Well, it’s that time of year again. When the sight of snow turns the thoughts of young children to what they’ll be getting for Christmas (or Hannukah). When the smell of an evergreen tree reminds grandparents of holidays of old. When the crisp morning air is broken by students asking why the hell someone built a damn fence down the middle of campus. Ah yes, final exams and term paper time at UPEI a sure sign of the holiday season, when a young student’s fancy turns from booze to books, and from partying to considering calling up someone in Bulgaria to see how much it would cost to hire an old Soviet bomber to carpet-bomb the University ($964,000).
Who needs the NHL? Ron Artest showed last week that the NBA player can incite an impromptu riot just as well as any Tie Domi or Theo Fleury. Hell, he went one step further and took the fighting to the fans. You know, someone should’ve done that years ago. They’re paying big bucks for those games and Artest made them feel like part of the show. Bravo Ronny. A full-season suspension? Phht. Amateur. If he was Tie Domi he’d only get a game misconduct and a pay raise. If he was Kobe Bryant he’d get off scot-free.
Did anyone hear about the Halifax woman that flipped out after the snow storm a few weeks ago? She barged in at a news conference at the Legislative Buildings and went on for a good five minutes in front of the camera about how Nova Scotia power has no business letting the power go out for more than 24 hours and should make sure that towers don’t fall down during storms. You know what random crazy woman? You’re right. After all it’s their fault when we get hit with unseasonal storms with 50-odd centimetres of snow and a nice blast of wind. We may as well start firing road crews for letting snow fall on the road and arresting those stupid air traffic controllers for grounding flights when the wind is too strong. Assholes. Frig, while we’re at it, why not take Peter Coade and Boomer out back and shoot them. It’s all their fault anyway. It’s probably also their fault that you have six kids under the age of twelve and have to deal with them all day and that you didn’t get prepared when they called for the storm right? Listen lady, you live in Nova Scotia, snow falls, power goes out. Get a life.
Well, from what I have heard and seen over the past few weeks, apparently some people do not appreciate the "anti-Americanism" in my articles. Well that’s interesting, because I do not recall any anti-Americanism in any of my past articles. Come on now. I have never said anything that would suggest that Americans are bad people that would steal candy from children or kick adorable kittens or fly halfway around the world to bomb other countries...oh wait. Seriously though, I have never said that I hated the United States of America. In fact, my sister and her family live in the U.S. and I have no reason to believe that they are any less human than...um...Paul Allen.
Now what you may have read was something where I may have criticized the government of the United States, or took exception to the actions that the U.S. administration has taken in the past, oh, let’s say, four years. Although many of you may be unfamiliar with differing perspectives, or even unaware that they exist, these, may I point out, are not "anti-American" comments. They are simply an expression of my views dealing with the U.S. political system. As this is an editorial, I would assume, perhaps wrongly so, that the average reader would take my opinion with a grain of salt, and realize that perhaps I am not trying to be an objective reporter when I say things like: "[Bush is a] right-wing nutjob behind a hugeass nuclear arsenal," or when I jokingly suggest that he should eat more pretzels. It may surprise you, but I do not, in fact hate President Bush. In fact, I do not even know the man. I do, however, think he is the biggest moron to ever walk the face of the earth, let alone occupy the Oval Office. So no, I do not hate George W. Bush, and no, I do not hate the American people, but I do have concern for the political system in the United States, and believe it or not, being a Political Studies student, I am not just some idiot ranting my opinions by any means necessary. Ok, maybe I am, but that being said, this is a student media open to all student opinions and views. The fact that I choose to use it should neither make me the target of unbridled hate and criticism, nor should it discourage others from expressing themselves through their own submissions, opinionated or otherwise, to this paper.
Have a good one!
Tuesday, November 30, 2004
Friday, November 19, 2004
...And now for something completely different: The Rants of a University Student (#16)
Well the shorts certainly came off Boomer in a hurry this week. Yes, the hellish winds of mid-fall have arrived and soon enough it will be minus 43 billion here on campus and our walk from class to class will once again become a death race between buildings. And Halifax was ripped apart by wind and 45 centimetres of snow on Sunday. Oh joy oh joy, oh bliss oh bliss.
But not all news is depressing here on P.E.I. Oh no, some of it is just downright stupid. Last week good old Binns decided to sue the federal government. Wonderful. Yeah I know, I was excited too, because we certainly have ample resources to waste on a lengthy legal battle with the federal government. Hey Binns! Were you not part of Mulroney’s federal government when they changed the law so that seiners could come that close anyway? Either way, regardless if you’re on the side of big business and the seiners or if you’re on the wharf getting your head bashed in by the Souris SWAT brigade, my guess is the herring will all be gone anyway by the time old Binnsy and the feds get their acts in gear anyway.
All points bulletin: a man robbed Swiss Chalet/Harvey’s last week with a knife. City Police have warned citizens to be on the look-out for the suspect. So head’s up everyone, we are looking for a man who was wearing “baggy pants with paint on them”. They could have been, and we don’t want to make any assumptions here, sweat pants. So you or anyone you know has pants that fit this description, contact Crime Stoppers immediately. Honestly, we know we don’t have the brightest cops on the block, but do they have to prove it every damn week? Paint covered sweat pants? Frig. A good 75% of my Dad’s clothing is covered in paint or dirt or grime of some kind. I mean I’ll ask him, but I’m pretty sure he didn’t hold up a restaurant last week.
On a list Popular Science released last week, it was stated that testing polluted water in Newfoundland’s St. John’s harbour is a bad job. No really? I love how scientists do these studies to tell us things like this. Newsflash! Drinking paint thinner can reduce brain cells. Attention! Shooting yourself in the head greatly reduces your life expectancy rate. They also rated the position of “Iraqi archaeologist” as one of the worst jobs in science. Idiots.
According to conflicting reports last week Yasser Arafat passed away, then lapsed in to a coma, made a full recovery and then died again. Officials do not now expect his condition to worsen. George W. Bush, in his typical statesman form, extended condolences to the Palestinian nation by telling the world that we are better off without him. Wow Dubya, I didn’t know you could be so sensitive. Sure, Arafat may have made some questionable moves and had some nasty habits, but it used to be you’d wait until the man was in the friggin ground before you start pissing on his grave.
Magic 93 has certainly classed up their prize give-aways. Where ordinary stations over across only give out like concert tickets or trips or something, now during Paul and Anne’s birthday trivia in the morning they give away, wait for it........silk scarves. Yes, I am not joking. Silk scarves. Is this supposed to make me want to stay tuned to listen to Clay Aiken all day? I mean unless I was Liberace (or I guess Clay Aiken), I see no way in which I could get even remotely excited about a silk scarf. I mean seriously, Paul must get up every morning and think, “Hey, how can I make myself that much more of a dumb ass today?”
Who the hell decided it was a good idea to form a trailer park beside Duffy? Seriously, can we not come up with a better system during renovations than moving the Biology Department into a mobile home? Now Schurman’s have decided to throw a bunch of trailers back there with ‘Private Property’ signs on the side. Private Property? Whose? Last time I checked Irving doesn’t own our campus. You know what, Mr. Irving Big Corporation Guy? You can’t just drop stuff on my campus and call it ‘Private Property’. And if you have a problem with that, you can move your G.D. trailer to wherever the hell you brought it from. If I want to walk up to your trailer, knock on the door, walk in and grab a cup of coffee, I will damnwell do so. And that folks, is my prerogative.
Have a good one!
But not all news is depressing here on P.E.I. Oh no, some of it is just downright stupid. Last week good old Binns decided to sue the federal government. Wonderful. Yeah I know, I was excited too, because we certainly have ample resources to waste on a lengthy legal battle with the federal government. Hey Binns! Were you not part of Mulroney’s federal government when they changed the law so that seiners could come that close anyway? Either way, regardless if you’re on the side of big business and the seiners or if you’re on the wharf getting your head bashed in by the Souris SWAT brigade, my guess is the herring will all be gone anyway by the time old Binnsy and the feds get their acts in gear anyway.
All points bulletin: a man robbed Swiss Chalet/Harvey’s last week with a knife. City Police have warned citizens to be on the look-out for the suspect. So head’s up everyone, we are looking for a man who was wearing “baggy pants with paint on them”. They could have been, and we don’t want to make any assumptions here, sweat pants. So you or anyone you know has pants that fit this description, contact Crime Stoppers immediately. Honestly, we know we don’t have the brightest cops on the block, but do they have to prove it every damn week? Paint covered sweat pants? Frig. A good 75% of my Dad’s clothing is covered in paint or dirt or grime of some kind. I mean I’ll ask him, but I’m pretty sure he didn’t hold up a restaurant last week.
On a list Popular Science released last week, it was stated that testing polluted water in Newfoundland’s St. John’s harbour is a bad job. No really? I love how scientists do these studies to tell us things like this. Newsflash! Drinking paint thinner can reduce brain cells. Attention! Shooting yourself in the head greatly reduces your life expectancy rate. They also rated the position of “Iraqi archaeologist” as one of the worst jobs in science. Idiots.
According to conflicting reports last week Yasser Arafat passed away, then lapsed in to a coma, made a full recovery and then died again. Officials do not now expect his condition to worsen. George W. Bush, in his typical statesman form, extended condolences to the Palestinian nation by telling the world that we are better off without him. Wow Dubya, I didn’t know you could be so sensitive. Sure, Arafat may have made some questionable moves and had some nasty habits, but it used to be you’d wait until the man was in the friggin ground before you start pissing on his grave.
Magic 93 has certainly classed up their prize give-aways. Where ordinary stations over across only give out like concert tickets or trips or something, now during Paul and Anne’s birthday trivia in the morning they give away, wait for it........silk scarves. Yes, I am not joking. Silk scarves. Is this supposed to make me want to stay tuned to listen to Clay Aiken all day? I mean unless I was Liberace (or I guess Clay Aiken), I see no way in which I could get even remotely excited about a silk scarf. I mean seriously, Paul must get up every morning and think, “Hey, how can I make myself that much more of a dumb ass today?”
Who the hell decided it was a good idea to form a trailer park beside Duffy? Seriously, can we not come up with a better system during renovations than moving the Biology Department into a mobile home? Now Schurman’s have decided to throw a bunch of trailers back there with ‘Private Property’ signs on the side. Private Property? Whose? Last time I checked Irving doesn’t own our campus. You know what, Mr. Irving Big Corporation Guy? You can’t just drop stuff on my campus and call it ‘Private Property’. And if you have a problem with that, you can move your G.D. trailer to wherever the hell you brought it from. If I want to walk up to your trailer, knock on the door, walk in and grab a cup of coffee, I will damnwell do so. And that folks, is my prerogative.
Have a good one!
Tuesday, November 09, 2004
...And now for something completely different: The Rants of a University Student (#15)
Well they've done it again. Americans have proven that there is no stereotyping when it comes to selecting a President of the United States. In fact, anyone can be re-elected nowadays, even if they're a total dumb ass with no concept of democratic rights and who wouldn't know a grammatically-correct sentence if it slapped him in the face.
Yes, my good friend Dubya has been re-instated as the commander and chief of the most powerful nation on the face of the earth. Does this not scare anyone else? Well yes, of course it does. Israel and Russia were the only countries looking forward to his re-election. Hmmm... I wonder why.
This is a man who in his first four years has thrown his military all over the world, destroyed the U.S. economy beyond recognition and who is partially responsible for the deaths of tens of thousands of people. The only thing different about this term is that this time he knows that he'll never have to face the electorate again. That's a comforting thought, isn't it? Well, the quasi-democratic federation of Russia thinks so.
Well, either way I guess it's four more years of this right-wing nutjob behind a huge-ass nuclear arsenal. Personally, I'm cheering for another pretzel.
Results aside, what the hell is wrong with that electoral system? Hint: When designing a voting system in any conventional democratic society, there should not have to be legal intervention every damn time there's an election. I mean come on, even Belarus couldn't screw it up this bad. There are 50 states and 50 voting systems, each with their own unique problems. Wonderful. Here's an idea. Forget punching cards and computerized voting and all that crap: mark an 'X'. People who cannot read and who cannot merge in traffic can even mark an 'X', hell, I bet even Bush could do that.
Downtown Charlottetown. Make it your own. Riiight. Here's an interesting note about downtown Charlottetown. Can someone tell me why the Confederation Court Mall closes at 5:30 on the weekend? I mean the Charlottetown Mall is bad enough with its' prostitots and teenage rent-a-cops and Shaun Desmond wannabes, but 5:30? Come on. And yes, I know, Charlottetown is a great place to raise your kids and grow a garden and blah blah blah, but if I don't happen to be one of the people that goes to bed at 7:30 on the weekend, then how the hell am I supposed "make Charlottetown my own"? Jerks. I know, I sang the praises of our fair city just a few weeks ago, but those commercials are driving me nuts. And don't get me started on those parking kiosks.
Usher, could you please tell me what the hell a Boo is? Because your damn song with Alicia Keys is driving me insane. The kind of insanity that sends me into random fits of rage while I'm driving. And Britney, do you even know what a "prerogative" is? Can you spell it? Yeah, didn't think so. Your prerogative is to shut the hell up. Pop quiz
Lloyd Banks: Spot the subordinate clause in this phrase: "...fresh out the gutter, too smooth to stutter, the cig a melt a brother like two scoops of butter." Forget that. What the hell does that mean?
Simple Plan is getting ridiculous with their frigging tortured soul ballads Honestly guys, what were these terribly traumatic events and oppressive obstacles that you had to overcome as four white guys growing up in the middle class suburbs of Montréal? Daddy wouldn't buy you a new car and you had to go to parties in a wood-paneled station wagon? Awwww, muffin. Magic 93 is killing me.
Well, other than the trailer park forming on campus-south and the random things that I choose to complain about, not all is bad here at UPEI, nor all across this great country of ours for that matter. We have one reason to thank for this, and that is the sacrifice of hundreds of thousands of Canadian soldiers who fought and gave their lives, and continue to do so on a daily basis, to ensure that out freedom and ideals are protected. So for all you punks that I overheard this week complaining that you didn't want to wear a poppy because it was "dirty" or because you didn't want to pierce a hole in your precious jacket, suck it up and show your appreciation for the men and women who gave up their right to enjoy their youth and to an education so that someday we would be able to partake in those same benefits.
Lest we forget.
Have a good one!
Yes, my good friend Dubya has been re-instated as the commander and chief of the most powerful nation on the face of the earth. Does this not scare anyone else? Well yes, of course it does. Israel and Russia were the only countries looking forward to his re-election. Hmmm... I wonder why.
This is a man who in his first four years has thrown his military all over the world, destroyed the U.S. economy beyond recognition and who is partially responsible for the deaths of tens of thousands of people. The only thing different about this term is that this time he knows that he'll never have to face the electorate again. That's a comforting thought, isn't it? Well, the quasi-democratic federation of Russia thinks so.
Well, either way I guess it's four more years of this right-wing nutjob behind a huge-ass nuclear arsenal. Personally, I'm cheering for another pretzel.
Results aside, what the hell is wrong with that electoral system? Hint: When designing a voting system in any conventional democratic society, there should not have to be legal intervention every damn time there's an election. I mean come on, even Belarus couldn't screw it up this bad. There are 50 states and 50 voting systems, each with their own unique problems. Wonderful. Here's an idea. Forget punching cards and computerized voting and all that crap: mark an 'X'. People who cannot read and who cannot merge in traffic can even mark an 'X', hell, I bet even Bush could do that.
Downtown Charlottetown. Make it your own. Riiight. Here's an interesting note about downtown Charlottetown. Can someone tell me why the Confederation Court Mall closes at 5:30 on the weekend? I mean the Charlottetown Mall is bad enough with its' prostitots and teenage rent-a-cops and Shaun Desmond wannabes, but 5:30? Come on. And yes, I know, Charlottetown is a great place to raise your kids and grow a garden and blah blah blah, but if I don't happen to be one of the people that goes to bed at 7:30 on the weekend, then how the hell am I supposed "make Charlottetown my own"? Jerks. I know, I sang the praises of our fair city just a few weeks ago, but those commercials are driving me nuts. And don't get me started on those parking kiosks.
Usher, could you please tell me what the hell a Boo is? Because your damn song with Alicia Keys is driving me insane. The kind of insanity that sends me into random fits of rage while I'm driving. And Britney, do you even know what a "prerogative" is? Can you spell it? Yeah, didn't think so. Your prerogative is to shut the hell up. Pop quiz
Lloyd Banks: Spot the subordinate clause in this phrase: "...fresh out the gutter, too smooth to stutter, the cig a melt a brother like two scoops of butter." Forget that. What the hell does that mean?
Simple Plan is getting ridiculous with their frigging tortured soul ballads Honestly guys, what were these terribly traumatic events and oppressive obstacles that you had to overcome as four white guys growing up in the middle class suburbs of Montréal? Daddy wouldn't buy you a new car and you had to go to parties in a wood-paneled station wagon? Awwww, muffin. Magic 93 is killing me.
Well, other than the trailer park forming on campus-south and the random things that I choose to complain about, not all is bad here at UPEI, nor all across this great country of ours for that matter. We have one reason to thank for this, and that is the sacrifice of hundreds of thousands of Canadian soldiers who fought and gave their lives, and continue to do so on a daily basis, to ensure that out freedom and ideals are protected. So for all you punks that I overheard this week complaining that you didn't want to wear a poppy because it was "dirty" or because you didn't want to pierce a hole in your precious jacket, suck it up and show your appreciation for the men and women who gave up their right to enjoy their youth and to an education so that someday we would be able to partake in those same benefits.
Lest we forget.
Have a good one!
Tuesday, October 26, 2004
...And now for something completely different: The Rants of a University Student (#14)
You may find it hard to believe, but something pissed me off this week. Subway has gone over to the dark side, switching from Pepsi to Coke. I am not an emotional person per se, but that one near put me over the edge. I don’t ask for much in life, and call me a corporate whore if you will, but honestly, is a glass of Pepsi with my sub too much to ask? Sigh. I think mid-term stress may be getting to me.
Prince Edward Island has once again proven itself to be the seat of intelligent thought. As reported in The Guardian last week, two businessmen were forced to duck for cover when pellets from a hunter’s gun in an adjoining field began hitting the side of their place of business. City councilor Bruce Garrity said that this was “pretty serious.” No way Bruce, really? Do you really think that the fact that people firing off shotguns in populated areas and having fragments flying across the Sherwood Road and hitting business complexes is really a problem? Noooo. The worst part is, city police Const. Gary Clow stated that the hunter was hunting LEGALLY. Yes, in the city of Charlottetown it is apparently entirely legal for a hunter to fire weapons that could consequently impede and seriously deter the driving ability of passing cars. Does this not seem a bit weird? That because someone wants to shoot at ducks, you could be driving along and shotgun fire could hit your car and that is a-ok with the Charlottetown Police? This isn’t Baghdad you know. This story was almost as bad as the one in The Guardian last week about the guy who won’t get his picture taken for his license because he believes that digital photo databases are the work of Satan.
God bless those BoSox. Now if we can forget the goats and Bill Buckner and keep that damn Steve Bartmann out of Fenway Park, they should be alright. The idiots of the week? A-Rod for whacking a baseball out of Bronson Arroyo’s glove and Houston GM Phil Garner for benching Roger Clemens in Game 6 of the NLCS.
So finally, after the deaths of over 15,000 Iraqis and the tearing apart of their country by the American-led “coalition” in search of non-existent weapons of mass-destruction, Saddam Hussein is finally set to stand trial. I don’t understand this. It doesn’t make sense that civilian homes continue to be indiscriminately bombed, killing thousands of people just going about their daily business and then Saddam gets a fair trial. It has always been my policy that if you’re gonna drag your country into a foreign war killing thousands of civilians and losing eleven hundred of your own troops in the process, when you finally do find the dictator that you tore apart the country trying to get to, that you may as well pick up whatever Styrofoam brick he may be hiding under, drop a grenade in, and badda boom badda bing, game over. But of course, don’t blame any of this on old Dubya. This week he was quoted as saying in a meeting before the war began “Oh, no, we’re not going to have any casualties.”
In Hussein’s trial, they can’t really charge him with possession of WMDs, for obvious reasons, but he will be charged with the gassing of ethnic Kurds and for the invasion of Kuwait. Using illegal weapons and invading countries for their oil resources? Wow. That doesn’t sound familiar at all.
Well everyone in Canada had a collective conniption fit last week when they found out that Don Cherry had made it onto CBC’s final top ten list on The Greatest Canadian, to which he responded “I love it when we get those left-wingers going.” Smooth Don, smooth. In fact the entire top 100 was an odd mix. Numbers 1 through 17 were all white men and only six women made it into the top 50. The white male parade was ended at number 18, not by a Canadian woman who has made relevant difference in the world like Louise Arbour (#97) or Emily Murphy (#74), but rather, by Shania Twain. There was not even a hint of any ethnicity until Tecumseh, a native-Canadian who helped repel American attacks in 1812, weighed in at # 37. This, however, is not an example of the media blatantly ignoring ethnic groups or women; this list wasn’t even made up by the CBC. The candidates were nominated and voted on BY CANADIANS. So everyone that was freaking out were really just a bunch of hypocrites. This vote is perhaps little more than a sad narrative to our own opinions and lack of knowledge as to what a “great Canadian” is. I have no idea how Pamela Anderson trumps Glenn Gould or Roberta Bondar nor how Nellie McClung, the woman who fought for woman’s rights and the franchise to vote, was bested by Stompin’ Tom Connors. I don’t even know how Brian Mulroney, Bret Hart or William Shatner made it to the list at all. On a brighter note, Mr. Dressup did make it to the list in 36th spot, well ahead of former Prime Ministers Sir Wilfred Laurier, Jean Chrétien and John Diefenbaker.
I think residents of the new Brown’s Court apartments may wish to re-consider their habit of crossing University Avenue wherever the hell they feel like it. I mean sure, pedestrians have the right of way in most situations, but when I am in a 1000 pound vehicle that’s doing about 80, the laws of physics kind of specify that the car has a fairly good advantage, especially when drivers cannot see students sprinting between vehicles. Is it really that difficult to get up 45 seconds earlier in the morning so that you have time to walk to the crosswalk at the lights? That crosswalk, by the way, was put in place a few years back after a student was hit by a car and killed. Do we have to wait until that happens again before we stop being dumb asses?
According to several media outlets, the days of the US Ambassador to Canada, Paul Celucci, are numbered. Celucci has become an out-spoken diplomat in Ottawa, criticizing Canada for not going to war in Iraq, complaining about Canada’s lack of help after September 11th, disapproving Canadian review of policy on marijuana laws and deriding indecision about the proposed missile defence program. Let me be the first to say: Get out of my face Paul. He apparently didn’t get the memo that ambassadors are supposed to be diplomats, not liaisons with political agendas; not many people really gave a damn with what he has to say about stuff that he doesn’t understand anyway. Celucci, a former governor, will likely run for the Senate after leaving the US Embassy in Ottawa. Good luck and good riddance Paul. They deserve you.
Myron’s has declared Wednesday night Holland College Night. Say what? I mean I wouldn’t be caught dead down at Moron’s on a Wednesday anyway, but why a Holland College night? So what if they don’t have their own bar? Neither do those poor students at the Academy of Learning and Compu College. Where the hell are they supposed to drink? Out on the street? Those jerks. Well they can keep their damn Discrimination Wednesdays to themselves, I’ll keep my trivia with Matt and Lenny thanks.
Finally, our sports editor landed in some hot water and became the target of the ire of the entire UPEI Field Hockey team after writing an article that they perceived as portraying their sport in a negative light. As an employee of The Cadre, I feel it is my duty to stand up in his time of need and say: “You’re on your own man.” I have my own controversies to deal with, and pissing off a bunch of girls with big sticks is not my idea of a good time. Now I hear they want you to come out to a practice to see what you’re made of. Lucky you. Shave your legs and strap on those cleats man. You better wear a cup too.
Have a good one!
Prince Edward Island has once again proven itself to be the seat of intelligent thought. As reported in The Guardian last week, two businessmen were forced to duck for cover when pellets from a hunter’s gun in an adjoining field began hitting the side of their place of business. City councilor Bruce Garrity said that this was “pretty serious.” No way Bruce, really? Do you really think that the fact that people firing off shotguns in populated areas and having fragments flying across the Sherwood Road and hitting business complexes is really a problem? Noooo. The worst part is, city police Const. Gary Clow stated that the hunter was hunting LEGALLY. Yes, in the city of Charlottetown it is apparently entirely legal for a hunter to fire weapons that could consequently impede and seriously deter the driving ability of passing cars. Does this not seem a bit weird? That because someone wants to shoot at ducks, you could be driving along and shotgun fire could hit your car and that is a-ok with the Charlottetown Police? This isn’t Baghdad you know. This story was almost as bad as the one in The Guardian last week about the guy who won’t get his picture taken for his license because he believes that digital photo databases are the work of Satan.
God bless those BoSox. Now if we can forget the goats and Bill Buckner and keep that damn Steve Bartmann out of Fenway Park, they should be alright. The idiots of the week? A-Rod for whacking a baseball out of Bronson Arroyo’s glove and Houston GM Phil Garner for benching Roger Clemens in Game 6 of the NLCS.
So finally, after the deaths of over 15,000 Iraqis and the tearing apart of their country by the American-led “coalition” in search of non-existent weapons of mass-destruction, Saddam Hussein is finally set to stand trial. I don’t understand this. It doesn’t make sense that civilian homes continue to be indiscriminately bombed, killing thousands of people just going about their daily business and then Saddam gets a fair trial. It has always been my policy that if you’re gonna drag your country into a foreign war killing thousands of civilians and losing eleven hundred of your own troops in the process, when you finally do find the dictator that you tore apart the country trying to get to, that you may as well pick up whatever Styrofoam brick he may be hiding under, drop a grenade in, and badda boom badda bing, game over. But of course, don’t blame any of this on old Dubya. This week he was quoted as saying in a meeting before the war began “Oh, no, we’re not going to have any casualties.”
In Hussein’s trial, they can’t really charge him with possession of WMDs, for obvious reasons, but he will be charged with the gassing of ethnic Kurds and for the invasion of Kuwait. Using illegal weapons and invading countries for their oil resources? Wow. That doesn’t sound familiar at all.
Well everyone in Canada had a collective conniption fit last week when they found out that Don Cherry had made it onto CBC’s final top ten list on The Greatest Canadian, to which he responded “I love it when we get those left-wingers going.” Smooth Don, smooth. In fact the entire top 100 was an odd mix. Numbers 1 through 17 were all white men and only six women made it into the top 50. The white male parade was ended at number 18, not by a Canadian woman who has made relevant difference in the world like Louise Arbour (#97) or Emily Murphy (#74), but rather, by Shania Twain. There was not even a hint of any ethnicity until Tecumseh, a native-Canadian who helped repel American attacks in 1812, weighed in at # 37. This, however, is not an example of the media blatantly ignoring ethnic groups or women; this list wasn’t even made up by the CBC. The candidates were nominated and voted on BY CANADIANS. So everyone that was freaking out were really just a bunch of hypocrites. This vote is perhaps little more than a sad narrative to our own opinions and lack of knowledge as to what a “great Canadian” is. I have no idea how Pamela Anderson trumps Glenn Gould or Roberta Bondar nor how Nellie McClung, the woman who fought for woman’s rights and the franchise to vote, was bested by Stompin’ Tom Connors. I don’t even know how Brian Mulroney, Bret Hart or William Shatner made it to the list at all. On a brighter note, Mr. Dressup did make it to the list in 36th spot, well ahead of former Prime Ministers Sir Wilfred Laurier, Jean Chrétien and John Diefenbaker.
I think residents of the new Brown’s Court apartments may wish to re-consider their habit of crossing University Avenue wherever the hell they feel like it. I mean sure, pedestrians have the right of way in most situations, but when I am in a 1000 pound vehicle that’s doing about 80, the laws of physics kind of specify that the car has a fairly good advantage, especially when drivers cannot see students sprinting between vehicles. Is it really that difficult to get up 45 seconds earlier in the morning so that you have time to walk to the crosswalk at the lights? That crosswalk, by the way, was put in place a few years back after a student was hit by a car and killed. Do we have to wait until that happens again before we stop being dumb asses?
According to several media outlets, the days of the US Ambassador to Canada, Paul Celucci, are numbered. Celucci has become an out-spoken diplomat in Ottawa, criticizing Canada for not going to war in Iraq, complaining about Canada’s lack of help after September 11th, disapproving Canadian review of policy on marijuana laws and deriding indecision about the proposed missile defence program. Let me be the first to say: Get out of my face Paul. He apparently didn’t get the memo that ambassadors are supposed to be diplomats, not liaisons with political agendas; not many people really gave a damn with what he has to say about stuff that he doesn’t understand anyway. Celucci, a former governor, will likely run for the Senate after leaving the US Embassy in Ottawa. Good luck and good riddance Paul. They deserve you.
Myron’s has declared Wednesday night Holland College Night. Say what? I mean I wouldn’t be caught dead down at Moron’s on a Wednesday anyway, but why a Holland College night? So what if they don’t have their own bar? Neither do those poor students at the Academy of Learning and Compu College. Where the hell are they supposed to drink? Out on the street? Those jerks. Well they can keep their damn Discrimination Wednesdays to themselves, I’ll keep my trivia with Matt and Lenny thanks.
Finally, our sports editor landed in some hot water and became the target of the ire of the entire UPEI Field Hockey team after writing an article that they perceived as portraying their sport in a negative light. As an employee of The Cadre, I feel it is my duty to stand up in his time of need and say: “You’re on your own man.” I have my own controversies to deal with, and pissing off a bunch of girls with big sticks is not my idea of a good time. Now I hear they want you to come out to a practice to see what you’re made of. Lucky you. Shave your legs and strap on those cleats man. You better wear a cup too.
Have a good one!
Tuesday, October 19, 2004
...And now for something completely different: The Rants of a University Student (#13)
Well the journalistic geniuses at Magic 93 have done it again, using the cunning news reporting technique of ignoring whatever the hell it is that’s going on in the world, and pretending that Jumbo Movie Trivia and Paul Alan’s social life are the most important things on earth. This past Thursday, when every other self-respecting media organization was reporting the crash of a cargo plane in Halifax and the deaths of seven crewmembers, Paul was telling some incredibly amusing anecdote about his life, a life that is perpetually fascinating, being as it is that of a radio broadcaster. The crash issue was ignored completely, and the only time I heard anyone mention anything about an airplane was when Paul, again recounting moments from his über-exciting life, talked about how he had watched Lost on TV the night before. But who am I to judge? How can I expect Magic 93 to report every single little story? This is the same radio station that on September 11th disregarded the small little detail that terrorists were flying passenger jets into random buildings. To their credit however, they did report that: “Um…apparently flights are delayed or something…for some reason…Back to our incessant replaying of N*SYNC and Britney Spears right after this.”
Your prayers have been answered. Yes, sources tell me that now available for sale are, yes, you guessed it, PEI Rocket Thongs. Wicked. Now, does no one else see a problem with this? Perhaps something to do with ethics or morals or something? Now we all know that there are several people who follow the Rocket around to all their games and, dare I say, idolize the guys that play for them, and I mean, who wouldn’t, you know, with their to-die-for pick-up lines. (“Hey, you wanna be famous?) But I certainly don’t think that the marketing team of our friendly local sports team should be playing into this. Personally, correct me if I’m wrong, but the last time I checked, the objectification of women, specifically those under the age of 16, was not a commonly accepted business practice. But hey, those Rockets are good boys, I hear they’re always very well behaved and humble and are never confrontational, even when they’re drinking. (Not that I’m suggesting that they drink or anything) Nooooo. (Insert thick sarcasm here)
Just a random thought: does anyone know why the hell there is a meat market on University Avenue called the Queen Street Meat Market? That does not make any damn sense.
The CDP was torn down this week. In a few months a so-called “racino” will rise from the rubble of the historic building, creating a new place for Grandpa to go bet on the ponies and now, through the innovation of our wonderful government, will also have the option of gambling away his pension cheques on VLT machines. Now I’m not sure how many people, but it was Binns’ government that initially placed restrictions on how many VLTs could be in operation on the island, but I guess now they have reason to believe that VLTs provide great benefit to the community and the social fabric of PEI as well as contributing to the vibrant horseracing industry. Yeah? Bullshit. Either that or dreams of dollar signs danced in their heads. I hate to break it to the people involved, but horseracing is not struggling because we don’t have fancy racinos or VLTs or multi-million-dollar purses, it’s struggling because no one gives a rat’s ass about horseracing, save, of course, for four or five old men and the people that go to the Gold Cup and Saucer Race every year. All the VLTs in the world won’t change that.
Last year, the provincial government decided to give a million dollars to the horseracing industry to increase purse sizes and to spark interest. What did that do? Not a damn thing. (At the same time, government announced that it was cutting $750,000 in funding that had been promised to UPEI, due to “budgetary constraints.”) Now they want to increase the number of VLTs to increase revenue, a move made on the whim of racing industry lobbyists and the Atlantic Lottery Corporation. This is an irrational decision that will indisputably lead to an augmentation of the number of problem gamblers on the island. These same problems contribute to many social problems; broken families, chronic debt, increases in crime, and in comparison to other jurisdictions, numbers suggest that this problem alone will directly cause two suicides a year on PEI. Now does that sound like a government with its priorities in order? Money and gambling ahead of education and societal well being? I mean I’m sure we would all like our roads paved now and then, but when it comes to public policy, the ends do not always justify the means, especially when the means include cheapened morals, rising crime rates and death. I don’t know, again maybe it’s just me, but when a private corporation tells my government to jump, I’d rather hear them say “Piss off” than ask “How high?”
Reality TV pisses me off. Number one, it is not reality. Reality is me sitting here on my ass writing papers and studying and getting 3 hours of sleep. Flying around the world for free and eating bull testicles and cleaning other people’s houses is not. And trading wives? Yeah, we already invented that. It’s called BIGAMY. Don’t even get me started on The Apprentice. If “the Donald” wants to wear his hair à la rabid baboon, that’s fine by me. Go right ahead, hire people, fire people, I don’t care. But why on national television? And who watches this? I’m sorry, but is there not something possibly more meaningful that we could be doing with our lives? I’m sick of Jeff Probst and William Hung and Vanilla Ice and Sass Jordan and Mark Cuban and Joe Rogan and Swans and Idols and Bachelors and all those friggin idiots. Here’s a reality show for you, it’s called a reality check, and instead of spending millions being idiots and eating bugs and jumping off buildings and shit, you give the money to charities. Maybe do a show called Survivor: Hurricane Jeanne in Haiti, or Food Factor in Ethiopia or Who Wants to Win an AIDs Vaccine? in Zimbabwe. Seriously, can our society be that self involved that we’d rather watch Simon crush the dreams of some tone-deaf high-schooler than see people live to see tomorrow? Apparently so.
Finally, on par with D-Day and Christmas, this week marks the 128th anniversary of the first shipment of 857 bushels of wheat from Manitoba to eastern Canada. God bless those western Canadian jerks.
Have a good one!
Your prayers have been answered. Yes, sources tell me that now available for sale are, yes, you guessed it, PEI Rocket Thongs. Wicked. Now, does no one else see a problem with this? Perhaps something to do with ethics or morals or something? Now we all know that there are several people who follow the Rocket around to all their games and, dare I say, idolize the guys that play for them, and I mean, who wouldn’t, you know, with their to-die-for pick-up lines. (“Hey, you wanna be famous?) But I certainly don’t think that the marketing team of our friendly local sports team should be playing into this. Personally, correct me if I’m wrong, but the last time I checked, the objectification of women, specifically those under the age of 16, was not a commonly accepted business practice. But hey, those Rockets are good boys, I hear they’re always very well behaved and humble and are never confrontational, even when they’re drinking. (Not that I’m suggesting that they drink or anything) Nooooo. (Insert thick sarcasm here)
Just a random thought: does anyone know why the hell there is a meat market on University Avenue called the Queen Street Meat Market? That does not make any damn sense.
The CDP was torn down this week. In a few months a so-called “racino” will rise from the rubble of the historic building, creating a new place for Grandpa to go bet on the ponies and now, through the innovation of our wonderful government, will also have the option of gambling away his pension cheques on VLT machines. Now I’m not sure how many people, but it was Binns’ government that initially placed restrictions on how many VLTs could be in operation on the island, but I guess now they have reason to believe that VLTs provide great benefit to the community and the social fabric of PEI as well as contributing to the vibrant horseracing industry. Yeah? Bullshit. Either that or dreams of dollar signs danced in their heads. I hate to break it to the people involved, but horseracing is not struggling because we don’t have fancy racinos or VLTs or multi-million-dollar purses, it’s struggling because no one gives a rat’s ass about horseracing, save, of course, for four or five old men and the people that go to the Gold Cup and Saucer Race every year. All the VLTs in the world won’t change that.
Last year, the provincial government decided to give a million dollars to the horseracing industry to increase purse sizes and to spark interest. What did that do? Not a damn thing. (At the same time, government announced that it was cutting $750,000 in funding that had been promised to UPEI, due to “budgetary constraints.”) Now they want to increase the number of VLTs to increase revenue, a move made on the whim of racing industry lobbyists and the Atlantic Lottery Corporation. This is an irrational decision that will indisputably lead to an augmentation of the number of problem gamblers on the island. These same problems contribute to many social problems; broken families, chronic debt, increases in crime, and in comparison to other jurisdictions, numbers suggest that this problem alone will directly cause two suicides a year on PEI. Now does that sound like a government with its priorities in order? Money and gambling ahead of education and societal well being? I mean I’m sure we would all like our roads paved now and then, but when it comes to public policy, the ends do not always justify the means, especially when the means include cheapened morals, rising crime rates and death. I don’t know, again maybe it’s just me, but when a private corporation tells my government to jump, I’d rather hear them say “Piss off” than ask “How high?”
Reality TV pisses me off. Number one, it is not reality. Reality is me sitting here on my ass writing papers and studying and getting 3 hours of sleep. Flying around the world for free and eating bull testicles and cleaning other people’s houses is not. And trading wives? Yeah, we already invented that. It’s called BIGAMY. Don’t even get me started on The Apprentice. If “the Donald” wants to wear his hair à la rabid baboon, that’s fine by me. Go right ahead, hire people, fire people, I don’t care. But why on national television? And who watches this? I’m sorry, but is there not something possibly more meaningful that we could be doing with our lives? I’m sick of Jeff Probst and William Hung and Vanilla Ice and Sass Jordan and Mark Cuban and Joe Rogan and Swans and Idols and Bachelors and all those friggin idiots. Here’s a reality show for you, it’s called a reality check, and instead of spending millions being idiots and eating bugs and jumping off buildings and shit, you give the money to charities. Maybe do a show called Survivor: Hurricane Jeanne in Haiti, or Food Factor in Ethiopia or Who Wants to Win an AIDs Vaccine? in Zimbabwe. Seriously, can our society be that self involved that we’d rather watch Simon crush the dreams of some tone-deaf high-schooler than see people live to see tomorrow? Apparently so.
Finally, on par with D-Day and Christmas, this week marks the 128th anniversary of the first shipment of 857 bushels of wheat from Manitoba to eastern Canada. God bless those western Canadian jerks.
Have a good one!
Tuesday, October 12, 2004
...And now for something completely different: The Rants of a University Student (#12)
It was this week in 1977 that the Amazing Psychic Romark, through a public display of his incredible psychic power, attempted to drive a car blindfolded and would have been completely successful, had he not smashed into a parked police van. Idiot.
The Guardian reported this week that the Summerside man who barricaded himself in his house last August in an armed standoff with police was finally sentenced last week. For those of you who are from away or who don’t watch Live at 5, Summerside police went to the man’s house, whose name is, I am not making this up, Robert McRoberts, to speak with him regarding his failure to pay child support. The 51-year-old man came out onto his patio and told the deputy chief of police that he wasn’t coming out unless he came out “boots first.” I guess “boots first” is a bad thing, as that comment kicked off a 39-hour armed standoff and resulted in the evacuation of the entire residential area. So, basically, police went to McRoberts’ house to get him out of his house, and when said he didn’t want to come out of his house, they waited around his house with guns until they could force him out of his house. I guess McRoberts has the last laugh on this one however. His punishment for telling police he didn’t want to come out of his house? Nine months of house arrest. Chalk up another one for the fine individuals of the Summerside PD.
Well the Canadian Navy showed off our submarines’ incredible stealth and superior technology to the international community last week by… stranding one out off the coast of Ireland without power for a few days. Now I know what you’re thinking: “We have submarines?” Yes, astonishingly enough, we do. But only four. Plus they’re 24-year-old diesel subs, and are “technically” not “operational”; so don’t freak out too much. Now you’re thinking: “Hey, the Canadian Navy must be smart, spending what little money it does have on old subs that haven’t been used in decades.” I agree. Thumbs up to the Canadian Forces. Helicopters that don’t go up, submarines that don’t go down, and now thanks to those good old Brits, new and improved subs that also spontaneously burst into flame and kill the people that work on them. So Osama? Saddam? Who cares? Between being killed by our own equipment and our allies dropping bombs on us, who needs enemies?
Evidently the accuracy of my articles needs improvement. I was told in a letter fired off by a student last week that some of the points in my last article were incorrect. Well, let me the first to say: shut up. No no, just kidding, don’t get out the pitchforks just yet. Let me first defend myself by saying that most of my research consists of making things up. So the journalistic integrity of my articles amount to somewhere around jack, and as such, you can trust the info in them about as much as you can trust a George W. Bush speech or your average Fox News broadcast. May I remind you that this is the same reporter that spent an entire afternoon exploring thirty-odd bathrooms on campus so I could critique them, and who once advocated that we sell Quebec to the United States.
Having said that, I also have a problem with some stuff getting printed up in The Cadre. In the last issue, one of my counterparts, who I will not identify, other than to say that he’s a reporter and his name is Jon Smith (AKA “Hey! Isn’t that the name of the guy from ‘Pocahontas’?”) wrote an article criticizing UPEI and the city of Charlottetown. Who the hell does this guy think he is? I mean, sure, I’ve done my fair share of criticizing, but I’ll be damned if I’m gonna sit here and let some yahoo tell me that my UPEI is not ‘a GREAT small university’. Jerk. Anyone who knows anything knows that this is the best university in the Western hemisphere, and with the exception of Bluefield, is quite possibly the best school in the world. I rue the day that I have to trade the hallowed halls of the W.A. Murphy Student Centre for the corridors of some cold, impersonal graduate school and my professors and classmates who know me, for a bunch of uppity mainlanders. (Kidding. Put the pitchforks down. Or whatever it is that you mainlanders use for angry mobs.) I’ve been here three friggin’ years, and as I’m sure many of you can say, I’ve walked this campus on a -50° day. I’ve spent 15 hours straight in Kelley computer lab during the term paper rush, I’ve slept in Society Lounges, gone on my share of Pub Crawls and I live for Fajita Day. Hell, I’ve even ventured into the Music Building once or twice. Being a UPEI student, I think it’s awesome that the biggest problem we can find to complain about on a consistent basis is parking (or lack thereof) and those security jerks. I think it’s awesome that Cathy and Terri in the cafeteria know how I like my breakfast and that a good number of Accounting/Student Services/Library staff know pretty much every student by name. Now if that is not “a GREAT small university”, than I don’t know what the hell is. SMU or X or Dal or anyone else can shove it.
Now as far as his comments go about Charlottetown, I’m inclined to partially agree. But where else in the world do people still go nuts for Hootie and the Blowfish? And where else do old people have nothing better to talk about than whether or not Boomer is still wearing his shorts? Whether counted to its’ credit or to its’ faults, the most exciting thing to happen in Charlottetown, other than ‘Juan’ or ‘White Juan’ or whatever, was when some guy who called himself Loki 7 tried to blow up the Legislature, and even he failed miserably. (Coincidentally, Loki himself used to teach math at Bluefield.)
I guess this city hasn’t really been the same since they cancelled Compass and bulldozed “the house that Christmas threw up on” to build that new Shopper’s, but hey, we’ve still have Civic Nation in the BK parking lot, and who can resist the repulsive charm of a crowded night at Myron’s? Who doesn’t adore listening to Paul Alan and Anne MacCrae every morning on Magic 93? No wait. I hate them.
So what if our mass-transit system consists of a single bus? Or that there are only two or three possible answers to “what are you doing tonight”? And so what if the most famous people around here either play hockey, used to star on Soup to Nuts or have tried to blow up major buildings? Charlottetown, for now, is our city. Anyone who has taken over the downtown core on a Pub Crawl or has made their way down Kent Street 2:30 on a Sunday morning knows this. And, well, a couple years down the road we’ll all be off to the bigger and better, in some big city, foreign country or Tignish, so we might as well quit the complaining and party it up at Brown’s and cruise the Ave. while we can.
Take that Jon.
Happy Thanksgiving.
The Guardian reported this week that the Summerside man who barricaded himself in his house last August in an armed standoff with police was finally sentenced last week. For those of you who are from away or who don’t watch Live at 5, Summerside police went to the man’s house, whose name is, I am not making this up, Robert McRoberts, to speak with him regarding his failure to pay child support. The 51-year-old man came out onto his patio and told the deputy chief of police that he wasn’t coming out unless he came out “boots first.” I guess “boots first” is a bad thing, as that comment kicked off a 39-hour armed standoff and resulted in the evacuation of the entire residential area. So, basically, police went to McRoberts’ house to get him out of his house, and when said he didn’t want to come out of his house, they waited around his house with guns until they could force him out of his house. I guess McRoberts has the last laugh on this one however. His punishment for telling police he didn’t want to come out of his house? Nine months of house arrest. Chalk up another one for the fine individuals of the Summerside PD.
Well the Canadian Navy showed off our submarines’ incredible stealth and superior technology to the international community last week by… stranding one out off the coast of Ireland without power for a few days. Now I know what you’re thinking: “We have submarines?” Yes, astonishingly enough, we do. But only four. Plus they’re 24-year-old diesel subs, and are “technically” not “operational”; so don’t freak out too much. Now you’re thinking: “Hey, the Canadian Navy must be smart, spending what little money it does have on old subs that haven’t been used in decades.” I agree. Thumbs up to the Canadian Forces. Helicopters that don’t go up, submarines that don’t go down, and now thanks to those good old Brits, new and improved subs that also spontaneously burst into flame and kill the people that work on them. So Osama? Saddam? Who cares? Between being killed by our own equipment and our allies dropping bombs on us, who needs enemies?
Evidently the accuracy of my articles needs improvement. I was told in a letter fired off by a student last week that some of the points in my last article were incorrect. Well, let me the first to say: shut up. No no, just kidding, don’t get out the pitchforks just yet. Let me first defend myself by saying that most of my research consists of making things up. So the journalistic integrity of my articles amount to somewhere around jack, and as such, you can trust the info in them about as much as you can trust a George W. Bush speech or your average Fox News broadcast. May I remind you that this is the same reporter that spent an entire afternoon exploring thirty-odd bathrooms on campus so I could critique them, and who once advocated that we sell Quebec to the United States.
Having said that, I also have a problem with some stuff getting printed up in The Cadre. In the last issue, one of my counterparts, who I will not identify, other than to say that he’s a reporter and his name is Jon Smith (AKA “Hey! Isn’t that the name of the guy from ‘Pocahontas’?”) wrote an article criticizing UPEI and the city of Charlottetown. Who the hell does this guy think he is? I mean, sure, I’ve done my fair share of criticizing, but I’ll be damned if I’m gonna sit here and let some yahoo tell me that my UPEI is not ‘a GREAT small university’. Jerk. Anyone who knows anything knows that this is the best university in the Western hemisphere, and with the exception of Bluefield, is quite possibly the best school in the world. I rue the day that I have to trade the hallowed halls of the W.A. Murphy Student Centre for the corridors of some cold, impersonal graduate school and my professors and classmates who know me, for a bunch of uppity mainlanders. (Kidding. Put the pitchforks down. Or whatever it is that you mainlanders use for angry mobs.) I’ve been here three friggin’ years, and as I’m sure many of you can say, I’ve walked this campus on a -50° day. I’ve spent 15 hours straight in Kelley computer lab during the term paper rush, I’ve slept in Society Lounges, gone on my share of Pub Crawls and I live for Fajita Day. Hell, I’ve even ventured into the Music Building once or twice. Being a UPEI student, I think it’s awesome that the biggest problem we can find to complain about on a consistent basis is parking (or lack thereof) and those security jerks. I think it’s awesome that Cathy and Terri in the cafeteria know how I like my breakfast and that a good number of Accounting/Student Services/Library staff know pretty much every student by name. Now if that is not “a GREAT small university”, than I don’t know what the hell is. SMU or X or Dal or anyone else can shove it.
Now as far as his comments go about Charlottetown, I’m inclined to partially agree. But where else in the world do people still go nuts for Hootie and the Blowfish? And where else do old people have nothing better to talk about than whether or not Boomer is still wearing his shorts? Whether counted to its’ credit or to its’ faults, the most exciting thing to happen in Charlottetown, other than ‘Juan’ or ‘White Juan’ or whatever, was when some guy who called himself Loki 7 tried to blow up the Legislature, and even he failed miserably. (Coincidentally, Loki himself used to teach math at Bluefield.)
I guess this city hasn’t really been the same since they cancelled Compass and bulldozed “the house that Christmas threw up on” to build that new Shopper’s, but hey, we’ve still have Civic Nation in the BK parking lot, and who can resist the repulsive charm of a crowded night at Myron’s? Who doesn’t adore listening to Paul Alan and Anne MacCrae every morning on Magic 93? No wait. I hate them.
So what if our mass-transit system consists of a single bus? Or that there are only two or three possible answers to “what are you doing tonight”? And so what if the most famous people around here either play hockey, used to star on Soup to Nuts or have tried to blow up major buildings? Charlottetown, for now, is our city. Anyone who has taken over the downtown core on a Pub Crawl or has made their way down Kent Street 2:30 on a Sunday morning knows this. And, well, a couple years down the road we’ll all be off to the bigger and better, in some big city, foreign country or Tignish, so we might as well quit the complaining and party it up at Brown’s and cruise the Ave. while we can.
Take that Jon.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
...And now for something completely different: The Rants of a University Student (#11)
Well it appears as though the UPEI custodial staff were busy again this summer, once again putting up an incredible amount of signs, in attempts of aiding students in their everyday activities. If you’ve been in any bathrooms on campus, chances are you’ve already noticed the brilliant “Press slowly OR paper towel will JAM!” sign on every last paper towel dispenser. Sadly, the “In an effort to curb another outbreak of SARS, wash your hands” sign has been retired, but has been aptly replaced by a “Flush after use” sign on some of the toilets on campus. Just in case you happen to forget exactly how they operate.
That was quite a friggin summer wasn’t it? Yeah right. We had like what? Three beach days? Sweet. And now we’re back for another year on the coldest campus on the face of the earth. Not to mention home of the most intolerant and unforgiving security personnel this side of Beijing. Parking the old Saturn outside the gym at in the morning just ain’t what it used to be. And even after having paid a whole friggin dollar for an hour on the wonderful new parking meters, there was the good old security van that we all know and love at 8:55, two minutes after the time ran out, ticketing my ass once again. The worst part is though that my Dad recently got one of those new Canadian Forces veteran license plates put on the car. Who tickets a veteran? Honestly. Yeah yeah, I know, we’re all tired of people complaining about parking and security in ‘The Cadre’ and stuff, but I mean come on, this is a man that fought in some far-off country so that we could park wherever we damnwell pleased. Not so that some half-pint security guard could drive around in a cute little mini van and charge me $10 for two minutes of parking. What the hell is this world coming to anyway?
So yeah, a pretty crazy summer all around. The United States Judicial System broke with tradition and decided to actually send a celebrity to jail. Granted, it was just Martha Stewart. Yeah, that’s what we need to do, send the real menacing bastards to prison. Forget O.J. and Kobe and Wacko Jacko. They're just murderers, rapists and child molesters. But Martha, oh man, she screwed with their money. OoOoOoOo. Man were they caked at her. I guess money just ranks a little bit higher on the priority list than a real justice system.
And what about that American jerk-off that dropped the bombs on the Canadian soldiers a few years back? Do you know what sort of decisive punishment he received to make an example of soldiers like him that disobey direct orders and drops payloads of explosives on allied soldiers that flew half-way around the world to fight the US “War on Terror”? They took half of his salary away for two months. Wow. You punks better watch out! Next time you ‘accidentally’ kill a bunch of Canadians maybe we’ll take three quarters of your pay. That’s right. Don’t screw with us.
Let me put this in prospective for a minute here. Todd Bertuzzi was suspended for an undeterminable amount of time from playing NHL hockey and was fined the equivalent of $501,926.23 for his cheap shot on that Moore kid from Colorado, not to mention of course the media being at his throat for months. Major Harry Schmidt of the 183rd Illinois Air National Guard however, lost $5700.00 off his pay for dropping bombs on Canadian soldiers on a training course after being ordered NOT to drop anything and to get the hell out of there. Oh but sure, Bertuzzi’s hit was dirty and Moore wasn’t expecting a cheap shot from behind. Yeah well I doubt that the Canadian troops were really expecting a USAF plane to drop a couple 225 kg. bombs on them. Oh the poor pilot though, he must’ve got lost in the moment. Yeah, well we don’t accept that as an excuse for Bertuzzi, so why should it for Schmidt? Funny that the NHL would have a more comprehensive and suitable justice system than the American Armed Forces.
And finally, again following a totally logical story line, this week marks the 102nd anniversary of the Rocky Mountain Development Company striking oil in Alberta. Well, isn’t that special. If that doesn’t call for a Bud Light, I don’t know what does. Have a good week, keep your stick on the ice and keep flushing those damn toilets.
Have a good one!
That was quite a friggin summer wasn’t it? Yeah right. We had like what? Three beach days? Sweet. And now we’re back for another year on the coldest campus on the face of the earth. Not to mention home of the most intolerant and unforgiving security personnel this side of Beijing. Parking the old Saturn outside the gym at in the morning just ain’t what it used to be. And even after having paid a whole friggin dollar for an hour on the wonderful new parking meters, there was the good old security van that we all know and love at 8:55, two minutes after the time ran out, ticketing my ass once again. The worst part is though that my Dad recently got one of those new Canadian Forces veteran license plates put on the car. Who tickets a veteran? Honestly. Yeah yeah, I know, we’re all tired of people complaining about parking and security in ‘The Cadre’ and stuff, but I mean come on, this is a man that fought in some far-off country so that we could park wherever we damnwell pleased. Not so that some half-pint security guard could drive around in a cute little mini van and charge me $10 for two minutes of parking. What the hell is this world coming to anyway?
So yeah, a pretty crazy summer all around. The United States Judicial System broke with tradition and decided to actually send a celebrity to jail. Granted, it was just Martha Stewart. Yeah, that’s what we need to do, send the real menacing bastards to prison. Forget O.J. and Kobe and Wacko Jacko. They're just murderers, rapists and child molesters. But Martha, oh man, she screwed with their money. OoOoOoOo. Man were they caked at her. I guess money just ranks a little bit higher on the priority list than a real justice system.
And what about that American jerk-off that dropped the bombs on the Canadian soldiers a few years back? Do you know what sort of decisive punishment he received to make an example of soldiers like him that disobey direct orders and drops payloads of explosives on allied soldiers that flew half-way around the world to fight the US “War on Terror”? They took half of his salary away for two months. Wow. You punks better watch out! Next time you ‘accidentally’ kill a bunch of Canadians maybe we’ll take three quarters of your pay. That’s right. Don’t screw with us.
Let me put this in prospective for a minute here. Todd Bertuzzi was suspended for an undeterminable amount of time from playing NHL hockey and was fined the equivalent of $501,926.23 for his cheap shot on that Moore kid from Colorado, not to mention of course the media being at his throat for months. Major Harry Schmidt of the 183rd Illinois Air National Guard however, lost $5700.00 off his pay for dropping bombs on Canadian soldiers on a training course after being ordered NOT to drop anything and to get the hell out of there. Oh but sure, Bertuzzi’s hit was dirty and Moore wasn’t expecting a cheap shot from behind. Yeah well I doubt that the Canadian troops were really expecting a USAF plane to drop a couple 225 kg. bombs on them. Oh the poor pilot though, he must’ve got lost in the moment. Yeah, well we don’t accept that as an excuse for Bertuzzi, so why should it for Schmidt? Funny that the NHL would have a more comprehensive and suitable justice system than the American Armed Forces.
And finally, again following a totally logical story line, this week marks the 102nd anniversary of the Rocky Mountain Development Company striking oil in Alberta. Well, isn’t that special. If that doesn’t call for a Bud Light, I don’t know what does. Have a good week, keep your stick on the ice and keep flushing those damn toilets.
Have a good one!
Tuesday, April 06, 2004
...And now for something completely different: A University Student's Guide to Drinking (#10)
(by Ryan Gallant and Adam Carragher)
...And suddenly, it’s that time of year again. Students, either out of celebration, sheer desperation, or just as an escape from the inevitable final exams, flock to the doors of their faithful pubs to meet with friends, to talk quietly (albeit incoherently) over a few drinks, or to drink to the point that they forget who they are, what they have been doing for the past few hours, and why they are making out with some random person in an abandoned alley adjacent to Myron’s. Whether you enjoy the occasional drink yourself, or would rather just watch other people make idiots of themselves, drinking is an integral part of a university student’s life, a way for the late-paper depressed and the final exam-stressed student to kick off his or her proverbial boots and to have a good time. Given our extensive experience in this particular field, we, Adam Carragher and Ryan Gallant, the authors that brought you such infamous articles as ‘The Bathroom Edition I & II’, have decided to write an article on alcohol and it’s effects on the average member of the UPEI student body. I think that Homer Simpson put it best when he declared, "Beer: The cause of, and solution to, all of life’s problems." And so to this, our wonderful friend, our despised enemy, we highlight the great things it has done, and the idiots that it brings out.
1) The Emotional Drunk: This is your average recent break-up, the lost dog or the failed course. This could be someone you’ve never spoken to in your life, but someone who, through the influence of alcohol, feels compelled to share his/her life story with you, a story most certainly racked with tragedy and with helpful doses of nostalgia. Contrary to what you may believe, this is when this person is the most honest. Most of what any emotional drunk says is the honest-to-God truth. Warning: It is not permissible to use these revelations against them on Monday. Just listen up and take notes. How to deal: A hug or a pat on the back and a sincere "Everything will be alright" usually does the trick. If you want, they can often use a shoulder to cry on as well.
2) The Socialite: He/she is everybody’s best friend. They could have been in one of your classes back in high school, or maybe you went to camp with them back when you were 7, but you are now their long lost buddy. Everyone gets a handshake (though anything other than a high five is often too elaborate for those inebriated), a hug, or even a kiss. Bathroom conversation, usually taboo (in the men’s washroom anyway), suddenly becomes a grand show of comradery. "Hey! You’re my neighbour’s friend from Biology 101's cousin!" "HEY! No I’m not! But who cares?!" High fives all around. These people make everyone’s night that much better, either by their stumbling around like a moron down Kent Street or around Brown’s Court with no known destination, other than to the next new best friend that they’re about to meet. How to deal: Just smile and nod, and let them have their fun.
3) The False Start: This is a trooper. Someone who has fought the battle well, but has ultimately lost. This is your typical chugger, someone who does not know the meaning of the phrase "cut off." For a minute there, this person is king of the world, running the race and winning. They’re social and interesting, perhaps a bit overambitious in terms of intake, but they seem alright. And then suddenly, it’s K.O., flat on their face and out for the night. By the time they wake up, often in a flower bed or a pizza box, everyone’s gone home, the party’s over, and the pounding of the previous night’s music has taken up residence in their head. Perhaps it was exclusive only to Bluefield, but these are the people who were found half in and half out of the tent, often with parts of their sneakers burnt, or was the guy who always wound up in the middle of some farmer’s field, missing some key articles of clothing. How to deal: Clothe the naked, feed the hungry. Shave an eyebrow? Optional.
4) Ten Feet Tall and Bullet-Proof (T.F.T.B.P.): Ever hear that song "Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better?" Yeah, well so did this one, and they actually think that it applies directly to them. They can dance better, run faster and fight tougher than anyone on earth. They are obviously drop dead sexy and 10x more charming when they’re drunk, a fact that they enjoy showing off by throwing snowballs at cops or by telling hilarious jokes, often recounting the same ones 10-12 consecutive times. How to deal: They are the best there has ever been or ever will be at anything and everything in the world. Don’t bother telling them any different. They will not believe you.
And finally:
5) The Horny Bastard: This is your ass-grabber and the cheesy pick-up line user. They may have had a crush on you for awhile, or perhaps their alcohol-induced state has just changed their perception. They think you’re hot, and they don’t mind telling you this. Perhaps normally the shy and subdued type, this person often loses many of their inhibitions, with varying results. They often have interesting stories to hear about themselves the next day. How to deal: Tell them you’re not interested. Unless of course you are. If all else fails, a good punch in the face or a kick to the groin usually goes a long way to bringing them back to reality.
And so, as we leave our school for another year, perhaps this time forever, let us remember to embrace the good times, to learn from the bad, and whenever possible, to raise a glass in celebration of another year gone, another course earned, and another summer break in the company of friends.
Drink Responsibly.
Have a good one!
...And suddenly, it’s that time of year again. Students, either out of celebration, sheer desperation, or just as an escape from the inevitable final exams, flock to the doors of their faithful pubs to meet with friends, to talk quietly (albeit incoherently) over a few drinks, or to drink to the point that they forget who they are, what they have been doing for the past few hours, and why they are making out with some random person in an abandoned alley adjacent to Myron’s. Whether you enjoy the occasional drink yourself, or would rather just watch other people make idiots of themselves, drinking is an integral part of a university student’s life, a way for the late-paper depressed and the final exam-stressed student to kick off his or her proverbial boots and to have a good time. Given our extensive experience in this particular field, we, Adam Carragher and Ryan Gallant, the authors that brought you such infamous articles as ‘The Bathroom Edition I & II’, have decided to write an article on alcohol and it’s effects on the average member of the UPEI student body. I think that Homer Simpson put it best when he declared, "Beer: The cause of, and solution to, all of life’s problems." And so to this, our wonderful friend, our despised enemy, we highlight the great things it has done, and the idiots that it brings out.
1) The Emotional Drunk: This is your average recent break-up, the lost dog or the failed course. This could be someone you’ve never spoken to in your life, but someone who, through the influence of alcohol, feels compelled to share his/her life story with you, a story most certainly racked with tragedy and with helpful doses of nostalgia. Contrary to what you may believe, this is when this person is the most honest. Most of what any emotional drunk says is the honest-to-God truth. Warning: It is not permissible to use these revelations against them on Monday. Just listen up and take notes. How to deal: A hug or a pat on the back and a sincere "Everything will be alright" usually does the trick. If you want, they can often use a shoulder to cry on as well.
2) The Socialite: He/she is everybody’s best friend. They could have been in one of your classes back in high school, or maybe you went to camp with them back when you were 7, but you are now their long lost buddy. Everyone gets a handshake (though anything other than a high five is often too elaborate for those inebriated), a hug, or even a kiss. Bathroom conversation, usually taboo (in the men’s washroom anyway), suddenly becomes a grand show of comradery. "Hey! You’re my neighbour’s friend from Biology 101's cousin!" "HEY! No I’m not! But who cares?!" High fives all around. These people make everyone’s night that much better, either by their stumbling around like a moron down Kent Street or around Brown’s Court with no known destination, other than to the next new best friend that they’re about to meet. How to deal: Just smile and nod, and let them have their fun.
3) The False Start: This is a trooper. Someone who has fought the battle well, but has ultimately lost. This is your typical chugger, someone who does not know the meaning of the phrase "cut off." For a minute there, this person is king of the world, running the race and winning. They’re social and interesting, perhaps a bit overambitious in terms of intake, but they seem alright. And then suddenly, it’s K.O., flat on their face and out for the night. By the time they wake up, often in a flower bed or a pizza box, everyone’s gone home, the party’s over, and the pounding of the previous night’s music has taken up residence in their head. Perhaps it was exclusive only to Bluefield, but these are the people who were found half in and half out of the tent, often with parts of their sneakers burnt, or was the guy who always wound up in the middle of some farmer’s field, missing some key articles of clothing. How to deal: Clothe the naked, feed the hungry. Shave an eyebrow? Optional.
4) Ten Feet Tall and Bullet-Proof (T.F.T.B.P.): Ever hear that song "Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better?" Yeah, well so did this one, and they actually think that it applies directly to them. They can dance better, run faster and fight tougher than anyone on earth. They are obviously drop dead sexy and 10x more charming when they’re drunk, a fact that they enjoy showing off by throwing snowballs at cops or by telling hilarious jokes, often recounting the same ones 10-12 consecutive times. How to deal: They are the best there has ever been or ever will be at anything and everything in the world. Don’t bother telling them any different. They will not believe you.
And finally:
5) The Horny Bastard: This is your ass-grabber and the cheesy pick-up line user. They may have had a crush on you for awhile, or perhaps their alcohol-induced state has just changed their perception. They think you’re hot, and they don’t mind telling you this. Perhaps normally the shy and subdued type, this person often loses many of their inhibitions, with varying results. They often have interesting stories to hear about themselves the next day. How to deal: Tell them you’re not interested. Unless of course you are. If all else fails, a good punch in the face or a kick to the groin usually goes a long way to bringing them back to reality.
And so, as we leave our school for another year, perhaps this time forever, let us remember to embrace the good times, to learn from the bad, and whenever possible, to raise a glass in celebration of another year gone, another course earned, and another summer break in the company of friends.
Drink Responsibly.
Have a good one!
Tuesday, March 30, 2004
...And now for something completely different: The Rants of a University Student (#08)
Oh look. It’s spring! The birds are ‘chirping’ and the leaves are budding. Hold on a sec there Boomer. Uh, no they’re not. I don’t know why the Weather Network insists on calling it spring, but personally, three feet of snow in my back yard and minus a billion degree weather does not constitute hauling out the lawn chairs and the old slip-and-slide. As a popular PEI joke puts it, we have 4 unconventional seasons, Almost Winter, Winter, Still Winter and Construction. I’m no groundhog, but my bet is on a few more weeks of the former.
Todd Bertuzzi. Sigh. Really now, how many people in the media actually knew who he was before he hit Steve Moore? Forget that he’s an awesome hockey player and an all-around nice guy, I guess it takes a cheap hit nowadays to get any attention.
And what the hell is Regis Philbin doing flipping out about this? He’s probably never seen a hockey game in his life, he certainly never paid attention or talked about hockey before, and I doubt that he bothered to do some background research on the game or on Bertuzzi before he land basted him on his show. Listen Reg you don’t know what you’re talking about. Do us all a favor and stick to what you know, namely being an idiot and giving money away. CNN jumped on the bandwagon too, taking a break from spewing out propaganda to take a hit at Bertuzzi "The Goon." That’s the thing though, he’s not a goon. He’s a leading scorer in the NHL. He’s been an All-Star the last three years running. Sure, he’s 245 pounds and you don’t want that riding your back onto the ice, but the fact is, he made one bad decision in attempts to avenge Moore’s hit on Canuck’s captain Marcus Naslund. He deserves the suspension he got, but that does not automatically make him Adolf Hitler. One of the women on The View went as far as to compare what Bertuzzi did to Moore to the Vietnam War. THE VIETNAM WAR. Yeah. Pretty much the same thing. Three million dead versus a hockey players cracked bone. Wow. That’s not insensitive towards the people of Vietnam now is it? The View is stupider than I thought. And for all of you that are wondering, with all the over-blown reports of a "ruined life" and "near-death," Moore is expected to be back in his skate
Todd Bertuzzi. Sigh. Really now, how many people in the media actually knew who he was before he hit Steve Moore? Forget that he’s an awesome hockey player and an all-around nice guy, I guess it takes a cheap hit nowadays to get any attention.
And what the hell is Regis Philbin doing flipping out about this? He’s probably never seen a hockey game in his life, he certainly never paid attention or talked about hockey before, and I doubt that he bothered to do some background research on the game or on Bertuzzi before he land basted him on his show. Listen Reg you don’t know what you’re talking about. Do us all a favor and stick to what you know, namely being an idiot and giving money away. CNN jumped on the bandwagon too, taking a break from spewing out propaganda to take a hit at Bertuzzi "The Goon." That’s the thing though, he’s not a goon. He’s a leading scorer in the NHL. He’s been an All-Star the last three years running. Sure, he’s 245 pounds and you don’t want that riding your back onto the ice, but the fact is, he made one bad decision in attempts to avenge Moore’s hit on Canuck’s captain Marcus Naslund. He deserves the suspension he got, but that does not automatically make him Adolf Hitler. One of the women on The View went as far as to compare what Bertuzzi did to Moore to the Vietnam War. THE VIETNAM WAR. Yeah. Pretty much the same thing. Three million dead versus a hockey players cracked bone. Wow. That’s not insensitive towards the people of Vietnam now is it? The View is stupider than I thought. And for all of you that are wondering, with all the over-blown reports of a "ruined life" and "near-death," Moore is expected to be back in his skate
Monday, March 29, 2004
...And now for something completely different: The Rants of a University Student (#09)
First of all, right to the most important news of the week: one headline in the perpetually accurate pages of the über-proffessional PEI Guardian read: Tignish tackles roaming sheep problem. Well it’s about damn time. Those menacing sheep have been terrorizing the good people of the West Prince region for far too long. It is good to see that PEI has finally become such an advanced society. If anyone saw the debate on bootleggers last week on Canada Now they know exactly what I’m talking about. Mediator Bruce Rainie: “Should bootleggers be banned on PEI?” Sporadic audience response: “NO!”
Since the UPEI Student Union announced that the PEI government could be reneging on a campaign promise to fund UPEI with an additional $1,000,000, a move that could see tuition sky-rocket next year, it has been discovered that the provincial government will not be cutting million-dollar funding to all organizations in Minister Mitch Murphy’s budget. Well yes, funding to UPEI will be cut, seeing as we’re not relevant to the economy at all and as the money has to go to more important places. Government sources have confirmed that $1,000,000 in funding will go ahead as planned to harness racing. Yes, we are being bested by a bunch of horsies. The money will contribute to race purses and the like so that Grandpa can keep betting on the ponies and gambling away his pension cheques away. Meanwhile students will be out this week after the budget looking for a third job to supplement their education. It’s nice to see where this government’s priorities are. And it’s not just tuition hikes that piss me off either. There are tons of things we could do with a million bucks. For starters, we could invest in a new door for the Student Centre. You know, on that doesn’t screw up every damn day. Secondly, the Sports Centre hasn’t had squash balls or badminton birdies for about a month now. Maybe a million dollars could help them out, because it seems as though our fees that we spend on the gm aren’t enough to afford a sustainable supply of $3 squash balls. Our road has a few potholes in it too. Of course by a few I mean about 16 billion. They’re getting pretty difficult to drive on, and maybe that just me, given my habit of navigating them at 120 kph, but I think we should maybe look at getting them fixed. Countries like Iraq make fun of roads like this you know. And maybe after that we could look at trying to rid Blanchard of the mice in the walls and Steele of the birds in the roof.
Sheik Ahmed Yassin, founder and religious leader of the Palestinian terrorist group Hamas was assassinated last week by the Israeli military, sparking international debate and creating an even more volatile climate in the Middle East. Yassin was a quadriplegic who had been confined to a wheelchair since the age of twelve and in recent years had suffered from muscular atrophy and almost complete blindness. Typical to the well-planned precision and covert strategy characteristic of most assassinations, Yassin was assassinated when an Israeli helicopter snuck up on him and fired three missiles at him. Three missiles. That’s like going fishing with depth charges. Come on now. I know he was a bad guy and everything, but I’m sire poison in his food or exploding cigars would have done the job just as well. Because, you know, nothing says subtle like a tomahawk missile to the head. I must commend them on their intelligence work also. According to their records, Yassin was born in either 1929 or 1938. Way to narrow it down! Morons.
Speaking of explosive situations (haha), apparently some of my comments in the Bathroom Edition Part II have been deemed as controversial and have pissed off some of the fine music students here at UPEI who have expressed a special interest in obtaining my head on proverbial silver platter. How my suggestion that they spend a lot of time in their building could possibly be misconstrued as an attempt by me to insult these good people is beyond my comprehension. I am sure that Steele is a wonderful building once you get to know it, and that eventually the faults of the bathrooms and the random caskets in the hallways just become like comforts of a home.
Regardless of this fact however, given that many music students have been offended by my comments, I feel that it is my duty as an objective journalist to hereby solemnly apologize for the grievous and regrettable plain and anguish that I have thoughtlessly and cruelly imposed upon them by publishing my horrendous opinions.
I hope that this clears up and division that my comments may have created between myself and my good friends of Steele Recital Hall. Please feel free to share any further concerns with me personally. That is, if you ever leave your building.
Have a good one!
Since the UPEI Student Union announced that the PEI government could be reneging on a campaign promise to fund UPEI with an additional $1,000,000, a move that could see tuition sky-rocket next year, it has been discovered that the provincial government will not be cutting million-dollar funding to all organizations in Minister Mitch Murphy’s budget. Well yes, funding to UPEI will be cut, seeing as we’re not relevant to the economy at all and as the money has to go to more important places. Government sources have confirmed that $1,000,000 in funding will go ahead as planned to harness racing. Yes, we are being bested by a bunch of horsies. The money will contribute to race purses and the like so that Grandpa can keep betting on the ponies and gambling away his pension cheques away. Meanwhile students will be out this week after the budget looking for a third job to supplement their education. It’s nice to see where this government’s priorities are. And it’s not just tuition hikes that piss me off either. There are tons of things we could do with a million bucks. For starters, we could invest in a new door for the Student Centre. You know, on that doesn’t screw up every damn day. Secondly, the Sports Centre hasn’t had squash balls or badminton birdies for about a month now. Maybe a million dollars could help them out, because it seems as though our fees that we spend on the gm aren’t enough to afford a sustainable supply of $3 squash balls. Our road has a few potholes in it too. Of course by a few I mean about 16 billion. They’re getting pretty difficult to drive on, and maybe that just me, given my habit of navigating them at 120 kph, but I think we should maybe look at getting them fixed. Countries like Iraq make fun of roads like this you know. And maybe after that we could look at trying to rid Blanchard of the mice in the walls and Steele of the birds in the roof.
Sheik Ahmed Yassin, founder and religious leader of the Palestinian terrorist group Hamas was assassinated last week by the Israeli military, sparking international debate and creating an even more volatile climate in the Middle East. Yassin was a quadriplegic who had been confined to a wheelchair since the age of twelve and in recent years had suffered from muscular atrophy and almost complete blindness. Typical to the well-planned precision and covert strategy characteristic of most assassinations, Yassin was assassinated when an Israeli helicopter snuck up on him and fired three missiles at him. Three missiles. That’s like going fishing with depth charges. Come on now. I know he was a bad guy and everything, but I’m sire poison in his food or exploding cigars would have done the job just as well. Because, you know, nothing says subtle like a tomahawk missile to the head. I must commend them on their intelligence work also. According to their records, Yassin was born in either 1929 or 1938. Way to narrow it down! Morons.
Speaking of explosive situations (haha), apparently some of my comments in the Bathroom Edition Part II have been deemed as controversial and have pissed off some of the fine music students here at UPEI who have expressed a special interest in obtaining my head on proverbial silver platter. How my suggestion that they spend a lot of time in their building could possibly be misconstrued as an attempt by me to insult these good people is beyond my comprehension. I am sure that Steele is a wonderful building once you get to know it, and that eventually the faults of the bathrooms and the random caskets in the hallways just become like comforts of a home.
Regardless of this fact however, given that many music students have been offended by my comments, I feel that it is my duty as an objective journalist to hereby solemnly apologize for the grievous and regrettable plain and anguish that I have thoughtlessly and cruelly imposed upon them by publishing my horrendous opinions.
I hope that this clears up and division that my comments may have created between myself and my good friends of Steele Recital Hall. Please feel free to share any further concerns with me personally. That is, if you ever leave your building.
Have a good one!
Tuesday, March 09, 2004
...And now for something completely different: The Bathroom Edition - Part II (#07)
(by Ryan Gallant and Adam Carragher)
Embarking on the inspection of more bathrooms, we didn’t really know what to expect from Steele Recital Hall. Admittedly, Adam and I have not made a habit of going into this building. In fact, prior to conducting our survey, we had entered Steele a grand total of, well, once, and that was back in High School. Steele is like the black-hole of UPEI or something. We saw students in there that we have never met, or at least have not seen in years. If we don’t receive hate-mail following this scathing report of Steele’s bathrooms, I bet that it is only because Music students have never heard of The Cadre, and likely are only vaguely aware that they are a part of UPEI.
Anyhow, we did venture into Steele, receiving many hostile looks that are obviously reserved especially for us ‘outsiders,’ and had a great deal of difficulty in even finding bathrooms. We were, however, able to locate a men’s washroom in a narrow hallway on the third floor, but only after passing, and I am not making this up, a casket in the corridor. Now I assume women are expected to "hold it in" as no facilities for them were anywhere to be seen, and given the state of this bathroom, perhaps guys will opt to hold it in as well. This bathroom, is pretty damn scary. First of all you’re not allowed to touch the light switch. A sign states this clearly, and with an abundance of caskets on hand, I wouldn’t mess with these people. The freaky instrumental music wafting through the walls and the holes where someone attacked the stall with a knife does not help. I have no idea why someone would take it upon themselves to stab a bathroom stall. My guess is that either someone is not entirely pleased with their decision to enter into a liberal arts program, or perhaps some crazed member of the custodial staff was pissed off that someone had touched his light switch. Other than that, this bathroom wasn’t all that bad, if you ignore the tiles falling apart on the floor, the window that does not open, and the toilets that flush completely at random. We got the hell out of there as fast as we could.
Stepping into the bathrooms of Kelley was like entering the bathroom of Willy Wonka himself, save for the absense of oopa-loompas. It was designed entirely in blue and is apparently stuck in a period sometime around 1965. Random holes in the wall complement the uni-colour motif of this ancient bathroom, as does the rust that ravages the stalls. I estimate that someone may have cleaned the floor sometime around 1972, but the floors have pretty much gone to waste since then. We thought that the chalkboard beside the urinals was kind of unsettling. Were classes actually taught in these facilities? Oh to be young in the 60s with all their crazy bathroom concepts, this one obviously conceived by lack of intelligence and excessive drug use.
Many students asked us to inspect Duffy’s bathrooms, and for good reason. They smell. Bad. We didn’t go into any girls bathrooms, but we’re told they are disgusting. The 3rd floor men’s washroom is missing lights, tiles, and key amenities, like soap. The designer of this bathroom was apparently colour-blind, and whoever built the counter lacks the most basic of carpentry skills. Adam said that this was easily the worst sink he had ever seen in his life. What this bathroom lacks in intelligent colour scheme, it makes up for with excessive amounts of dirt and rust accumulated in the sink. The oddest feature is the mirror, which is not located in its traditional position above the sink, but is rather unstrategically placed 10 feet down the wall towards the urinals. Those science student may be smart, but they sure as hell can’t design a bathroom.
We’ve received many complaints about many bathrooms on our travels, "Don’t you hate when people are drunk and they can’t aim and they puke in the bathroom at ‘The Wave’?" Uh yeah. Gross. "Have you ever noticed how bad Cass bathrooms smell? What’s the deal with those Engineering students anyway?" Yes, we were there, and no, we don’t know what the deal is with those engineering students.
The point is, it seems everyone has something to say on this issue. So if you have some complaint you’d like to add about bathrooms, or if you would rather that I just shut up about them, check the email address at the end of the column and make sure you let us know how you feel.
Since the first bathroom column was published, we have received mail from students who claim that they know what the worst bathroom is. I assure you, however, that you have no idea what you are talking about. Ladies and Gentlemen, I bring you Dalton Hall basement. This bathroom is the worst bathroom we have ever seen, and that’s saying a lot seeing as we both grew up in the sticks. I am confident that the technology and fixtures in this bathroom went up with the building when it was built back in 1914 and when it was built, it was done so with the smallest amount of effort possible. The bathroom, first of all, is hard to find. Its concrete floor was painted gray at some point, but has been chipping away for years. The single stall is made of plywood, yes, plywood, and contains a single broken toilet, complete with its own plunger and a handwritten sign telling users not to flush too much stuff down the toilet. The low ceiling has exposed pipes and wires hanging from it, and the single urinal comes complete with a drop bucket underneath it to collect any leaks. The exposed water pipe has been insulated with electrical tape, styrofoam and tinfoil. Multiple bottles are strewn around, including one spray bottle that is marked "Speedball." This is just one sight you’ll have to see for yourself. Although we had seen a lot of bad stuff in a lot of bathrooms, it was the bathroom in Dalton’s basement that we almost pissed ourselves laughing. In fact, I think both of us would have rather pissed ourselves laughing than be forced to utilize the facilities in this sad excuse for a washroom. Ugh.
Have a good one!
Embarking on the inspection of more bathrooms, we didn’t really know what to expect from Steele Recital Hall. Admittedly, Adam and I have not made a habit of going into this building. In fact, prior to conducting our survey, we had entered Steele a grand total of, well, once, and that was back in High School. Steele is like the black-hole of UPEI or something. We saw students in there that we have never met, or at least have not seen in years. If we don’t receive hate-mail following this scathing report of Steele’s bathrooms, I bet that it is only because Music students have never heard of The Cadre, and likely are only vaguely aware that they are a part of UPEI.
Anyhow, we did venture into Steele, receiving many hostile looks that are obviously reserved especially for us ‘outsiders,’ and had a great deal of difficulty in even finding bathrooms. We were, however, able to locate a men’s washroom in a narrow hallway on the third floor, but only after passing, and I am not making this up, a casket in the corridor. Now I assume women are expected to "hold it in" as no facilities for them were anywhere to be seen, and given the state of this bathroom, perhaps guys will opt to hold it in as well. This bathroom, is pretty damn scary. First of all you’re not allowed to touch the light switch. A sign states this clearly, and with an abundance of caskets on hand, I wouldn’t mess with these people. The freaky instrumental music wafting through the walls and the holes where someone attacked the stall with a knife does not help. I have no idea why someone would take it upon themselves to stab a bathroom stall. My guess is that either someone is not entirely pleased with their decision to enter into a liberal arts program, or perhaps some crazed member of the custodial staff was pissed off that someone had touched his light switch. Other than that, this bathroom wasn’t all that bad, if you ignore the tiles falling apart on the floor, the window that does not open, and the toilets that flush completely at random. We got the hell out of there as fast as we could.
Stepping into the bathrooms of Kelley was like entering the bathroom of Willy Wonka himself, save for the absense of oopa-loompas. It was designed entirely in blue and is apparently stuck in a period sometime around 1965. Random holes in the wall complement the uni-colour motif of this ancient bathroom, as does the rust that ravages the stalls. I estimate that someone may have cleaned the floor sometime around 1972, but the floors have pretty much gone to waste since then. We thought that the chalkboard beside the urinals was kind of unsettling. Were classes actually taught in these facilities? Oh to be young in the 60s with all their crazy bathroom concepts, this one obviously conceived by lack of intelligence and excessive drug use.
Many students asked us to inspect Duffy’s bathrooms, and for good reason. They smell. Bad. We didn’t go into any girls bathrooms, but we’re told they are disgusting. The 3rd floor men’s washroom is missing lights, tiles, and key amenities, like soap. The designer of this bathroom was apparently colour-blind, and whoever built the counter lacks the most basic of carpentry skills. Adam said that this was easily the worst sink he had ever seen in his life. What this bathroom lacks in intelligent colour scheme, it makes up for with excessive amounts of dirt and rust accumulated in the sink. The oddest feature is the mirror, which is not located in its traditional position above the sink, but is rather unstrategically placed 10 feet down the wall towards the urinals. Those science student may be smart, but they sure as hell can’t design a bathroom.
We’ve received many complaints about many bathrooms on our travels, "Don’t you hate when people are drunk and they can’t aim and they puke in the bathroom at ‘The Wave’?" Uh yeah. Gross. "Have you ever noticed how bad Cass bathrooms smell? What’s the deal with those Engineering students anyway?" Yes, we were there, and no, we don’t know what the deal is with those engineering students.
The point is, it seems everyone has something to say on this issue. So if you have some complaint you’d like to add about bathrooms, or if you would rather that I just shut up about them, check the email address at the end of the column and make sure you let us know how you feel.
Since the first bathroom column was published, we have received mail from students who claim that they know what the worst bathroom is. I assure you, however, that you have no idea what you are talking about. Ladies and Gentlemen, I bring you Dalton Hall basement. This bathroom is the worst bathroom we have ever seen, and that’s saying a lot seeing as we both grew up in the sticks. I am confident that the technology and fixtures in this bathroom went up with the building when it was built back in 1914 and when it was built, it was done so with the smallest amount of effort possible. The bathroom, first of all, is hard to find. Its concrete floor was painted gray at some point, but has been chipping away for years. The single stall is made of plywood, yes, plywood, and contains a single broken toilet, complete with its own plunger and a handwritten sign telling users not to flush too much stuff down the toilet. The low ceiling has exposed pipes and wires hanging from it, and the single urinal comes complete with a drop bucket underneath it to collect any leaks. The exposed water pipe has been insulated with electrical tape, styrofoam and tinfoil. Multiple bottles are strewn around, including one spray bottle that is marked "Speedball." This is just one sight you’ll have to see for yourself. Although we had seen a lot of bad stuff in a lot of bathrooms, it was the bathroom in Dalton’s basement that we almost pissed ourselves laughing. In fact, I think both of us would have rather pissed ourselves laughing than be forced to utilize the facilities in this sad excuse for a washroom. Ugh.
Have a good one!
Tuesday, March 02, 2004
...And now for something completely different: The Bathroom Edition - Part I (#06)
(by Ryan Gallant and Adam Carragher)
So you may be asking yourself, "What the hell are these guys doing writing about bathrooms? Don’t they know that I rely on this column for all my weekly news?" First of all, that is very, very sad. Secondly, this issue should matter to you. Studies show that the average person spends about 7 years in the bathroom over the span of their lifetime. This should astound most readers because a) 7 years is a long time to spend on the can, and b) because I just came up with this figure off the top of my head.
Either way, my good friend Adam Carragher and I have taken time out of our incredibly busy social lives to inspect 35 bathrooms here on campus. These are their stories.
Our journey begins in the Sports Centre. One glaring finding of our survey was that every bathroom seems to have its own character, specific to the function that it serves. For example, the men’s locker room bathroom practically reeks of testosterone. First of all, it doesn’t have a door, seeming to declare with a great deal of machismo; "Door? I don’t need no damn door." These washrooms have always freaked me out a bit. Other than the obvious lack of a door, the taps suck, and seem to have no real control over the speed or amount of water that sprays into the sink, often with sporadic rage. Plus there are also always some random 50 year old naked guys roaming around. This bathroom, yes, is odd, but was not bad enough overall to make it onto the list of the worst bathrooms on campus.
The bathrooms in the Nursing Faculty were pretty hard to find and did not seem to want to accommodate men very well. Sure, there were two bathrooms, but only the women’s bathroom was designated to a specific gender. The only way guys are able to answer the call of nature in this Faculty is to use a unisex bathroom that is wedged in a corner between a Doritos machine and a photocopier. No wonder men don’t want to become nurses. So unless you like a snack when you’re in the lavatory, or enjoy photocopying your ass once in awhile, these facilities are not for you. In addition, it smelled like a dentists’ office. This bathroom garnered top marks as the hardest to find, and is without a doubt the most sexist bathroom at UPEI.
Dalton Hall has the weirdest mix of bathrooms on earth. The building is weird enough, with the Rustico wharf of a wheelchair ramp out front, and the multiple signs on the front door warning you to not smoke and to ‘Watch out for icicles,’ and to ‘Try not to kill people with your allergens.’ The washroom on the top floor has a sign on the door as well. This one warns: "Knock first, then lock the door behind you." Like it’s part of some crazy bathroom cult. The ground-floor bathroom also exemplifies washroom paranoia. There are at least four signs in this bathroom, warning you to do all sorts of things, from not flushing paper towel down the toilet to getting your regular flu shots. One sign notes: "In effort to curb another outbreak of SARS, may we remind you to get a flu shot, and to wash your hands often." This should be your first clue that Dalton Hall is NOT a science faculty building. 1) SARS has never reached P.E.I., and any renewed outbreak has been confined to Beijing. 2) You should probably be washing your hands anyway, seeing as this building has a foods lab and 3) Flu shots do not protect you against SARS. They protect you against the flu. Hence the name.
The bathrooms of Main are known for their spacious comfort and modernity. However on the day we conducted our survey, the strong smell of cannabis was apparent in one of the bathrooms. So this is the Arts building, is it?. In the basement bathroom, a political debate has been raging on the walls for years. An anti-pesticide sticker is stuck to the mirror, and one stall has been ravaged with graffiti. One stall user has hailed bodily functions as being "petty bourgeoisie" and orders everyone to "stop pissing for the man", while others sing the praises of corporate and capitalist society, often with crudely drawn cartoons. (Viewer Discretion is Advised.) Others have ignored the ideological debate and have resorted to writing out passages of biblical scripture. Though a bit out of the way, this bathroom is without a doubt the most entertaining one on campus.
Memorial Hall has some interesting ideas on how to organize a bathroom as well. In this washroom, the urinals are located in their own little room with a swinging door covering about one-third of its entrance. For all you ladies who may unfamiliar with normal urinal placement, this arrangement is highly unorthodox. These urinals are like 2 inches apart, seeming to ignore the ample amount of space presented in this ‘urinal room’. This room and these doors seem to serve no logical purpose. Be it coincidental or not, Memorial happens to be home to the Faculty of Psychology, and this messed up bathroom concept serves no other purpose than to screw with one’s mind. That place is really frigging weird.
Stay tuned next week to find out the absolute worst bathrooms here on campus.
Have a good one!
So you may be asking yourself, "What the hell are these guys doing writing about bathrooms? Don’t they know that I rely on this column for all my weekly news?" First of all, that is very, very sad. Secondly, this issue should matter to you. Studies show that the average person spends about 7 years in the bathroom over the span of their lifetime. This should astound most readers because a) 7 years is a long time to spend on the can, and b) because I just came up with this figure off the top of my head.
Either way, my good friend Adam Carragher and I have taken time out of our incredibly busy social lives to inspect 35 bathrooms here on campus. These are their stories.
Our journey begins in the Sports Centre. One glaring finding of our survey was that every bathroom seems to have its own character, specific to the function that it serves. For example, the men’s locker room bathroom practically reeks of testosterone. First of all, it doesn’t have a door, seeming to declare with a great deal of machismo; "Door? I don’t need no damn door." These washrooms have always freaked me out a bit. Other than the obvious lack of a door, the taps suck, and seem to have no real control over the speed or amount of water that sprays into the sink, often with sporadic rage. Plus there are also always some random 50 year old naked guys roaming around. This bathroom, yes, is odd, but was not bad enough overall to make it onto the list of the worst bathrooms on campus.
The bathrooms in the Nursing Faculty were pretty hard to find and did not seem to want to accommodate men very well. Sure, there were two bathrooms, but only the women’s bathroom was designated to a specific gender. The only way guys are able to answer the call of nature in this Faculty is to use a unisex bathroom that is wedged in a corner between a Doritos machine and a photocopier. No wonder men don’t want to become nurses. So unless you like a snack when you’re in the lavatory, or enjoy photocopying your ass once in awhile, these facilities are not for you. In addition, it smelled like a dentists’ office. This bathroom garnered top marks as the hardest to find, and is without a doubt the most sexist bathroom at UPEI.
Dalton Hall has the weirdest mix of bathrooms on earth. The building is weird enough, with the Rustico wharf of a wheelchair ramp out front, and the multiple signs on the front door warning you to not smoke and to ‘Watch out for icicles,’ and to ‘Try not to kill people with your allergens.’ The washroom on the top floor has a sign on the door as well. This one warns: "Knock first, then lock the door behind you." Like it’s part of some crazy bathroom cult. The ground-floor bathroom also exemplifies washroom paranoia. There are at least four signs in this bathroom, warning you to do all sorts of things, from not flushing paper towel down the toilet to getting your regular flu shots. One sign notes: "In effort to curb another outbreak of SARS, may we remind you to get a flu shot, and to wash your hands often." This should be your first clue that Dalton Hall is NOT a science faculty building. 1) SARS has never reached P.E.I., and any renewed outbreak has been confined to Beijing. 2) You should probably be washing your hands anyway, seeing as this building has a foods lab and 3) Flu shots do not protect you against SARS. They protect you against the flu. Hence the name.
The bathrooms of Main are known for their spacious comfort and modernity. However on the day we conducted our survey, the strong smell of cannabis was apparent in one of the bathrooms. So this is the Arts building, is it?. In the basement bathroom, a political debate has been raging on the walls for years. An anti-pesticide sticker is stuck to the mirror, and one stall has been ravaged with graffiti. One stall user has hailed bodily functions as being "petty bourgeoisie" and orders everyone to "stop pissing for the man", while others sing the praises of corporate and capitalist society, often with crudely drawn cartoons. (Viewer Discretion is Advised.) Others have ignored the ideological debate and have resorted to writing out passages of biblical scripture. Though a bit out of the way, this bathroom is without a doubt the most entertaining one on campus.
Memorial Hall has some interesting ideas on how to organize a bathroom as well. In this washroom, the urinals are located in their own little room with a swinging door covering about one-third of its entrance. For all you ladies who may unfamiliar with normal urinal placement, this arrangement is highly unorthodox. These urinals are like 2 inches apart, seeming to ignore the ample amount of space presented in this ‘urinal room’. This room and these doors seem to serve no logical purpose. Be it coincidental or not, Memorial happens to be home to the Faculty of Psychology, and this messed up bathroom concept serves no other purpose than to screw with one’s mind. That place is really frigging weird.
Stay tuned next week to find out the absolute worst bathrooms here on campus.
Have a good one!
Tuesday, February 24, 2004
...And now for something completely different: The Rants of a University Student (#05)
Justin and Janet. How could you? Geez. Destroying the cultural event of the year and ruining the integrity of the U.S. entertainment business. Jerks. Just when do the cops plan on arresting them for that stunt? Like, I can see them keeping Janet out of prison just so she doesn’t get in any brawls with her brother, but I’m pretty sure that if I went around ripping off women’s clothing, I’d be off to Sleepy Hollow for at least awhile. Personally, I still think that Timberlake should be thrown in prison for those stupid MacDonald’s commercials that he made. But I guess I can also see their side of it. If it gets to the point that the U.S. is pushed to ban famous people from going around ripping off each other’s clothing in public, then they’re just letting the terrorists win.
Is it normal for someone not to like any of the songs on the top 9 at 9? Or am I even supposed to be listening to that stuff anymore? No, Clay, I don’t care if you’re invisible or not, you cannot watch me in my room. I’m only doing homework anyway. Surely with the power to be imperceptible to the human eye you could find something a bit more exciting to do. Actually, if you’re going invisible, why not go the whole nine yards and become inaudible too. The tone deaf man that you can’t see or hear. That’s my kind of Clay Aiken.
And Chingy, you cannot just make up words because they rhyme. ‘Right Thurr’? Kind of reminds me of Nelly’s ‘Hot in Herre.’ It’s just a coincidence you toured with him last summer right? Sample Dat Ass? How about sample a dialect that humans can relate to? But who am I to judge, I have an impeccable vocabulary and you don’t see me hauling in millions of dollars. I guess being incomprehensible is what’s hot at the moment. Fo shizzie?
And movies. Sigh. ‘You Got Served’? I cannot await the cinematic brilliance and invigorating plot that can only come from such an obviously well-thought out concept. ‘Bring It On Again'? Yeah, like the first one wasn’t bad enough.
U.S. President George W. Bush and British Prime Minister Tony Blair were nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize last week. Oops. I thought peace was when you didn’t drop bombs on other countries. My mistake. And now Bush and Blair are bewildered as to where the weapons of mass destruction are. That’s right, 9 months before a U.S. election, Old George and Tony decide that they better come up with an excuse for causing the deaths of 8,000 human beings.
I’m sorry, but I cannot stand NHL Commissioner Gary Bettman. Who was it that decided that some short dumb ass guy who’s never played in the league should be the head of the whole organization? And now, with the end of the player’s collective bargaining agreement bearing down on us, he decides that a salary cap is unnecessary. You’re right Gary. Let’s keep on pouring the millions out while small-market teams can barely afford to stay afloat. Jaromir Jagr’s contract alone, that sent him to join Captain Concussion and his overpaid mercenaries, totals $77 million over 7 years. (That’s $11 million a year for all you Arts students.) Does no one else think this is ridiculous? I’m sure that most players could manage to get by on a meager $2 or 3 million salary. Especially since the most that any of us that graduate will earn will be somewhere between $200,000 a year for saving lives, to $6.75 an hour for flipping burgers. The way I see it, if you’re going to go through all this trouble, you might as well insist on a salary cap because if you don’t, Mr. Bettman could lead the league straight into bankruptcy. I don’t think the players really have much of a right to complain about getting a few million for playing a game 9 months of the year. It’s better than not having a league to play in at all. So get your act together Gary, otherwise, the 2004 Champion Toronto Maple Leafs could end up being the last team to ever hoist the cup.
Have a good one!
Is it normal for someone not to like any of the songs on the top 9 at 9? Or am I even supposed to be listening to that stuff anymore? No, Clay, I don’t care if you’re invisible or not, you cannot watch me in my room. I’m only doing homework anyway. Surely with the power to be imperceptible to the human eye you could find something a bit more exciting to do. Actually, if you’re going invisible, why not go the whole nine yards and become inaudible too. The tone deaf man that you can’t see or hear. That’s my kind of Clay Aiken.
And Chingy, you cannot just make up words because they rhyme. ‘Right Thurr’? Kind of reminds me of Nelly’s ‘Hot in Herre.’ It’s just a coincidence you toured with him last summer right? Sample Dat Ass? How about sample a dialect that humans can relate to? But who am I to judge, I have an impeccable vocabulary and you don’t see me hauling in millions of dollars. I guess being incomprehensible is what’s hot at the moment. Fo shizzie?
And movies. Sigh. ‘You Got Served’? I cannot await the cinematic brilliance and invigorating plot that can only come from such an obviously well-thought out concept. ‘Bring It On Again'? Yeah, like the first one wasn’t bad enough.
U.S. President George W. Bush and British Prime Minister Tony Blair were nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize last week. Oops. I thought peace was when you didn’t drop bombs on other countries. My mistake. And now Bush and Blair are bewildered as to where the weapons of mass destruction are. That’s right, 9 months before a U.S. election, Old George and Tony decide that they better come up with an excuse for causing the deaths of 8,000 human beings.
I’m sorry, but I cannot stand NHL Commissioner Gary Bettman. Who was it that decided that some short dumb ass guy who’s never played in the league should be the head of the whole organization? And now, with the end of the player’s collective bargaining agreement bearing down on us, he decides that a salary cap is unnecessary. You’re right Gary. Let’s keep on pouring the millions out while small-market teams can barely afford to stay afloat. Jaromir Jagr’s contract alone, that sent him to join Captain Concussion and his overpaid mercenaries, totals $77 million over 7 years. (That’s $11 million a year for all you Arts students.) Does no one else think this is ridiculous? I’m sure that most players could manage to get by on a meager $2 or 3 million salary. Especially since the most that any of us that graduate will earn will be somewhere between $200,000 a year for saving lives, to $6.75 an hour for flipping burgers. The way I see it, if you’re going to go through all this trouble, you might as well insist on a salary cap because if you don’t, Mr. Bettman could lead the league straight into bankruptcy. I don’t think the players really have much of a right to complain about getting a few million for playing a game 9 months of the year. It’s better than not having a league to play in at all. So get your act together Gary, otherwise, the 2004 Champion Toronto Maple Leafs could end up being the last team to ever hoist the cup.
Have a good one!
Wednesday, February 04, 2004
...And now for something completely different: The Rants of a University Student (#04)
First things first. This week marks the 51st anniversary of the introduction of vitamin-enriched white bread to the Canadian market. Well now. Doesn’t that just call for a Bud Light. It was announced last week that North Korea had entered an agreement under which they would begin to share missile technology with Nigeria. I don’t know what everyone is freaking out about. Who cares if yet another volatile country with a lot of built-up angst and an unstable government has possession of nuclear arms? My fears were laid to rest when they promised to use them only for peace-keeping. Oh those wacky communists.
It also became public last week that many Canadian Forces militia groups across the country had run out of bullets. Great. So we’ve got like ten guys left in the reserves, the few subs that we do have don’t work, our rescue helicopters fall out of the sky and now we don’t have any bullets. Geez. We better pray we don’t piss off the Nigerians.
I don’t know what it is about drivers on this island, but there seems to be about, oh, I don’t know, four or five who actually know how to operate a motor vehicle. And I’m one of them. So I don’t know who the other three of you are, but I cannot stand being on the streets of Charlottetown with the other 32,000 lunatics. You’d think a city as small as Charlottetown would take advantage of its size and build a system that allows for the efficient flow of traffic. But no. There are four inadequately sized arteries leading in and out of the city, and each has about 562 sets of traffic lights, none of which change at random and fail to follow any sensible method, allowing cars that are unable to stop in the .2 seconds allotted, to smash into each other. At least no one gets hurt, seeing as no one goes over 12 kph anyway.
You’d also think that the daily commute of thousands of workers and students in and around Charlottetown would warrant the formulation of a mass-transit system. But again, no. The politicians keep talking, we keep walking and PEI continues to make no sense.
And the damn bypass. First of all, it is not a bypass. See, and I hope whoever built the bypass is reading this, the purpose of a bypass is to BYPASS a city, not to stop at nine separate sets of lights between Hillsborough and Maypoint. Of course, had they built a proper arterial highway with overpasses and merge lanes, we’d probably all be dead anyway, because no one else on the island knows how to merge either. (The exit from UPEI onto the Ave. is a good indication of this. Hint: Good merge lanes do not end with stop signs.)
Our incredibly idiotic roadway etiquette becomes even worse in the winter. It’s like we’ve never seen white stuff falling from the sky before and so we must act totally irrationally and swerve our vehicles into on-coming traffic at top speed. But that’s ok. Because it seems that someone forgot to tell the plows that they’re actually supposed to plow snow of the streets when it starts snowing. "Oh ok. We’ll get to it eventually." And they do. At three o’clock in the morning. See, while randomly pushing snow around the middle of the street with the loudest equipment known to mankind, they want to ensure that no one is afforded the benefit of sleep so that we can get back to driving like idiots again in the morning.
A study released out of Montreal, Quebec this week announced that spending money on the prevention and treatment cancer actually saves lives. Really? So all that effort put into preventative medicine and chemo-therapy wasn’t just for fun? Wow. I applaud studies like this, aimed at answering these questions that vex us daily. In fact, I think that I should be given a million-dollar government grant so that I can study how not being shot in the head greatly increases your life expectancy. Honestly. If they keep doing studies like this, forget separation, we’ll just kick Quebec out for being so damn stupid.
The Conservative leadership race recently welcomed a new candidate, as rich business owner Belinda Stronach decided to add her name to the ballot. Stronach has little to no political experience as well as a strong background in inheriting Daddy’s money, and in not making a whole lot of sense when she talks. So you want me to choose someone like that to become Prime Minister someday? This isn’t the US you know.
Congratulations to the Patriots for their victory at the XXXVIII Superbowl. But to be honest, I’m not that much into the "big game". As my good friend Neal put it: "I stopped watching baseball when Wayne Gretzky retired."
Happy Groundhog Day.
Have a good one!
It also became public last week that many Canadian Forces militia groups across the country had run out of bullets. Great. So we’ve got like ten guys left in the reserves, the few subs that we do have don’t work, our rescue helicopters fall out of the sky and now we don’t have any bullets. Geez. We better pray we don’t piss off the Nigerians.
I don’t know what it is about drivers on this island, but there seems to be about, oh, I don’t know, four or five who actually know how to operate a motor vehicle. And I’m one of them. So I don’t know who the other three of you are, but I cannot stand being on the streets of Charlottetown with the other 32,000 lunatics. You’d think a city as small as Charlottetown would take advantage of its size and build a system that allows for the efficient flow of traffic. But no. There are four inadequately sized arteries leading in and out of the city, and each has about 562 sets of traffic lights, none of which change at random and fail to follow any sensible method, allowing cars that are unable to stop in the .2 seconds allotted, to smash into each other. At least no one gets hurt, seeing as no one goes over 12 kph anyway.
You’d also think that the daily commute of thousands of workers and students in and around Charlottetown would warrant the formulation of a mass-transit system. But again, no. The politicians keep talking, we keep walking and PEI continues to make no sense.
And the damn bypass. First of all, it is not a bypass. See, and I hope whoever built the bypass is reading this, the purpose of a bypass is to BYPASS a city, not to stop at nine separate sets of lights between Hillsborough and Maypoint. Of course, had they built a proper arterial highway with overpasses and merge lanes, we’d probably all be dead anyway, because no one else on the island knows how to merge either. (The exit from UPEI onto the Ave. is a good indication of this. Hint: Good merge lanes do not end with stop signs.)
Our incredibly idiotic roadway etiquette becomes even worse in the winter. It’s like we’ve never seen white stuff falling from the sky before and so we must act totally irrationally and swerve our vehicles into on-coming traffic at top speed. But that’s ok. Because it seems that someone forgot to tell the plows that they’re actually supposed to plow snow of the streets when it starts snowing. "Oh ok. We’ll get to it eventually." And they do. At three o’clock in the morning. See, while randomly pushing snow around the middle of the street with the loudest equipment known to mankind, they want to ensure that no one is afforded the benefit of sleep so that we can get back to driving like idiots again in the morning.
A study released out of Montreal, Quebec this week announced that spending money on the prevention and treatment cancer actually saves lives. Really? So all that effort put into preventative medicine and chemo-therapy wasn’t just for fun? Wow. I applaud studies like this, aimed at answering these questions that vex us daily. In fact, I think that I should be given a million-dollar government grant so that I can study how not being shot in the head greatly increases your life expectancy. Honestly. If they keep doing studies like this, forget separation, we’ll just kick Quebec out for being so damn stupid.
The Conservative leadership race recently welcomed a new candidate, as rich business owner Belinda Stronach decided to add her name to the ballot. Stronach has little to no political experience as well as a strong background in inheriting Daddy’s money, and in not making a whole lot of sense when she talks. So you want me to choose someone like that to become Prime Minister someday? This isn’t the US you know.
Congratulations to the Patriots for their victory at the XXXVIII Superbowl. But to be honest, I’m not that much into the "big game". As my good friend Neal put it: "I stopped watching baseball when Wayne Gretzky retired."
Happy Groundhog Day.
Have a good one!
Monday, January 19, 2004
...And now for something completely different: The Rants of a University Student (#03)
Well, in the immortal words of Billy Madison: "Back to school, back to school, to prove to Dad that I’m not a fool." Well yeah, sure we’ve been back for like 3 weeks, but since I got bumped from the "Strike Issue" I’m still allowed to complain about the past 3 weeks too. Plus, we’re only "back to school" until the faculty decides that they’re not making enough money and administration decides that we’re not paying enough. But maybe I’m being a bit too harsh, and that this is probably not a fair assessment of the whole situation. I’m sure there are several perfectly good reasons to take millions of dollars from students every year and use it to pay for trips and for security vans and for moving utility sheds around and then to decide not to ensure that the students have professors to teach their classes. It’s just that I can’t really think of these good reasons right off hand.
But then, who’s complaining? Christmas, (or Hanukkah) (or Kwanza) or whatever was great, Santa (or whoever you happen to believe comes down your chimney) came and most of us are almost completely recovered from New Year’s. Also, once again, exams are a distant nightmare.
In a way though, I think that I will miss exam time. It always seems to be a period when UPEI unites itself like a big family, to help each other get through what can be such a trying time. Students cram together in the library, hitting the books and helping each other, trying to ease each other’s pain. Even UPEI Administration chips in, performing seemingly unnecessary and noisy renovations in the library lobby during the peak of our academic studies, rendering one of the two exits inaccessible and making studying impossible. It’s amazing how the sound of jack-hammers jarring on concrete can ease the stress, especially after being awake studying and writing papers for 36 hours straight.
Some mornings, particularly those in which it is cold enough out to freeze human flesh solid in less than ten minutes, obviously any university that cared about the well-being of its students would have to common decency to forget about having classes for one day. Yeah. you’d think that wouldn’t you? But no, last week, on a day when a simple walk across the field from Blanchard to KCI would leave any normal person, by conservative estimates, well....DEAD, the University of Prince Edward Island was open for business. The same day that every other school on this island was closed. And why? God knows. High School kids don’t have to walk from building-to-building for class. Junior high students don’t have to walk miles to get to their busses in some random, far-off parking lot and elementary kids can always have indoor recess. But no. UPEI is a world apart. When everywhere else on PEI is -41 and it’s like minus a billion on campus, we still get to go to school, endanger our lives and wait for classes to be cancelled by some event that’s more significant. Like a totally legitimate strike.
So it sort of angers me when I’m trudging to class at 8:30 am and Paul Allen insists on saying "All classes are cancelled for students on PEI." You know, we’re students too Paul. So I figured I’d give him a call and point out the error of his ways. Our good friends at Magic 93. "Paul" I said " Maybe you should stop saying that there are no classes for students on P.E.I., because as far as I know, 2900 students still have classes at UPEI." Well, this pissed off Paul a good deal. He retorted, basically, that UPEI students don’t count, and that "university students should know when they have classes." Ohhhhh. I am SO sorry. I figured, you know, the station that insists on calling itself the Island News Leader might want to get a few stories straight once in awhile. But no. The home of ‘Storm Watch’ and their anchors would rather wallow in their ignorant bliss, make really stupid remarks and report things that isn’t really news. But I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. This is the same radio station that ignored the terrorist attacks on September 11th and kept on playing "Great Lite Rock Hits". Good plan guys! Keep ignoring the world and maybe they’ll start ignoring you too. And Paul, I’m sorry that I’m going to university and trying to improve myself, even it means that "I don’t count" in your little world. Get a life. And maybe a real job too.
2004 has been a harsh year on me so far. Just two weeks ago my heart was broken. Canada lost the World Juniors to the United States. Yeah, you heard me, to the United States. When the hell did the US start thinking they could play hockey? Actually I still don’t think they can. If it wasn’t for all the Brett Hull wannabes who cross the border to play for them, they’d still be where they belong. Dead last, tied with the Ukraine or something. But who knew that Marc-André Fleury could score too? Poor guy.
Now I know teams employing ‘the trap’ received a lot of criticism at the beginning of the current NHL season, but I can’t help but wish that Team Canada would’ve done just that and sat on their 2-goal lead going into the third. Ahwell. There’s always next year I guess. But hey, we’re still the World and Olympic Champions. Silver’s not THAT bad. I guess. We could challenge them to a game of curling.
And Saddam Hussein. Found living in a hole under a Styrofoam brick. This, folks, is when you know you’re done as a politician. You don’t have any more palaces, your army deserts you, most of the world and your own country hates you, you’re living in a hole and they don’t even give you a real damn brick to hide under.
But Bush is still advocating that Hussein should be granted a fair trial. Sure, I’m all for justice and the freedom of democracy, but does that make sense to anyone? Isn’t this the man they’ve been chasing for over a decade? The man that they were trying to find when they invaded Iraq? Twice? And now they want to give him a fair trial. What about all the people killed under the regime of his Ba’athists? What about the thousands that died under US bombs and trade embargoes that were aimed at toppling his empire? I know that justice is the prerogative of democracy, but why grant it to the man that denied it to so many others?
And finally, America’s sweetheart has gotten married. And divorced. All in like 10 minutes. Yes, Britney Spears tied the knot a few weekends back. For about fifteen minutes. You know, it really is hard for me to watch such a strong marriage based on the core values of drunkenness and stupidity fall apart like that.
And with that the holiday season is over for another year. The turkey leftovers have been eaten, all the annoying relatives have gone home, and the house on the corner of Kirkwood and University has finally taken down its seizure-inducing decorations. Yes, the "house that Christmas threw up on" is back to normal, and we’re back to the books for another semester on the coldest place on earth. Happy New Year.
Have a good one!
But then, who’s complaining? Christmas, (or Hanukkah) (or Kwanza) or whatever was great, Santa (or whoever you happen to believe comes down your chimney) came and most of us are almost completely recovered from New Year’s. Also, once again, exams are a distant nightmare.
In a way though, I think that I will miss exam time. It always seems to be a period when UPEI unites itself like a big family, to help each other get through what can be such a trying time. Students cram together in the library, hitting the books and helping each other, trying to ease each other’s pain. Even UPEI Administration chips in, performing seemingly unnecessary and noisy renovations in the library lobby during the peak of our academic studies, rendering one of the two exits inaccessible and making studying impossible. It’s amazing how the sound of jack-hammers jarring on concrete can ease the stress, especially after being awake studying and writing papers for 36 hours straight.
Some mornings, particularly those in which it is cold enough out to freeze human flesh solid in less than ten minutes, obviously any university that cared about the well-being of its students would have to common decency to forget about having classes for one day. Yeah. you’d think that wouldn’t you? But no, last week, on a day when a simple walk across the field from Blanchard to KCI would leave any normal person, by conservative estimates, well....DEAD, the University of Prince Edward Island was open for business. The same day that every other school on this island was closed. And why? God knows. High School kids don’t have to walk from building-to-building for class. Junior high students don’t have to walk miles to get to their busses in some random, far-off parking lot and elementary kids can always have indoor recess. But no. UPEI is a world apart. When everywhere else on PEI is -41 and it’s like minus a billion on campus, we still get to go to school, endanger our lives and wait for classes to be cancelled by some event that’s more significant. Like a totally legitimate strike.
So it sort of angers me when I’m trudging to class at 8:30 am and Paul Allen insists on saying "All classes are cancelled for students on PEI." You know, we’re students too Paul. So I figured I’d give him a call and point out the error of his ways. Our good friends at Magic 93. "Paul" I said " Maybe you should stop saying that there are no classes for students on P.E.I., because as far as I know, 2900 students still have classes at UPEI." Well, this pissed off Paul a good deal. He retorted, basically, that UPEI students don’t count, and that "university students should know when they have classes." Ohhhhh. I am SO sorry. I figured, you know, the station that insists on calling itself the Island News Leader might want to get a few stories straight once in awhile. But no. The home of ‘Storm Watch’ and their anchors would rather wallow in their ignorant bliss, make really stupid remarks and report things that isn’t really news. But I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. This is the same radio station that ignored the terrorist attacks on September 11th and kept on playing "Great Lite Rock Hits". Good plan guys! Keep ignoring the world and maybe they’ll start ignoring you too. And Paul, I’m sorry that I’m going to university and trying to improve myself, even it means that "I don’t count" in your little world. Get a life. And maybe a real job too.
2004 has been a harsh year on me so far. Just two weeks ago my heart was broken. Canada lost the World Juniors to the United States. Yeah, you heard me, to the United States. When the hell did the US start thinking they could play hockey? Actually I still don’t think they can. If it wasn’t for all the Brett Hull wannabes who cross the border to play for them, they’d still be where they belong. Dead last, tied with the Ukraine or something. But who knew that Marc-André Fleury could score too? Poor guy.
Now I know teams employing ‘the trap’ received a lot of criticism at the beginning of the current NHL season, but I can’t help but wish that Team Canada would’ve done just that and sat on their 2-goal lead going into the third. Ahwell. There’s always next year I guess. But hey, we’re still the World and Olympic Champions. Silver’s not THAT bad. I guess. We could challenge them to a game of curling.
And Saddam Hussein. Found living in a hole under a Styrofoam brick. This, folks, is when you know you’re done as a politician. You don’t have any more palaces, your army deserts you, most of the world and your own country hates you, you’re living in a hole and they don’t even give you a real damn brick to hide under.
But Bush is still advocating that Hussein should be granted a fair trial. Sure, I’m all for justice and the freedom of democracy, but does that make sense to anyone? Isn’t this the man they’ve been chasing for over a decade? The man that they were trying to find when they invaded Iraq? Twice? And now they want to give him a fair trial. What about all the people killed under the regime of his Ba’athists? What about the thousands that died under US bombs and trade embargoes that were aimed at toppling his empire? I know that justice is the prerogative of democracy, but why grant it to the man that denied it to so many others?
And finally, America’s sweetheart has gotten married. And divorced. All in like 10 minutes. Yes, Britney Spears tied the knot a few weekends back. For about fifteen minutes. You know, it really is hard for me to watch such a strong marriage based on the core values of drunkenness and stupidity fall apart like that.
And with that the holiday season is over for another year. The turkey leftovers have been eaten, all the annoying relatives have gone home, and the house on the corner of Kirkwood and University has finally taken down its seizure-inducing decorations. Yes, the "house that Christmas threw up on" is back to normal, and we’re back to the books for another semester on the coldest place on earth. Happy New Year.
Have a good one!
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