?  We make them up! Unfortunately, the printing of blatantly false inflammatory and defamatory (read “interesting”) stories is libel, which translates into getting our asses sued off.

However, if we raise the price of The Collegian to $25 an issue, we may be able to build up a legal defense fund large enough to provide the stories the public craves. Let us know if that sounds ok.

3. DIRTY PICTURES! PICTURES!

T.T. from New Jersey writes, “I have noticed that most quality publications are easily distinguished by the pictures of scantily-clad beauties inside. If you seek the same journalistic respect that the ‘Weekly World News’ and ‘Star’ receive, you’d better get on the ball in that area.”

Again, your wish is our command. Each issue of The Collegian will now feature a full photo spread of a different member of the senior Collegian editorial staff in a thong bikini, beginning next week with our design editor, Jason Roop.

4. WE’RE NO FUN

P.U. from New Jersey writes, “You guys are no fun.” Well, we agree, and we’re looking at several different promotional concepts to put the fun back in to college journalism.

a) Replace current staff with clever trained seals

b) Print issues in special ink; pass out decoder rings in D-Hall

c) Give away free campus dog with each issue

d) Install breathalyzer – no one allowed in Collegian office under .15 BAL

e) Issue written exclusively in mime

f) Special fold-out pages like “Mad” magazine that form dirty pictures of administrators

or, again,

g) Extra Roop centerfolds

Let us know which of these ideas you prefer. All submissions will be carefully considered and then fed to the trained seals. Remember, The Collegian is here to serve you, so send all suggestions to:

The Collegian

Tyler Haynes Commons, sixth floor

University of Richmundane

Krakatoa, Indonesia, 90210

Good night and God bless.