I Hate the Girls Who Live Upstairs

HATE

THE LTD IHATE By Pete R. Hunt

TAKE ANOTHER RIDE ON THE LTD, YOU CAN GET IT TO GO…” the back of my ears today, that would be great. No? All right You know what? Fuck that. If the LTD girl ever got on my then, could you at least let go of my underwear? I think that bus, I’d put the smack down on her and her Gap discount-rack last strand of cotton is about to break under the raw force of the fashion sense. Eugene has had the LTD song drilled into its atomic wedgie. collective head like Malcolm McDowell had Beethoven’s Fifth. Following precedent, you’ll excuse me if I don’t flash a Yet not once has the motley crew of transients, junior-highers smile when I flash the driver my ID. I’m a junior in college, or mentally-handicapped who frequent my bus route ever spon- for the love of God. Shouldn’t there be a law prohibiting me taneously burst into song. Not once. Unless, of course you from using public transportation? And shouldn’t the University count that time the guy with the eye-patch went on a profanity- of Oregon have the decency to build a parking garage, so those laced tirade from 18th to 29th. It wasn’t really a song though, of us who live three miles away don’t have to risk getting and why he hates Jews so much I’ll never know. mugged by a crack fiend on the way home every night? Is that LTD is an easy target. Everybody hates riding the bus. too much to ask? For me, it traces back to junior high, when I had a forty-five Where does the city of Eugene find LTD bus drivers? minute bus ride to school, with another excruciating forty-five Banging on the boarded-up visage of the Vet’s Club, that’s minutes back at day’s end. Insult to injury, I lived along a bus where. Vietnam was a bitch, man. Not all the hippies in route with more hicks and rednecks than the Missouri back- Eugene have found inner peace. Some are still traumatized woods. I would have switched spots with Ned Beatty in head-cases, seeking moral redemption by way of a three-ton “Deliverance” any day of the week, even when he was on all Greyhound. As traffic darts in and out of lanes, the drivers’ fours in the mud, squealing like a pig. At least those hicks grasp on reality gets pushed through a melting window of per- were musically talented. ception, the snail crawls along the edge of the razor blade, Like clockwork, the first sound I heard when I stepped on Charlie’s face splits in half with a metal slug, and the soon-to- the school bus was Metallica’s black album busting out of some be-violated orphan girl looks up in terror as the good old boys dolt’s boom box. Yes dude, as good as “Enter Sandman” was in the Tango squad form a line and…THE HORROR!! For a the last three weeks, I’m sure we’ll all be blown away by James vet, the 23 route is Eugene’s Cambodia, and those who dare set Hetfield’s virtuoso guitar work once again today. And if you — foot on the war bus are acceptable casualties in our never-end- my Iron Maiden T-shirt-wearing friend — could stop flicking ing war against communism.

16 OREGON COMMENTATOR HATE

Don’t think for a second that the bus driver cares about you. He doesn’t even know you’re there. I can attest to this: your boyfriend’s advice the first time and used the coat hanger. pulling the cord doesn’t mean the bus driver is going to stop There’s no going back now, so at least keep your welfare litter any time soon. More than once I’ve seen people having to yell to yourself. that their stop was three blocks ago. The bus driver just laughs And please, be on time for the bus. It’s not hard. The bus and apologizes, all the while struggling to keep his inner is consistently late — it’s hard to miss. Yet everyday the same demons in check. Me? I’m happy where ever I’m dropped off. dumb-ass ends up running frantically down Hilyard, too stoned Five blocks, six blocks, who’s counting? I have feet. to understand the concept of time, backpack swinging back and Traffic in Eugene is an endless battle between the LTD, forth with the gyrations of his fat ass, hands waving frantically rush hour traffic, energy-conserving bikers and pedestrians to get the driver’s attention as he heads over the horizon. who wouldn’t recognize a crosswalk if it was covered in uncut “Stop, bus driver dude, stop!” he shouts into the wind. cocaine. Everyone wants to be first off the starting line and last And why would you bring your bike with you onto a bus? through the yellow light. The bus drivers curse the cars that cut Are you riding the bus, or are you riding your bike? Which is them off, the cars honk their horns at the buses that hold up it? Isn’t the purpose of riding the bike to get exercise? Does traffic every half block. The bikers just smile and give an that only apply to the two blocks you have to “bike” every unseen finger to the gas guzzling consumer culture. The whole morning to the bus stop? I hate you people. mess comes together at 13th and Alder, as all of humanity con- Why do the students of South Eugene High School get to verges on the event horizon. Bus, car, bike and pedestrian all ride the bus? Shouldn’t they have their own yellow bus to ride? stare, unblinking, in a Mexican stand-off. They must know nobody is excited to see them pile on. Maybe The bus drivers can blame their erratic behavior on med- that’s why they all head to the back, because God knows the ication, but the passengers who frequent my bus route have no back of the bus is the hippest place in the world. All the little such excuse. Attention unwed teenage mothers with two kids: Britney clones talk about the boys in the hall who may have if you can’t control your filth-covered children, that’s your stared at them today, and all the social reject boys talk about problem, but don’t let them crawl all over me. If I wanted getting drunk on Daddy’s liquor supply. These young ladies Hepatitis B, I’d eat at Jack-in-the-Box. You should’ve taken could care less that the feminist college girls frown at their

MARCH 30, 2001 CONTINUED ON PAGE 42 17 HATE

They glower at you with scarlet eyes, piercing. They claw at you with Manticore talons. For their poison there is no cure. These reptilio-mam- mals are squirrels, and they are worse than you think.

BY BRIAN BOONE I HATE SQUIRRELS

I WAS STUMBLING HOME LATE ONE NIGHT FROM THE HOMELESS SHELTER, WHERE I everybody says – vegetarians, amiable, furry. Not quite. If you can teach blind orphans to sing church hymns while sponge-bathing the manage to locate a sedate one, find a squirrel and stare into its elderly, when I heard some strange noises. It sounded like eating, strange, beady eyes. First, you’ll notice that they’re way too big for but with a rabid ferocity rivaled only by my stoner roommate with their freakish, oblong heads. Next, you’ll likely be distracted by the a bag of Fritos. It was dark all around me and I slowly walked for- hypnotic swaying of their poofy, outward-spreading tails. Then, ward, the horrible sounds drawing nearer. I looked down at my feet realizing poison has been spit into your face while you let your and saw what appeared to be the half-devoured remains of a human guard down (see below), you look back into the eyes of cute little figure, a transient I think. His legs were still intact, but above the Skippy or Sammy or Slappy or whatever you want to call him and waist he was almost completely gone and was covered with little for the first time you will notice a darkness and despair seen brown creatures, chirping loudly. These little demons eagerly nowhere else in the natural or spectral world. This cold blackness pecked away at the flesh of the unfortunate man with a venomous, is so engulfing it fills you with such stifling and intense depression mungry ferociousness. I stepped back to vomit as they ravenously that the thought of being happy again does not even enter your devoured the corpse, chirping alternately in squeals of evil delight mind as a possibility. This is how consuming the pure, seething evil and calling other little buddies to join in the feast that created a is within the eyes of a squirrel. Such evil was written about exten- symphony of unfathomable evil that could only be the soundtrack sively by both Nietzsche and Dylan Thomas, though neither could to the ninth circle of hell. The cadre of chirps, slurps and chomps accurately approximate this blackness and profound sorrow. And was over in mere seconds, with the once bloated corpse complete- neither hugs nor drink can ever make the memory go away. ly gone, replaced with seven or eight small foot bones and a few After my little incident, the first thing I noticed about the scraps of paper that read “world’s,” “funniest,” and “joke book.” squirrels on campus was that they were extremely comfortable with It was a sight I will not soon forget, nor have therapy or Paxil people. I attributed this to the symbiotic relationship of high popu- helped much. I still get nightmares. People ask me if my story is lations of people and rodents, along with the great deal of junk food true and if rats can be that ravenous. Of course, I say, my story is garbage lying around. But don’t squirrels generally run away when true. But those weren’t rats, my friend. human beings get too close, or are at least a little skittish and quake Those were squirrels. constantly? So, then, why not here? Well, regular squirrels are And then they laugh at me. Squirrels are cute little creatures, afraid of people because we are bigger and stronger. UO squirrels

18 OREGON COMMENTATOR HATE are a little different: they have no need for fear because they are a to be cute, fuzzy and harmless, but in actuality they are festering specially mutated race of squirrels with sick, disgusting and pow- little vermin crawling with disease that sap you into giving them erful weapons at their disposal. They don’t need to run away from a peanut because of their cute widdle curly tails and big dopey people because they are more powerful and destructive than eyes. Don’t give in. humans. Like that one dinosaur who sprayed the guy from Seinfeld Instead, I have two ideas for how to rid campus of these squirrels, the biggest tumor on our academic society next to the Greek system. Idea number one: sportsmen and entrepreneurs in Mexico have for years been training chickens to become masterful cock- BECAUSE OF THEIR VENOM fighters. If these guys can turn stupid, pale, weak little chickens into scrappy fighting machines, then we can certainly do the same up here with squirrels. We can construct a little squirrel-cockfight AND CLOUT, SQUIRRELS GET ring in the quad between Condon and Chapman, pass out some bet- ting forms and watch those little bastards peck and scratch each TO RUN ALL OVER, DOING other until they’re lying their in a bloody mess of fur, bones and fil- bert shells. This is win-win: first, squirrels die, and second, massive financial windfall via legalized gambling. WHATEVER THEY PLEASE. My second plan could work in conjunction with the first. Those squirrels that live would be re-released back into the wilds of campus. They would be a given a five-minute head start before in Jurassic Park, squirrels are equipped with packets of venom I and the other members of the Oregon Game Society begin stalk- behind their ears with which they can spray a victim, rendering ing them into the night, shotguns in tow, orange vests on our backs. them more blind and crippled in a few seconds than 30 years of dia- There is nothing more thrilling or masculine than killing a once betes could accomplish. UO squirrels also are able to squeal at high noble creature and what an amazing rush it is to look a strong beast pitches and high volumes for several minutes at a time, causing the like a squirrel squarely in the eye before squeezing the trigger once explosion of eardrums to any living creature within a three-mile and unloading a slug into its firm, meaty flesh. That night, the kids radius. Very, very bloody, really. look admiringly at you as you carve the roasted squirrel and put a With such a violent menace on campus, you would think DPS slice on each of their plates as the freshly-mounted head of the or the administration would step in and curb such a hysterical squirrel looks in from the den, now firmly placed as a trophy head threat. Well, that would be the case if some of these demented alongside many, many other of its fallen, but deservedly dead- squirrels had not dressed themselves up in real pretty dresses and squirrel brethren. Now that’s America and colleges have a respon- suits, educated themselves and received government grants which sibility to keep their grounds free of pests and students adequately have helped them manipulate, hypnotize and poison their way into trained in the survival arts. the upper echelon of University command. Some suspected poison Cockfighting or hunting, we’ve got to get rid of them some squirrels within the ranks of the University include DPS chief Tom way. In the meantime, whenever one of these vicious little succubi Fitzpatrick, vice-president Dan Williams, Emerald reporter Lisa make their presence known, raccoons Toth, the “free God news guy,” everyone in the Honors College, quiver, nutria cower and Jeremy Carson cafeteria manager Cindy Lund and journalism professor Lang cries like a little girl Carl Bybee. who lost her favorite Brian Boone, a senior who I’m just mad that because of their venom and clout, squirrels dolly. Fear the squir- steadfastly refuses to graduate, is get to run all over this University doing whatever they please. I rels no more, for Associate Editor of the OREGON mean they are literally everywhere. Campus is littered with them, they can smell COMMENTATOR both live and dead. I hear them rustling in bushes; running up trees; your fear and it running down trees; running up to me and pecking my shoe looking is then that for free food or another handout of government cheese. I see them they are constantly chase each other in ways I am not sure are playful, sexu- hungriest. al or violent. Mostly I hate how they are constantly gnawing in a cir- cular pattern on little nuts and seeds — little nuts and seeds that they didn’t paid for. And guess who ends up footing the bill for these bucktoothed loafers? Mr. and Mrs. American Taxpayer, that’s who. But these things breed faster than Mormons on fertility drugs. Their spread is rampant and soon the greens of courtyards and red bricks of learning halls will soon be a thick mass of mat- ted brown and gray squirrel pelts. Something has got to be done to thin the herd. And yes, we’ve got to kill them. They may appear

MAY 30, 2001 19 HATE

TISFOUR IN THE AFTERNOON AND ALL HELL I I Population: You WANT IS A CUP OF COFFEE.SPECIFICALLY,I want a grande caramel machiatto from the Starbucks on the corner of 13th and Alder. As I enter the store, prepared to exchange my $3.35 for a warm and fuzzy cup of corporate goodness, a voice bel- lows from behind me: “DO NOT ENTER, MORTAL! THE COR- PORATE STORE FROM WHICH YOU WISH TO PURCHASE A CUP OF STEAMING GOODNESS IS EVIL! IT SHALL RAV- AGE YOUR WEAK AND PATHETIC SOUL!” I look around, scanning the area for a hippie with a megaphone, or, failing that, an extremely motivated advertiser from Espresso Roma. Then I realize the horrible truth: I am alone on the street; there is no hippie; the voice was coming from Eugene — from the city itself. The sidewalk begins to shake as I dart into the doorway; my foot barely escapes a massive expanse opening in the ground behind me. Safely inside, my $3.35 still clutched in hand, I watch as the street forms into a large and roughly humanoid form. Pieces of asphalt and cement fly from their proper places along the ground, becoming gangly appendages. After seconds, seemingly hours, the golem stands complete. Its limbs and body are massive, and its face, oh God, its face. I have never seen anything so hideous; its face was that of Ralph Nader and Bob Marley’s illegitimate love-child. I HATE EUGENE Quickly, I move deeper into the store. The cute girl behind the counter takes my order. As she notices Eugene’s incarnate avenger just outside the window of her store, she begins to scream. Apparently, the girl working the espresso machine doesn’t notice; BY TIM DREIER my order is up in no time at all. I grab the cup, just as the roof is coming off the building. “Fuck me!” I exclaim, hoping one of the girls behind the counter will take me up on the offer. The creature Peaceful village or soulless looks down on me with an expression that only the face of Nader and Marley’s illegitimate love-child can make, and growls. Seeing hellhole? You know the answer. no other escape, I dive through the plate glass window onto what remains of 13th. Damn. screaming, “Down the block, some- Note to self: diving through plate body is bludgeoning a baby harbor glass hurts. seal!” The feign works; the group I take off down the street at full rushes toward where I was only speed, coffee in hand. I can hear the moments earlier, like a herd of very creature behind me — its lumbering fast and only slightly smarter cattle. I footsteps, its breathing that sounds stop in the EMU breezeway to catch eerily like the phrases “foster diversi- my breath and admire my handiwork. ty” and “Free Mumia!” Frog is on the The creature, that hideous beast, is corner hawking his joke books. He doing something beautiful… the offers me one just as I slam my coffee crowd of PETA members is being torn cup into the side of his head; he limb from limb. Blood is everywhere screams from the scalding and is dis- — on the street, in the trees, on the tracted just long enough for me to Hideous,hideous,hideous: and these are the upstanding citizens — that walls of nearby buildings. I smile to throw him into the creature’s path. I being the ones not yet too stoned to stand up.Except here they’re sitting. myself. Eugene is devouring its own look back over my shoulder to see him because of me, but my joy is short- being devoured by my pursuer. It’s nice to see that moron gone. lived. The creature has decimated the protesters, and is staring at After my second’s pause, the creature is back on the chase. Shit. me coldly. Bloody hell! In the EMU Amphitheater, a large group of PETA activists has It sees me standing in the breezeway, dammit. I take three quick gathered. “Good,” I say to myself, “more fodder.” I run past, steps sideways into The Buzz and its always open-mic. I laugh mani-

20 OREGON COMMENTATOR HATE acally. Wild-eyed I shout: “Eugene is car comes to a screeching halt just in front of the 11 bus. after me! It’s going to eat me!” Hmmmm, Thurston…Where’s a kid with a gun when I need one? The guy at the microphone looks As I leap from the car, an old hippie at the bus station notices the up and says, “As you’re probly [sic] button I am wearing on my lapel. “What, do you not like aware.” No introduction, no state- OSPIRG?” he inquires. “No, I don’t,” is my reply. Because I ment, just: “As you’re probly [sic] have no self-control, I launch into the entire reasoning behind my aware.” I move up to the counter and feelings. I finish, just in time to feel a large, cold, stony hand order another cup of coffee — bad wrapping itself around me. Fuck! Damn you, hippie man, damn organic coffee. I hand over $2.75 for Eugene: a freak show without you! I curse him at the top of my lungs as Eugene’s golem an inferior 16 oz. mocha. With coffee there necessarily being a show. devours me. in hand, I run up to the guy at the I awaken screaming in my bed at 11 a.m. Oh God, that was microphone. I remove the lid from the cup and toss boiling hot awful. It ate me; the city actually ate me. This town is finally get- swill into his eyes. For good measure, I give him a foot square to ting to me, finally starting to crack me up. I rouse myself from the groin and drag him toward the door. As I pull, the only noise bed, get dressed, grab my keys and head out of the house. Maybe he makes is: “As you’re probly [sic] aware.” I’ll feel a little better if I just drive around for a while. That’ll I shoulder my way out the door and find myself right at the help; driving will definitely help. creature’s feet. Oops. With a heave and a shove, I manage to feed I start the car and pull out from my parking space, hit the open mic guy to the creature. A low groan comes from deep Centennial and head over to the bridge toward campus. The drive within the creature’s bowels. As it crushes the open mic guy’s is uneventful and I find a place to park on 13th. I get out of the skull in its huge concrete maw, I run. My car — I have to get to my car. My car is parked behind Bean — shit. I’m barely past Straub when the creature is upon me I have never seen anything so again. Jeezum, won’t this town just leave me alone? I need to find it something to consume. Luckily for me there are a bunch of kids playing with sticks in front of Carson. I make a break for the complex at full speed. As I come up upon the group, I point hideous; its face was that of behind me and shout, “Umm…dudes, there’s some really killer band doing Phish covers in the Amphitheater!” They drop their sticks and bolt toward the EMU. Unsuspecting, they run right into Ralph Nader and Bob Marley’s the waiting maw of Eugene’s dead soul. I stop to laugh for a brief moment, appreciating the carnage, before hastening to my car. I open the door, hop into the driver’s seat and take a brief look back illegitimate love-child. over my shoulder. Damn; it’s still behind me. Quick. Think man, think…. Downtown! I throw the car into reverse and manage to skid between the creature’s legs. Too close for comfort, I put the car in car and head to my local capitalist coffee installation for a nice gear and squeal out of the parking lot with Eugene in fast pursuit. cup of corporate goodness. Every step that this monstrosity takes rips up a part of the road; the As I pull the door open, I begin to shake uncontrollably. My city is cutting off any possible retreat. Just what I need. I hurtle hands rattle, my body convulses and I drop to the floor. Just as down the road and take a right on 18th. I push the gas pedal all the my eyes roll back in my head, . A few seconds later I awaken to way to the floor and begin to acceler- my face being slapped by an employee in a green apron. She tells ate 65... 70... 75 mph towards me that I’ve had a seizure upon entering the store and offers me Willamette. I make the corner onto free coffee, which I gladly accept. I take a few sips on my way Willamette doing around 80 mph. “GO out of the store and immediately vomit them back up. Great, GERBILS, GO!” I scream at the tiny now coffee from Starbucks is making me sick. I still want coffee, engine under my car’s hood. A quick so I begrudgingly walk into Espresso Roma next door for some glance into the rear-view and I notice “liquid culture.” The coffee tastes terrible. It isn’t hot enough that Eugene’s Defender is still hot on and is generally bad. With my new affliction, being made to my tail. Shit. Where can I hide? vomit by Starbucks coffee, I am going to be drinking a lot of swill Where can I run? from places like Espresso Roma. Good Lord, I hate this town. The bus station! I don’t know why, but the bus station seems like a logical place to go. I slam the breaks In Eugene, these people might and turn as I reach the entrance. My come to your parties. Tim Dreier, a professional hippie sniper for Ted Nugent, is a staff writer for the OREGON COMMENTATOR. MAY 30, 2001 21 TWO MINUTES HATE

I HATE MASTURBATION

Nature has thrust upon me an insatiable urge to pleasure I HATE LIBERAL PROFESSORS myself. When I see a tampon commercial, I masturbate. Every day they’re up there, yammering away about some When the cute girl in microeconomics class doesn’t wear a inconsequential topic or another. Like Casey Kasem on bra, I masturbate. Ally McBeal comes on TV. Masturbate. crack, university professors babble on and on about the Mandy Moore on the radio. Masturbate. Junior high soft- liberal ideology they traded in long ago for their God- ball practice. You know it. I waste a good forty minutes given sense of logic. Man, they got screwed on that deal, each day jacking off. Every few hours I duck into a lone because now all that is left is empty progressive notions bathroom stall, broom closet or tall shrubbery and shameful- and a belief that changing young, all-too-malleable minds ly fondle my genitalia. Masturbating that much is simply is actually a worthwhile feat, as if stomping on play dough unhealthy, because my body can’t produce semen as quickly and seeing it squish could give you a sense of accomplish- as I can shoot in into an old sweat sock. By the end of the ment. So, they keep going and going in a glassy-eyed yet day, my body is so totally drained I have to power yank for energetic manner like the Energizer bunny on PCP and fifteen minutes just to produce a chalky white puff of dust. mescaline, tossing their swill in a fashion that’s as liberal By that time my hand has gone numb and my wrist is cramp- as their Marxist sensibilities. Hegemony here, class war- ing. That’s not good. What was once an entertaining hobby fare there. I guess it just beats you down after a while, but is now a time-consuming obsession. I used to be happy with I still hate it. Vaseline; now I have to heat up baby oil. An old Playboy used to get me horny as hell, now I have to roll around naked INSPEKTAH BRET in a pile of gay erotica. Hell, once a week I pay a Bulgarian Biker named Bolva twenty dollars to shout obscenities while she watches me humble myself. I’m like a yuppie with a frappuccino, only my vice isn’t hazelnut and steamed milk — it’s German snuff films. CAPPASTONA

I HATE THE GIRLS WHO LIVE UPSTAIRS

Most college kitchens are a familiar sight: piles of dishes, random bottles, and overflowing trash. Now imagine all this with the sound of someone continuously vomiting in the background. While you get to turn your eyes to the next Two I HATE DIET SODA Minutes Hate piece and escape that reality, I can’t. Why? Because I live downstairs from four of the most bitchy, Let’s get something straight: soda — or pop, or whatever annoying, light weight drinking girls in all of Lane County. I you call it in whatever part of the country you’re from — could almost get over that whole bitchy and annoying thing is bad for you. It dehydrates your body, rots your teeth, and if they could hold their liquor, but obviously, they can’t. I if you happen to be a guy, it can make your testicles shrink. know this because five out of seven nights a week I get to lis- So what’s the point in getting diet liquid-crack as opposed ten to all four of them regurgitate various forms of alcohol to regular liquid-crack? Crack is crack. It’s like getting off their balcony, which is a mere 8 inches to the left of my “light” cigarettes —instead of lingering in pain from lung kitchen window. It’s like some sort of puking symphony. I cancer for 3 months before dying, you can buy light ciga- can recognize the different pukers, listening to their cries of rettes and linger for a precious 6 months. What’s the point? “BLECHHH!” weave in and out of each other. It’s gotten to If you’re going to go out there and destroy your body, why the point where I can tell which ones are throwing up, what not go all out? Screw this “diet” crap; get something like they’ve had to drink and how much they drank. One has a Mountain Dew, or Jolt. That’s the crack you want. Shrink real penchant for wine coolers, let me tell you. those nads at record speed! CHEF RAECHEL CHEF RAECHEL

22 OREGON COMMENTATOR HATE

I HATE THE FIFTEENTH AMENDMENT

The Bill of Rights was bad enough, but then those doddering I HATE HYPE WILLIAMS old fools went and passed that damn 15th Amendment. Every I never thought I’d say it, but I’m sick of seeing booty in rap time I look at the 15th Amendment I want to vomit up my videos. Hype Williams has more or less mastered the art of Trix, which, while supposedly just for kids, makes for great the tightly framed two-cheeks-in-a-thong shot, and I’m not emphasis when puking in political protest. Unless you count sure that music videos are any better for it. Remember when the election of FDR and the creation OSHA, there are few Hype made cool videos like Tupac’s “California Love” and worse political blunders in American history than the passage Busta Rhymes’ “Put You Hands Where My Eyes Can See.” of the Big 15. I mean, seriously, why did they think that Now his videos alternate between ass shots, car shots, more allowing 18-year-olds to vote was a good idea? Nobody that ass shots, and some fat rapper in a jacuzzi. What happened, young, or inherently stupid, should have a say in public. Hell, man? Paul Hunter and the rest of your peers have moved it’s debatable whether they should even be allowed in public onto bigger, better things. You’re still hanging with Nas and in the first place. Has America really fallen so far that they Puffy, waiting for your big film break. Take a lesson from think it’s a good idea to let the same people you’re trying to Spike Jonze and drop the video gig. draft into war against their own will be allowed to have any influence in whether or not the country engages in war in the CAPPASTONA first place? And do you think 18-year-olds appreciate what we’ve given them? Not on the coldest day in hell, amigo. They get everything handed to them on a silver platter, from inflated high school grades to free condoms with which to engage in their licentious Chevy Nova backseat brothel activities. In fact, those ungrateful bastards don’t even take advantage of their right to vote; they’re the least likely fran- chised voter to have their voice heard. Instead, most of ‘em shout at the wind about Chilean cotton pickers’ rights and let the senile old lady down the street vote on a strict “free pre- scriptions and goiter removal” platform. That, in a nutshell, is why I hate the 15th Amendment. That is the 15th, right? Oh, shit. INSPEKTAH BRET

I HATE MTV

If you haven’t contacted your local cable operator and told them to remove MTV from your cable package, then you should do so now. All that’s left of MTV is the perpetual photo-op for talentless acts trying to get by on T&A alone. “Total Request Live” was a cool concept at first, a sort of I HATE HATE “American Bandstand” for the teenybopper generation, but now it’s just a bunch of Britney clones and rap-metal Hate is such a horrible, ugly thing. Why? What’s the point of hybrids. The station used to have engaging personalities as this contempt for all that surrounds me? I belittle others in an hosts, now they give us Tech. For a real “Music Television” attempt to make myself feel more powerful and secure, all station, try to get M2, which is the best thing to happen to the while masking the true problem – my lack of self-esteem. music videos since… MTV. What’s it all for? Is this solving anything? Am I even reach- ing anyone? Oh wait, those are my pants. Never mind. CAPPASTONA CHEF RAECHEL

MAY 30, 2001 23 HATE

IHATE THE ASUO

B EUTLER B Y W ILLIAM

D id you know that you could overthrow the ASUO? text. Currently, the “recognized student government” is the ASUO. You could, with a couple of friends and enough posters stapled to So: Who is to say that the ASUO could not be knocked from its the kiosk at 13th and University, and maybe even a full-page ad in perch of ‘recognition’? Even the law itself seems to hint at a coup this magazine, for good measure. It wouldn’t be all that much trou- d’état: that body is now the Student Senate. That “now,” more ble, except maybe a single academic term’s worth of commitment telling than it appears at first glance, could become a was, were the and the cojones to pull it off. effort properly applied. It’s even written into state law. In fact, all the legalese you The question I put to you is: Just how legitimate can a student would need to justify such an effort is to be found in the first two government be considered when a fifteen percent voter turnout is a sections of the so-called Clark Document — that being a wayward ten-year high? shred of state law authorizing the State of Oregon to direct a sum If you’re as quick as I hope you are, presuming your education at of money, collected by this university, to be disbursed by whatever this presumably esteemed liberal arts college, then you should recog- rudderless students get caught on board this ship called the ASUO. nize that the legitimacy of the ASUO is only as legitimate as you say. It reads, and I quote: “The student incidental fee has been Imagine this: one day early in spring term, a voters’ guide sur- authorized by the Oregon Legislature to provide for the ‘cultural faces, identifying candidates for various offices — in the and physical development of students.’” By that, you might think University of Oregon Student Association (UOSA) primaries. that the state house and senate have approved an unspecified sum There are posters affixed to various bulletin boards. to be spent on dim sum and pick-up basketball games — which Advertisements in both the Emerald and COMMENTATOR. A debate wouldn’t really be so bad, if that were the case. is held in Willamette 100. After a week of campaigning, voting Instead, the Clark Document (Clark for Robert D. Clark, booths are placed outside various administration buildings, aca- namesake of the Honors College — this will come up later, I prom- demic halls and the student union. Voting commences. ise — and former university president) continues as such: “The I argue, and I think it not an unrealistic argument, that if the University of Oregon acknowledges the right of recognized student UOSA elections were to poll higher than those of the ASUO, that government, in exercise of its delegated power and through its con- the truly “recognized student government” would have to be the stitution, to elect a body to make fee recommendations to the one recognized recognized by the voters. OSBHE [Oregon State Board of Higher Education]. That body is Imagine: all the hirelings and interns in Suite Four without a now the ASUO Senate.” The emphasis is all mine. place to sit around and plan trips to Salem in pink highlighter pen! Read the above paragraph again, considering the italicized OSPIRG depending on door-to-door donations and bake sales to

24 OREGON COMMENTATOR HATE buy lobbyists! Student groups actually contributing their own Breslow’s thesis — if you could so degrade the term as to call money (instead of soaking Jane and Joe Incidental Fee-Payer) to it that — is that the incidental fee is a justifiable tax, contributing to the programs they care about! the benefit of the individual as well as the public, and so student And you, of course, as the ringleader of this play government, government should continue collecting money from all students only slightly more legitimate than the current game of let’s-play- matriculating at the university. Or as he so eloquently put it in his government in the EMU, would surely be voted President. opening statement: “I am absolutely in love with the incidental fee!” So what are you waiting for? To the majority of the students in the classroom, the matter was, as once-defeated ASUO Exec candidate C.J. Gabbe — unri- valed as the geekiest person to sit at my lunch table in sixth grade — is wont to say, it is an “access issue.” A fter four years at this school, I am now finally convinced Not all students have the financial ability to pay for the pro- that no one working within the system as described in the Green grams they’d like to participate in, so it makes sense to have all stu- Tape Notebook (with the possible exception of Jennifer Creighton) dents contribute to a fund controlled by elected student officials, is really in charge. That goes double for this year. they say. So-called underrepresented groups deserve to have their Mostly, the wonks who populate the ASUO are twenty-five diverse viewpoints known, which the fee helps facilitate, they say. years removed from the New Left that took over student govern- I say that I agree: it is an access issue — but not quite of the ments across the nation — because they couldn’t have the nation, sort they imagine. I say it is an issue of letting students — on an but settled, instead taking over what it could — and now they individual, not collective basis — have access to their own money. haven’t the slightest idea how to keep doing what their parents did. At least make it optional — at the start of every term you could col- So they keep fighting for peoples of ethnicity who will do just fine lect a partial refund on your incidental fee, so long as you are not for themselves without their help. And wrenching their hands about involved with the ASUO or its programs. intolerance whenever someone in a position of authority acciden- This perspective was utterly anathema to them. Don’t we have tally uses a term deemed politically incorrect. And getting indig- an obligation to to support the community we belong to? they nant whenever the Oregon Daily Emerald runs an advertisement asked. In as open-minded and reasonable a manner as I could sum- for the Silver Dollar Club. mon, I tried to explain: I hold that the only responsibility that any free person has to the “community” is to follow the golden rule, not interfere with anyone, and do their best in what they choose. Translated to the Eugene, Oregon campus: the cost of student pro- The ASUO embodies the grams should be borne by the participants. Is that so much to ask? In that particular classroom on that particular day, respect for worst attributes of liberalism: the very basic underpinnings of freedom was far more than I could expect. The student senator who led the discussion and had invited me to speak, reputed to be fiscally conservative in the EMU Board it’s whiny, it’s sanctimonious, Room on Wednesdays at 7:00 p.m., withdrew from the fray, and was not heard from until the end of class. it doesn’t get anything accom- Still, I kept pursuing my line of reasoning: Many — and I would venture, most — students come to this university for an education and a degree — not to be a member of a required organiza- plished, and most galling, they tion calling itself the ASUO. Breslow’s argument that the fee is an essential element of the school’s educational atmosphere is inde- want everyone to pay for it. fensible. It sure may be for Jay Breslow, who has served on various diversity and multicultural committees since he was a Hillsboro high school student. And Political Science, 3PM and Finance majors derive a real benefit from the ASUO. It puts inches on the The ASUO embodies the worst attributes of liberalism: it’s resume, it pays more money than the same effort (not to mention whiny, it’s sanctimonious, it doesn’t get anything accomplished, results) would elsewhere, and hey, it’s the right thing to do. and most galling, they want everyone to pay for it. Furthermore, if student government truly were so integral to I suppose I can best illustrate this contention with an extended one’s intellectual development — a premise so ridiculous I’m anecdote. So I will: laughing beer through my nose at this very moment, but let’s pre- Several months ago, I had the particular displeasure of arguing tend — then the University would certainly require some form of against the legitimacy of the incidental fee — which, if I have not ASUO service before one earned an undergraduate degree. so specified already, is exactly that sum of money authorized by the But raw numbers alone will illustrate that the ASUO has little questionable and inconstant Clark Document — versus the current to offer the majority of students on this campus. As Breslow admit- ASUO president, Jay Breslow, in front of an especially hostile ted during the debate, even if every student actually did get Honors College colloquia. involved with the ASUO, there wouldn’t be enough money to go

MAY 30, 2001 CONTINUED ON PAGE 41 25 HATE

I Hate the University of Oregon

By Eric Pfeiffer

The University of Oregon used to be about the last place I dent leaders took more of a hands-off approach to the individual would expect to push me toward a more conservative way of liberty of their patrons and focused more attention on promoting thinking. But that’s exactly what’s happened. On the cusp of academics, community services and fund-raising efforts, the mood graduation, I find myself happy, healthy and ready to start a new would still favor the left — but at least you wouldn’t have to both- career. Yet I also find myself more fiscally conservative, suspi- er anyone who doesn’t want to be bothered. Institutions of envi- cious of people’s motives and questioning the validity of the far ronmental activism on campus claim to have played a role in pre- left. For making me feel almost like a Republican, I hate the serving 65 million acres of national forest land last year, which University of Oregon. should be just enough to satisfy their demand for political posters The University of Oregon is an institution of higher learning next year. Suddenly, I find myself wanting to become a yuppie. that handles its financial and academic stability like the Blazers Liberal fundamentalism is the status quo on campus, enforced respond to playoff pressure. In the face of challenging odds, we with nearly the same methods religious conservatives use to push somehow find a way to make the situation even more ridiculous. oppressive ideology upon the non-secular population. It’s a faith- We’ll fire one of our most successful athletic coaches, but won’t based initiative with little to no basis in reason. Most of all, I sim- hire qualified professors to teach fundamental academic courses. ply wish those with the unfortunate need to label themselves polit- It’s a clash of political styles that makes moderate Democrats the ical activists would just stop preaching to and leeching off the con- conservative base, and trust-fund, aspiring Marxist revolutionaries verted. How many times do I need to be reminded that I represent the dominant voice of authority. It’s a place where in the 21st the “dominant paradigm of the sexually oppressive and racist Century we have former Reagan campaign volunteers leading a homophobic iconoclastic corporate monolith dragon?” I thought I bad punchline called the anarchist community. And that’s just wanted to buy a decent pair of running shoes. I guess if you just in the Political Science Department. had to explain it to me, I just wouldn’t understand. If University administrators and stu- Perhaps the best metaphor for the University can be found in

26 OREGON COMMENTATOR HATE one of its very own creations: the EMU amphitheater. Both are University’s previous failures; bloated and immune to reason. paid for by a large amount of student fees and both seem to hold Bureaucracy works when it’s able to evolve and meet new the potential for a larger purpose. demands. While the University community seems willing to bend to Of course, in reality both see their vision mostly unrealized and public and political pressures, the latest experiments in liberal activism look really depressing on a cold, rainy day. Both also play host to controlled by select elites has been unable to overcome the major prob- an assortment of shitty music, but the University has an entire aca- lems still facing the University: academic excellence and a shrinking demic department dedicated to that purpose, while the amphitheater public budget. If those directing the future of the University of Oregon is randomly filled with near-homeless aspiring jam-band types. With the UO and its amphitheater, their most effective activities seems to be when they are used as a bastion of shame. The How many times do I need to amphitheater with its rotating schedule of Bible Jim, anti-abortion groups and theater department skits. The University, with its near- be reminded that I represent bottom-of-the-nation rated residence halls, deficit feeding EMU and women’s volleyball team. And, of course, both have symbolic lead- the “dominant paradigm of the ership in the form of a few strategically placed knobs. Pray for rain. Actually, don’t worry about it, it’s going to rain anyway. sexually oppressive and racist With the millions that are funneled into student fees, you’d think students might actually have some control over the direction homophobic iconoclastic cor- of their academic investment. That money could be used to build porate monolith dragon?” new computer labs, increase shuttle services, or at least put better- paid and more qualified teachers in the classroom. Instead, a small group of near mongoloid zombies fight to hold various non-uni- truly want it to have a successful future, they need to learn and appre- versity entities “accountable,” and it all adds up to something just ciate the delicate balance between activism and fiscal security. short of meaning. These problems can’t be addressed overnight, and they can’t If love and hate are intertwined emotions, then perhaps I can- be fixed by simply infringing on the liberty of students through not fairly say that I truly hate the University of Oregon. After all, greater taxes on their academic pursuits. We didn’t have a problem if there is one thing lacking in my heart for this establishment, it’s getting that message across to conservative extremists like Jerry affection. Fight Club author Chuck Palahniuk couldn’t get a job on Falwell. Now, the same attention must be paid those on the far left the Emerald staff and former United States Senator Paul Simon who are quickly turning the University of Oregon into their own couldn’t even bear to finish his degree here. There must be some- brave new world. You’ve helped turn a lifelong liberal Democrat thing wrong with this place beyond the open-mic poetry night in into a moderate libertarian. the Buzz coffeehouse. This is probably the best route for my own future, but it About five years ago, the University seemed like it was head- doesn’t bode well for the success of a University that is jeopard- ing in the right direction. We’d been moving up the academic rat- izing its academic and financial credibility. ing tiers, our athletic teams had been competitive on a national level and the alumni were, until last year, happy to make up the difference in the lack of public funding. Unfortunately, the new voices at the Eric Pfeiffer will be performing live, June 14-30 at the Golden podium are a lot like the same old voices that contributed to the Nugget in Las Vegas, Nevada. Just as soon as he is done with this hateful school, and the OREGON COMMENTATOR

MAY 21, 2001 27 HATE I Hate Oregon State University

By Zach Evenson

G reetings, high school graduates. As of now, you are in You’re most likely here because: all likelihood eagerly awaiting your enrollment into the academy of prestige and sophistication that you’ve come to know as college. 1) You liked to build model airplanes as a kid and take apart your Stanford, here I come! right? Wrong. Your overexposure to cath- father’s favorite electric razor, so you’ve decided to embark upon a ode rays and those pre-SAT bong rips have pretty much precluded career as an engineer. You will quickly discover that being an engi- any possibility you ever had for actually gaining a real higher edu- neering major is a hell of a lot more difficult than being an actual cation. If Ivy League turns out to be a letdown (like there was any engineer. This is made painfully clear by the fact that you’re taking doubt), and the ambiance at [Insert County Name Here] Community college algebra during your sophomore year, but your car’s seat belt College just isn’t cultured enough for your Douglas-County-ass doesn’t work because you’re too stupid to tie a goddamn knot in it. palette, then your only alternative, besides “Professional Green Chain Specialist,” is state college. If you happen to find yourself in 2) You decided to come to OSU to experience some of that a melting pot of bleached-blond frat guys driving Honda Civics with “diversity” they’re always plugging in the brochures. But it options more expensive than the car itself, pseudo-high-class turns out that particular type of diversity is only Division 1A high school athletes and more chain-smoking sorority found in the latest version of Adobe girls than you can shake a “Go Beavers” football pennant at, then Photoshop and a few pictures of somebody’s welcome. You are at Oregon State University. black cousin who attends the UO.

3) You thought that at least here you won’t be forced to smoke marijuana and protest like I hear they do at the University of Oregon. However, after three weeks of listening to your overzealous philosophy professor, you will be ready to fight the good fight against corporate America and smoke a bowl. And once you’re here, you will find plenty of things to hate about it.

UNIVERSITY HOUSING AND DINING SERVICES University Housing isn’t actually a major part of the evil, but they’re apt to turn a blind eye when you’ve been sexually abused by the administration. The kind folks at the UHDS are the people that take care of your student food accounts and identification cards. They’re also the people who charge you just a penny less than your eternal soul for an ID card replacement. My advice to you: sew that frig- gin’ card to your forehead and proudly boast that silly-ass half-stoned grin that you’ll be showing the schlemiels at the cafeteria for the next three to four years. The sly use of the word “Dining” in UHDS is a prime example of OSU’s sublim- inal manipulation. “Dining” usually suggests a sumptuous meal, served with a refreshing beverage (not “drink”... beverage) and a side of good-natured ambiance that fills even the darkest and

28 OREGON COMMENTATOR HATE

gloomiest of crevasses with a kind of wholesome virginal incandes- guy whom we lovingly call Acid Zeb who could probably beat these cence. Yet on most days of the week I’d settle for anything other girls three out of five games at Candyland. than that fucking applesauce stuffing they’re constantly touting like I’d have to say that the best thing about the first year experience it scored a 1600 on its SATs. I also refuse to believe that the assort- at OSU is your “First Month Lay.” Everyone who has been to college ment of sorority girls’ fractured recollections of the previous night’s knows what I’m talking about. Even if you were the weirdo in high unbridled beer-fueled cockfest, are radiating anything even compa- school who ate his own earwax and snuck into the girls locker room rable to a virginal incandescence. (I’d like to apologize to two of the to steal the dirty socks, I can guarantee that before your first month at girls from the Delta Delta Delta sorority house. In my defense, I OSU is over, even you will get some tang. Granted, it’s probably not think every girl coming back from the walk of shame needs to be going to be the best you’ve ever had, and when it comes to sanitation, embarrassed — but I will admit that throwing my scrambled eggs at let’s just say that I’m still pissing out shit that makes the tip of a hero- you and shouting “J’accuse!” probably was a bit over the line.) in syringe found in a Queens sewer seem like the clean room at Intel. Nevertheless, no matter how unappealing and downright offensive Yet as good as it sounds, it will never, ever happen again. So say the food may be, there’s always someone scarfing it down like he has goodbye to your penis, because from now on you’ll probably get as his execution to attend right afterwards. much use out of it as Ken Simonton’s communications degree.

THE DORMS THE BEAVS First off, don’t expect to have any “special privileges” just Yes, it’s finally come up: OSU’s crowning achievement: the because you’re paying twice as much as you would for an off-cam- “Beavs.” If you now find yourself asking questions like “What pus apartment with four times the space and without a person who, about Linus Pauling, the only person to ever win two unshared after the first month, becomes more like a cellmate than a roommate. Nobel Prizes? Didn’t he graduate from OSU?” Well, Linus sure Don’t be too surprised when you find yourself smuggling silverware was a smart cookie, but can he throw a touchdown pass? The main up from the cafeteria downstairs. The dorms are a good first start to issue with the Beavs is that you’re either with them or against them; your college experience, but don’t become one of those people who people here don’t take kindly to ambiguity. And if you try to refer feel like it’s all one big family. They are asking for you to beat them to them by their full name instead of the “Beavs,” people will think like an alcoholic stepfather. Another thing about the dorm life: for the you’re talking about a new porno flick or the small aquatic rodents most part you’ll meet some pretty cool people, but remember to that inhabit most of North America. Be prepared for when the foot- establish your dominance the first day. It’s like prison: shank some- ball fever pandemic hits OSU. Don’t be astonished when even one or get shanked; find a bitch or you’ll be one. If you’re one of the some of your more innocuous and dull professors turn into football many Americans who enjoy getting to bed early so they can get a full simians, flinging their feces in undying support for the home team. night’s sleep, then file that dream under “Shit That Will Never A typical question such as, “Uh, excuse me Dr. Watson, how Happen,” along with banging that hot redhead in Chemistry and the would you go about separating the variables of this second order rock star fantasy you’ve had since you first mulled over the sight of differential equation?” might yield a response like, “Well, you can 18-year-old groupies swarming around Steven Tyler of Aerosmith separate them like ‘THE BEAVS ARE GONNA SEPARATE JOEY like rednecks at a NASCAR rally. But you can’t really get irate at HARRRINGTON’S HEAD FROM HIS FREAKIN’ BODY!!! these people for staying up until 4 a.m., because when your comput- AND THEN GO SECOND ORDER ALL OVER HIS ASS!!! GO er goes on the fritz, you’ll know whom to go to. Sure, you’ll get the BEAVS!!!!’” customary charge of five bucks or so, but after he’s done with it, not only is your e-mail working again, but the back of your computer has I believe that my time has already expired. I’m late for my enough fans, wires and black-market instruments to make Chang, appointment to get my hair frosted. And my girlfriend at Omega your neighbor double-majoring in math and electrical engineering, Chi needs her pack of lights before the store closes. I just hope that close up shop and start on a theology degree. I have enough gas left in the Civic.

GIRLS It’s time to face it: OSU girls are a lot different than the floozies you dealt with in high school. First, you have to believe that since these girls attend college, they are sophisticated and intellectually complex — and you also have to believe that if you eat enough wild mushrooms, you really can see God, and that he’s playing foosball with David Schwimmer. OK, so maybe some of these girls aren’t Zach Evenson, a physics major at Oregon State University, is a that sophisticated, and when it comes to brains — well, I know a friend of the OREGON COMMENTATOR

MAY 30, 2001 29 TWO MINUTES HATE

I HATE THE LAKERS

I hate the fat and ugly Shaquille O’Neal, whom I will not refer to as “The Big Aristotle,” because I refuse to connect the man who wrote Poetics with the man who starred as the rapping genie Kazaam. I hate the smarmy little pretty boy Kobe Bryant who routinely scores 40 points a game because he refuses to pass the ball to his fellow pretty boy teammates. I hate Rick Fox, who is married to Vanessa Williams. I hate how NBC finds it necessary on every Lakers broadcast to scan the crowd for celebrities. I hate how only at the Staples Center are people like Dyan Cannon still considered celebrities. I hate the Lakers’ purple and yellow uniforms. I hate how they remind me of the rich, snooty popular kids in junior high you pretended to like so they wouldn’t make fun of you. I hate that they are cheating, flopping, violent ball-hogs, rivaled only by Karl Malone and John Stockton. And then there’s Phil Jackson, who is such an amazing prick that I hope Michael Jordan does stage a come- back just so the ridiculous Wizards can beat the living hell out of Phil Jackson and his Nietzsche-reading, yoga-practicing ass. DRAMATICA

I HATE TREES

That’s right, you self-important environmental bigots. I hate those freestanding towers of unprocessed two-by- fours you refer to as “trees.” What they are a is waste of space — an over-protected waste of space — and they get in the way, too. Trees might innocent and friendly, but then one appears out of nowhere on the ski slope, and just how friendly are they then? Next thing you know, you have a I HATE FLOWERS mouth-full of bark. I even suspect that trees are trying to take over the world. They’ve managed to cross breed with Flowers are not pretty or romantic. They contain pollen. other humans, thus creating people like Al Gore, Munger which stings my nose and makes my throat itchy and eyes and Pinocchio. Using these human spies, trees have con- water. and sometimes if you smell a flower, a bee jumps out vinced the world that there should be more trees. These and stings you in the eye or flies into your mouth and goes people may be hard to spot, but they do exist. And they are apeshit and stings the hell out of your tongue. And flowers out to get you. The best way to find out if a person is half- are the symbol of love. but flowers are expensive and then tree is to see how they interact with other trees. If they sit they die all of a sudden before you even have a chance to do in the shade and read, they are probably human. If they are anything about it. Flowers wilt and leave you heartbroken. trying to mate with a spruce, then there is a pretty good Just like Tricia did on prom night. Don’t think I’m over it chance they have some sap in their blood. I hate trees so yet, honey. It’s gonna take me a long time to forgive what much I am often filled with the urge to go out to a national you did to me. He was my best friend? How could you! forest with a chain saw and carve my name in 90 ft. letters. Everytime I close my eyes, all I think of is you and him, Some days I want to cut down the biggest, oldest tree on writhing around naked together, screaming out incompre- campus and turn it into a giant bonfire. Other days I think: hensible words in the throws of unimaginable ecstacy. And why stop with that one? I truly hate all trees, but mostly what do I have to remember you by? Just that damn orchid because it pisses people off. corsage that’s still in my fridge! Flowers be damned. GHOSTFACE LOGGAH DRAMATICA

30 OREGON COMMENTATOR HATE

I HATE YOU

I may not know you, but chances are I hate you. At one point or another, you probably did something that pissed me off. You could be that moron in my economics class that insists on holding things up by asking questions about math you should have learned in fourth grade. Hey, genius, maybe you should learn how to do multiplication before you get to college. You could be the person that thinks it’s funny to relieve yourself on the stairway of the residence hall. If you are reading this, you sick bastard, did it ever occur to you to use the toilet? Despite what you think, I do not like going to class while your vodka-laden piss fills the air. You could be that asshole that decides to honk your stupid horn at three in the morning while waiting for your equally noisy and idiot- ic friends to get downstairs. Then you gun the engines as you drive away. Yeah, if you’re reading this, I hope your goddamned car blows up and you die in a flaming ball of debris. And you, the guy who likes to jump on his motorcy- cle at ungodly hours and run laps around the residence hall: I hope you run head first into that other guy’s car just as it explodes. You could be that self-righteous prick who takes all the COMMENTATORS out of the box, thus forcing me to restock the stupid thing. Hey, ever heard of free speech, you stupid enviro-nazi? Why don’t you just go back to Suite One and stick a tree in your pie hole instead of making my day harder. Hell, you could be any one of thousands of people, through stupidity or blatant asshole tendencies, who keep me in a constant state of hatred. From you, the prick that nearly runs me over while crossing Agate street, to you, the moron in the laundry room who takes my still wet cloths out of the dryer and throws them into the dirtiest corner, I truly hate you. Even if you haven’t done anything to me yet, sooner or later you will. You are a stupid, selfish, annoying I HATE THE METER MAID waste of flesh, and I hate you. That goddamned meter maid. This woman is worse than a GHOSTFACE LOGGAH KGB officer. She cruises Moss Street in her pretentious little Pope Mobile like an out-of-town John, looking to violate your car with her Holy Ghost, if you know what I mean. Then she marks your tire with paint, (FYI: you can wipe it off) magically to return exactly when your time is up and writes you a ticket. Try to get away? Ha! She’ll remember I HATE IT WHEN MY ROOMMATE ASKS, your license and mail you the ticket. She has a goddamn “CAN I HAVE SOME OF THAT?” crew cut (very becoming) and wears those cheesy, tinted cop glasses, for Christ’s sake. I wouldn’t doubt if there’s a mus- No, you cannot have “some of that.” I went to the store to get tache above that evil grin. But don’t cross the bitch or the tag it. I paid for it. I prepared it, and now I’m going to eat it. Tell hag will give you the boot – literally. me what it looks like to have a good meal, since I can’t watch myself chew. Jerk. OL’ DIRTY WAMPLER CHEF RAECHEL

MAY 30, 2001 31 HATE

I Hate Alcohol

lcohol is,” as Homer Simpson By Ezra McGillicuddy once said — and is often quoted “A around the COMMENTATOR office — “the cause of, and solution to all life’s problems.” Only recently, however, have I come to realize the truthfulness with which they speak. does it apply elsewhere. Children that excel in academics at an Through my experiences, I have come to early age are no longer required to remain in the classroom with believe that it is not merely alcohol that the the kids of “average” intelligence. Special cases require special drinker comes to hate, but in fact, the contra- treatment, as in the aforementioned example. Who is to say a per- dictory properties it holds and the effects it has son under the age of 21, an individual, for example, who is will- upon an individual. I will explain: ing to give his life for this country, should not be able to partake in the act of alcohol consumption for themselves?

Drinking is OK; drinking is not OK “Daddy, he taught me to drink whiskey, but Drinking makes you feel good; drinking makes you feel bad my mama, she died from drinking gin.” “While I say to my best friend, can’t you see what a mess I’m in...” All through high school and early college At night when you drink, it feels good; however, in the morn- years parents, the police and this fine ing you don’t. It’s nearly 9 o’clock and you are uncertain what the University (i.e. through the Office of Student evening holds for you. The evening begins and you are a little Life’s extremely awkward and pointless ad timid. The evening goes on and you drink more and more, end up campaigns) all tell you that drinking is not OK. walking home, throwing up on yourself. You don’t feel good now, We are taught from an early age that alcohol do you? And worse yet, you missed your morning classes. consumption requires a certain level of respon- Drunken evenings have even been known to cause you to shut sibility, possessed only by those older than that girlfriends’ heads in the door. Later, you lie naked while smiling magic number: 21. However, while this age- at your crying girlfriend and asking her if she'd like some pizza. based “readiness” applies to alcohol, rarely Not fun in the morning.

32 OREGON COMMENTATOR HATE

Drinking makes you remember; drinking Drinking will make you friends; drinking will cost you friends makes you forget “I had me a sweet woman, my till the sun don’t shine, I came “I remember my first job, I was singing with home one morning early, I found her with a friend of mine... and a band...” I’ve never seen her to this day.” If you are among those who choose to drink What begins as a social tool can easily grow into a social prob- excessively, you know the absolute truth of the lem. Alcohol facilitates interaction, conversation with girls and above statement. You know the scene: you see fosters a sense of belonging. The social setting of a bar and the an old friend one night while out drinking, and alcohol itself both allow for this. Bars create a surreal atmosphere: hours later the conversation has turned into an an escape. Take a look around any neighborhood bar and this phe- emotional recollection of the good ol’ days. nomenon will become clear. In one corner, you can see people Without alcohol, you might be tempted to let the having a good time, enjoying good company and good conversa- opportunity slip by with just a cordial, “Hello, tion. Then take a look at that other end of the bar and you will see how’ve you been?” But thanks to the bottle, the the negative effects alcohol can have on an individual. That conversation flows for hours and hours, round depressed, older-looking fellow at the end of the bar once thought after round. On the contrary, no matter how deep drinking was fun, too. or drawn out that conversation might have been, you will awaken the next morning without any recollection of the previous evening. Conclusion “What am I living for? Why am I living, why am I giving all of my life...” Alcohol is cheap; Alcohol is expensive The contradictory effects of alcohol are amazing. The mem- “Every payday came around, I’d take my ories alcohol creates tends to be dismissed from your memory money from the man. He said now spend it wise- nearly as quickly as you notice you are out of money or have lost ly, boy. Or save it while you have the time. But your girlfriend. While you are still somewhat able to see the path I got drunk on the stand and I blew the band, alcohol will take, before it ultimately destroys you, go to a bar — now I’m standing in the unemployment line.” not your regular place, but an out-of-the-way watering hole As any well-educated drunk can tell you, where drunks sulk. Sit down, observe those around you and lis- getting drunk is, and can be, cheap. A bottle of ten in on conversations. Alcohol works in funny ways. wine can sell for as little as three dollars. A beer Love it, respect it, honor it. Always trust it and never trust it. can sell for as little as $1.09 for the 40oz. can of Alcohol will be there when you need it and it will be there when Steel Reserve (not recommended). One can pur- you don’t. Enjoy it while you can. chase a bottle of liquor for slightly less than a pack of cigarettes or as expensive as the annual cost of your drug habit(s). You can sit on your couch and get as smashed as humanly possible, puking all over yourself, your couch, your bathroom and making an overall ass of yourself, without the expense of going out to a bar and Ezra McGillicuddy, a nom de plume if dealing with the many frat-dicks (or Taylor’s there ever was one, wrote entire text of bartenders; often one and the same) one must this article either: a) at a bar, b) while deal with on an average evening out. What might intoxicated, and c) after waking with not seem like a low cost — an afternoon drink- an intense hangover or with the lin- ing and a headache in the morning — can actu- gering jitters of a weeklong bender. ally cost much more. Ever had a little too much Often several of the above at a time. to drink and buy a couple of extra rounds? Lines Lyrics courtesy the Mark-Almond song of perception become blurred after a few too “What Am I Living For.” many; acts occur that would not have without the alcohol. Things can easily get out of control when classes are missed, employment is lost and your life seems to be unmanageable — a phrase often heard at AA meetings. What’s an afternoon, you ask? But for the pattern alcoholic, that afternoon spirals into an eternity.

MAY 30, 2001 33 HATE

Each residence hall comes complete with a walking prick known as an RA (that’s Resident Asshole). These are the people put in resi- IHATE dence halls so parents of freshmen will believe there is actually someone in charge. There are basically two types of RA’s: the invisible RA UNIVERSITY and the power trip RA. The invisible RA is the best kind because, frankly, as long as the ceiling isn’t caving in around them, they couldn’t possibly HOUSING care less about the drunken antics going on upstairs. The power trip RA is not really that bad, just horribly inept. These people patrol the halls at 10pm and ask me to turn my stereo down because some people might be trying to sleep. This is 10pm on a Friday night. Yet these endlessly helpful individuals somehow disappear on Wednesday night when someone decides to play full-contact street hockey in the hallway at 4am. These people are so horribly ignorant that it is possible to carry a passed-out, 260- pound drunk down four flights of stairs without anyone noticing. Despite their utter incompetence, they still walk around like the loser high school hall monitors that they once were, in their never-ending quest to make sure that music is at an acceptable level for the first hour of the supposed quiet hours.

The terms residence hall and dorm are often used inter- changeably, yet the University of Oregon recognizes a signif- icant difference between the two. An important objective of residence halls at the UO is to provide not just BY JEREMY JONES a place to sleep, but also opportunities for personal and educational growth.

Actually, a simpler explanation would be: “People sleep in a hen entering a place like this university, everything is dorm. A residence hall is a place for people to engage in a game of best explained with about a 40 percent bullshit margin. tackle football outside my door at ungodly hours.” A residence hall W Sixty percent is true: the rest is the purest form of male is where every intoxicated female can gather and sing “Hang on bovine excrement. I know this, and my brain is adjusted for the Sloopy” at a volume that makes the fourth-floor windows rattle. I can inevitable. Given this, I was still not ready for the stunning 90 per- only imagine the racket on the third floor during one of these spon- cent of bullshit that was piled high and deep surrounding the taneous moshing parties. The residence hall is a place where we can University of Oregon’s residence halls. Looking back at the try out the fire alarm system, thus forcing an entire hall to be woken brochure they gave me at the beginning of the year, I’m not sure up and driven half-naked outside in the middle of the night. Frankly, whether to laugh or cry. sleep is one of the last things going on in the residence halls. I’m led This why we have booze. to believe that the residence hall is actually designed to keep any What follows are actual samples from UO Housing’s pamphlet noise from being inadvertently muffled. The walls must be so thin for its residence halls, followed by the swift kick of reality: that a thumbtack could completely puncture it; acoustically, the halls are designed perfectly, with the hollow, wooden furniture acting as a Resident Assistants (RAs): As student staff members, RAs are grad- woofer to amplify the sound. Let’s face it, the only personal growth uate or upper-class students with knowledge of campus resources in the residence hall is the vein on my forehead getting larger as peo- and student issues. Living in every hall of each housing complex, ple next door play grab-ass. RAs are available to answer questions, connect residents to UO And educational growth? That would be on the list of vulgar services or activities, and follow up on student concerns. slang I have developed while trying to sleep. I think it’s time to make one thing perfectly clear to whatever semi-human entity oversees the

34 OREGON COMMENTATOR HATE residence halls. The only real pur- think it would have been funny if poses of a dorm are to sleep and a someone went and brought a date, stockpile area for all the useless crap just to mock the dateless wonders. trucked in from home. The rest is The terror does not end with just material for me to poke fun at. sexual activities. Every other event has the same feel. The dances are Residence Life staff create cultural, straight out of a really bad base- social, and educational events and ment-nightclub movie, minus the activities in each hall throughout possibility of a maniac with thir- the academic year. Beach and ski teen automatic weapons suddenly trips, movie nights, special lecture opening fire while half of the series, and pizza feeds are a few Myth: Dorm life lets residents get Reality: But not in a good way. dancers turn into vampires. In fact, examples of the activities you may used to university life and broad- the only good thing about these participate in while living at the en their horizons. activities is the free food. That’s University of Oregon. the only reason I bothered showing up in the first place. I got my free These are the residence hall activities. From the beginning I snacks and retreated back to the boozed portion of the dorm. knew these had the potential to be truly sad. Opening with a moder- The residence hall trips are only slightly less puke-inducing. ately interesting idea at best, they crescendo with an endless stream About mid-January, Robbins Hall decided to take a trip to Mt. of hype in the form of flyers and posters, only to end in a spectacu- Bachelor for the weekend. The cost was $40, which seemed rather lar anticlimax that would make Tom Green yawn. The problem is inexpensive for a ski weekend at Bachelor. After 22 people com- that they are trying to promote what they would call wholesome plete with ski equipment and luggage were stuffed into two vans, I entertainment. Yet we are at college, so they are going to try to got the chance to ride in a van for three hours, enjoying all the com- impress people by being outrageous and daring, but not so much that forts of a veal-fattening pen. With relatively few near-death expe- anyone would be offended. Basically, take the worst organized high riences on the icy road, we arrived at our house for the weekend. I school event, throw in an attempt to be risqué without offending any- found out that 22 people were being put into a house that only had one and top it off with a budget of about $20. The end result is some- enough beds for twelve. On a related note, making a bed out of thing that is only slightly less pathetic than the people who attend couch cushions and a ski coat is only slightly more comfortable these gatherings on a regular basis. than passing out on the bathroom So far, the most horrific example of floor. After a day’s worth of skiing, this was the “2001 Sexpo!” To wit: there’s nothing quite like having a bunch of losers who will be lucky your spinal column twisted into the to get laid before they start wearing shape of an ampersand. adult diapers can gather in the base- Residence hall activities are ment to be surrounded by pictures primarily for the most pathetic los- of scantily clad men and women ers that use it in order to have some while throwing darts at inflated con- semblance of a social life. The rest doms. If puncturing contraceptives of the dorm-dwellers are too drunk isn’t your thing, there is the Kissing or too busy trying to get passing Kama Sutra, where you can receive grades to care about activities that sexual advice from someone who Myth: Residence hall life is a Reality: The people you live with would make a 5-year-old scream has seen less action than a convent. quiet one that will allow you to will all be on medication. The “Grow up, you poor, pathetic, Then you can end your evening by study without distraction. medication will not work. chronic masturbaters!” throwing rings at a rubber penis with none other than the Oregon Daily Emerald’s Captain Sensible. Because most people coming to campus know very few people, most Keeping in mind the repressed sexual drive of some members of new students will be assigned a roommate. In the experience of our the residence hall, I guess it’s no surprise that on Valentine’s Day, a professional staff, these roommate matches are often more success- few of them got a little rebellious. I don’t need to describe how ful than those between friends who knew each other before college. pathetic this was: the announcements spoke for themselves. Not get- We also into account the personal hours, friends, social life, ting any nookie? Then come to the basement and have a cookie and approach to cleanliness, music preferences, and age. watch horror movies! Wow, horror movies and a cookie! That’s so much better than drinking and passing out while sitting on the john. Okay, now we’re talking pure, prime-cut, USDA choice bullshit. I Unless those cookies were laced with a heavy depressant, the mood don’t know the name of the incompetent, stupid, waste of precious nat- in that room was about as depressing as a sober OC staffer. I still ural resources that put a walking alpha-male in the same room as a bit-

MAY 30, 2001 CONTINUED ON PAGE 40 35 HATE

IHATE THE HAPPIEST PLACE ON EARTH By Eric Qualheim

xhausted by the heat, his 100 pound costume and countless allure of childhood. No longer do I consider it a trip to visit my per- shrieking children, the teenager in the Mickey Mouse get- sonal friends Chip and Dale or the Seven Dwarfs. Rather, it has E up stumbles forward. The unmistakable sound of splattering become an exhausting hassle; theme parks seemed designed to suck vomit and the accompanying stench issues forth from the costume. any trace of originality or soul out of their visitors. Forbidden by theme park law, the young man cannot remove For example, strolling the grounds of Disneyland, one is sure to his Mickey head under any circumstances. It’s certainly a fireable notice the “Photo Opportunity” signs, brought to you by Kodak. offense, and may be punishable by death. At the very least, reveal- “This,” they inform the public, “is a good place to take a picture.” ing that he is not the “real” Mickey Mouse would surely put him in Apparently anyone stupid enough to go to a Disney park also needs the stocks between Sleeping Beauty’s Castle and the Dumbo ride. to been told when and where to take pictures to remember their piti- Bowing clumsily to the assembled crowd of confused Japanese ful vacation. tourists, he retreats, out of sight, to clean himself up. These are the same people that don’t notice how oddly out of I hate the happiest place on Earth. I really do. date Tomorrow Land has become. Visitors can dine in futuristic “How,” you may be asking yourself, “can this be? Has he no cafés that look suspiciously similar to ranch houses circa 1955. soul? No sense of fun and adventure?” Futuristic inventions such as home food refrigeration devices and Well, no, not really. What am I, Indiana Jones? I think not. bread toasting machines fill the Museum of the Future. Perhaps the issue is best illustrated in story problem format. If Tomorrow Land’s sole redeeming attraction, Captain EO, star- you add: a three minute ride, a two hour wait in line and 100 degrees ring a dated, pre-blackendectomy Michael Jackson, has been on the thermometer, what do you get? Fun? Again, I think not. This removed from the park altogether after parents reported it frightened equation gets only more confusing when you consider the variables their children. of crying children, complaining elderly and dancing characters. Not even Disneyland has remained unscathed by the sword of For one thing, I don’t like being hugged by strangers on the political correctness that has sliced through the rest of the world. street. I have a sneaking suspicion that most people don’t either. Pirates of the Caribbean, the only ride worth standing in line for, has What makes Disney think that I won’t mind being molested if it’s undergone minor redesigns to alleviate the discomfort of militant by someone in a Goofy costume? Please. There are conventions for lesbians and other radical feminists. that; I don’t need it at Disneyland, too. In one classic scene, a leering robotic pirate chases a feisty Vacationing in any one of the Magic Kingdoms has lost the wench around a dimly lit tavern. However, the robot lass has been

36 OREGON COMMENTATOR HATE

modified — now there is a tray with a mug of ale on it attached to As Good As Valium her hand. Now the pirate is chasing the liquor instead of the woman. Apparently alcohol abuse is preferable to a lonely man looking for a little female companionship. The Opposite of Fun I would prefer that Disneyland be recognized for what it is: a hotbed of conspiracies. For example, working much like the Zzzzzzzzz... Gestapo, Disney’s own “Imagineers” are likely behind the University’s countless confusing e-mail servers. University Boring

Housing sometimes uses Daisy, while other departments have Might We Recommend Ether? Like Watching Paint Dry access to the Donald server. Even the undergraduate server is Chinese Water Torture Gladstone, Donald’s lucky cousin. And let’s not forget Darkwing, cleverly named after a Disney superhero. PBS I’ll let you in on another secret: You know our mascot? That’s Donald Duck. Sure, he’s been cleverly disguised by the removal of his trademark sailor suit — but it’s him. Has nobody noticed that the University is slowly being trans- formed? Sooner or later, our beloved EMU Amphitheater will be the center of Disney Northwest, as the the chain of parks consumes this campus. Tourists and children alike will wander down Main Street mentally handicapped adults. (formerly 13th Avenue) stopping to snap a picture of the friendly For the rest of us, I suggest the creation of new “lands.” Move Hob-Knoblin that guards the EMU, or go on Mr. Frog’s Wild Ride. over Adventure Land, and make way for “Penicill-Land!” That’s Bambi-like deer will be released in the new Wildlife Magic right, an area of the park reserved exclusively for adults. Free admis- attraction between Villard and Allen Halls. Visitors to the campus sion and a complimentary dose of penicillin (just in case) upon leav- will ride on the famous It’s An Unfair World ride, where tiny robot- ing would be sure to attract the elusive 18-49 year old male demo- ic protesters will sing in front of Asian factories and picket sweat- graphic. Such attractions as Madam Minnie’s Good Time Brothel shops around the world in many languages. Everything will be even would easily make this the most popular place in the Magic Kingdom. more crowded, and good luck finding a job after graduating from Or maybe a small add-on to one of the theme parks, say Disney Disney Northwest. Presents Li’l Tijuana. A magical place, Li’l Tijuana would be home But this doesn’t have to happen. There is the potential to gen- to some of the more forgettable Disney characters. Visitors could erate, using everyone on campus, an incredible amount of hate. relax in a bar, kept company by the wicked stepsisters and the Strangely, it has been directed mistakenly toward the good people of recently separated Prince Charming. After a few shots of tequila, Nike instead of our silent, but ever present, Disney overlords. I’d patrons could stumble around to mariachi music and catch a donkey like to encourage everyone to avoid the Disney parks at all costs. sex show starring none other than Winnie the Pooh’s friend Eeyore. This legacy of suckage and conspiracy is, sadly, not confined to As Disneyland approaches its fiftieth birthday, it would be a the North American Continent. Euro-Disney barely stays afloat, good idea to steer clear of California, Florida, Paris and Tokyo alto- ensnaring American tourists dazed by jet lag and too much wine as they gether. It’s just safer that way. wander the streets of Paris. On the other side of the globe, the minions The Disney organization is likely poised to thaw the body of at Tokyo Disneyland have resorted to crude mind control tricks. Walt Disney himself, frozen and waiting since 1966 to be returned Upon entering the gates of the Eastern World’s Magic Empire, to life. Now is his chance. The technology to create the robotic char- I found myself overwhelmed by an a somewhat familiar odor, albeit acters inhabiting the rides will easily be adapted to reanimate one that I couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t until I was safely back in Disney’s corpse. the United States that I realized what had happened. Tokyo With the promise of eternal life beckoning, the elderly will flock in Disneyland smells like cum. Oh, it’s a clever plot. The wily record numbers to Disneyland, crowding the streets and filling every Imagineers prowling around their tunnels and computer centers line. Rides will be out of commission for hours at a time, as geriatric deep beneath the Main Street Electrical Parade have managed to patrons are evacuated after breaking their hips on Space Mountain. forever link Tokyo Disneyland to orgasm. Masses of Japanese citi- The dangers are clear. Disneyland offers nothing but pain and zens are forgoing their post-coital cigarettes, rushing instead to their sorrow. Nothing in the park is as fun as you remember. The Magic already overcrowded public transportation systems, racing toward Kingdom is powered largely by smoke, mirrors and robots. The next Disneyland. Orgasm in Japan leads to an uncontrollable urge to time you find yourself with some vacation time and money to burn, plummet down Sprash Mountain. try Knott’s Berry Farm. Not only do they have no plans to wake the Yes, things are pretty dismal at Disneyland. But it seems unfair dead, you can buy some great jelly there too. to criticize and critique such an American institution without offer- ing some ideas for improvement. For one, the park operates on the Eric Qualheim is the latest person to have defected from the mistaken assumption that all visitors are young children, or at least Oregon Daily Emerald to the OREGON COMMENTATOR

MAY 30, 2001 37 TWO MINUTES HATE

I HATE THE DMV

Further specifications need to be made in the requirements ODIO EL CLUB DE PLATA DOLAR for being an employee of the Department of Motor Vehicles. Cuandos las chicas desnudas balan en mi silla, esta mucho True, at one point in time, I’m sure that “basic motor skills” mejor si estan llorando. Lo que odio mas que toda es evan- and “ability to be arrogant yet incredibly stupid simultane- do estoy en el bano mientras que un hombre a lado de mi esta ously” was sufficient criteria for hiring. Maybe that’s why gustandose con la memoria de las nalgas de una chica desnu- the entire DMV is staffed by French Chimpanzees. Sure, da en su cara. Odio evando estoy muy listo para mi diala they can sharpen pencils and know basic sign language, like especial con dos chicas desnudas y un hijo de puta intenta a “birthday” and “bathroom.” And they’re arrogant as hell; no robar mi momento especial. ¡No me gusta que pago mas cue one’s doubting that. But are these really sufficient pre-requi- cuatro dolares para una cerveza! Necesito ahorar mi dinero sites for a government agency? And should I really have to para dar propinas a las chicas desnudas tal vez una de ellas bribe them with bananas and mopeds every time I want a va a venir a mi casa conmigo. Estoy segura que una chica copy of my driving record? desnuda quiere estar conmigo. CHEF RAECHEL CAPPASTONA

I HATE SHO IKEDA

Who’s the most evil, reviling and sneaky member of the OC staff? You may be surprised to learn that it’s none other than Sho Ikeda, photographer, pornographer and man about town. I know what you’ll say, what they all say. “Sho’s so nice. You can’t really hate him. Look how cute he is. He’s even house-broken.” To which I reply, “On all counts you are wrong.” He is hateful, vindictive, he’ll steal your women and eat your food. Also I have photographic and anecdotal evidence that suggests that Sho is not, indeed, house-broken. Word around the office is that next year everyone’s favorite Sho Dawg (I hope you get the pun) will be taking on a managerial role within the magazine. God help us all if he ever gains a foothold of power because we’re all screwed from there on out. He has black eyes, a black soul and a long memory. Finally, a fun fact: apparently, “Sho” means “rising sun.” You bet your ass he’s taking it to heart and he’s gonna lead a campus coup to further his ASUO candidacy agenda of “more big- breasted women on campus,” and “kill whitey.” All those reasons are just jokes. The real reason I hate Sho is because he constantly resists my advances. “I like women,” he lies. Why does he fool himself? I see the way his eyes light up when Richard Simmons is on the tube and how primly he dresses. Why don’t you just come to terms, Sho? That is why I hate Sho Ikeda. And why I love him in the way only a man can love another man. I HATE THE SILVER DOLLAR CLUB INSPEKTAH BRET Wait a minute — no, I don’t. BZA

38 OREGON COMMENTATOR HATE

I HATE THE SUN I HATE PEOPLE WHO ARE DIFFERENT FROM ME Goddamn that bright yellow ball in the sky. Nothing in the When discussing an issue so inherently rife with irrational universe keeps me from studying more efficiently than the emotion and tendency toward overstatement, I choose rather sun. The sun comes out, it becomes warm, people are play- to calmly identify and examine one very specific category of ing frisbee and women don’t wear a lot of clothing. How the people that offend my sensibilities so powerfully as to raise hell am I supposed to study with that going on? The sun is my ire enough to say I hate them. With that said, I hate peo- too bright, too warm and has the ability to make any class- ple who are different than me. I really hate people who are room really uncomfortable. The sun will inevitably raise the physically different than me. Especially people who are more temperature so that not only are you swimming in your own than two inches shorter or taller than me. Those tall bastards sweat, but the hippie next to you becomes exceedingly ripe are arrogant and exude some misguided belief that their soci- as well. Of course, any motion to open a window will be etal value is somehow intrinsically linked to their towering immediately killed by the exchange student from Ecuador physique. And those short little freaks (anyone shorter than who claims to be quite comfortable. Eventually I get to 5’9”) like to use their spry little legs to dart around life like leave the EZ-Bake classroom and my eyes are greeted by the so many antisocial, angel dust-crazed leprechauns. And what full brightness of the sun. Most often I am forced to retreat about the people who purposefully choose to alter their back into the building, hissing like Dracula. More than any- appearance with ill-planned body scarring, piercings and tat- thing, the sun is reminder of what I could be doing. While I toos? You bet, I really hate them. As if this world needed any sit in some lecture hall listening to some professor drone on more freaks than Jerry’s Kids already provide, there is a about some topic I couldn’t care less about, the sun is peek- dirge of people who believe their bodies are canvases just ing through the windows, mocking me: “Hey, it’s a beautiful waiting for some Picasso-wannabe to splatter liberally with day, come outside and play... No, wait. You have to sit in the ugly stick. But looks are indeed just superficial packag- class for another hour and then you have to spend the rest of ing. I hate people who think differently than me. For some the day writing a paper that will be assigned in about five reason, there is a ridiculously over-patronized paradox with- minutes. Ha ha ha, loser!” Sometimes the sun can be a real- in American politics that on one hand claims Americans must ly cruel bastard. My life would be much better if the sun dis- continually become more democratic in its decision-making appeared. Well, actually that would turn the earth into a dark processes, while at the same time believes the role of ball of ice; that could get nippy. Either way, I hate the sun. American government is to solve all of its citizens’ problems. That logic, while pervasive, is as flawed as believing that an GHOSTFACE LOGGAH English major will ever find a job that doesn’t involve fast food, coffee grounds or a spooge mop. Either America trusts its citizens enough to make decisions about their own lives and their own government on a fundamental level or it puts its trust in its government. And speaking of that, I hate people who think everyone should trust the government to make decisions for them. If any attitude better betrays a lack of self-confidence and a willingness to let others take on the task of deciding one’s fate, I have no knowledge of it. But those are the larger groups of people who appear or behave differently than me. To be more specific, I also hate people who are better at hiding drug convictions than me, whose mere appearance doesn’t cause children to run away in hor- TWO MINUTES HATE ror — in horror — those who aren’t afraid of to show their BZA...... William Beutler sensitive sides to common street whores, and finally, I hate Key: Cappastona...... Pete R. Hunt people who are different than me by an ability to successful- Chef Raechel...... Raechel Sims ly pull off the pick-up line “I was tested three months ago, Dramatica...... Brian Boone everything seems OK, wanna get drunk and screw?” Ghostface Loggah...... Jeremy Jones INSPEKTAH BRET Inspektah Bret...... Bret Jacobson Ol’ Dirty Wampler...... Sam Wampler KEEP THE HATE ALIVE

MAY 30, 2001 39 HATE CONTINUED FROM PAGE 35 ter, cynical renegade from 1942, but they are obviously not qualified to 3. All showers have two, and only two, settings: arctic glacier water clean the bathrooms with their face. It’s not that my roommate and I and 30 degrees above boiling. don’t get along, but after filling out a form including everything from music preference to underwear size, I thought I would be matched with 4. If all urinals are broken or in use, the water fountain can be an someone with whom I share at least one interest. Yet somehow, I was effective substitute. But by that time you will be so drunk you paired with a person who is so perfectly my opposite, it had to be either won’t know exactly what you’re pissing on. an act of supreme stupidity or simply a cruel joke. I know that some people have ended up rooming with someone who became a good 5. He with the loudest stereo pretty much decides the sleeping friend. That’s great, but even a member of OSPIRG has intelligent schedule for the rest of the hall. thoughts once or twice a year. The fact is, despite the professional staff, it seems the most common complaint when talking to another dorm- 6. A residence hall is not a place to study. The ability to study in a dweller is that the person they are forced to live with has the personal- dorm room is not a naturally occurring phenomenon. ity of a garden hose. The reason many people leave the dorms after the first term is simply because they are afraid that if they have to live with 7. Everyone in a residence hall is fully equipped with video and that person any longer, a mortal crime may take place. photography equipment to capture everyone else’s drunken exploits. Rest assured the minute you strip naked and hang off the Study lounges, big screen TV lounges, game areas and laundry rafters while screaming, “I am Tico Taco, king of the striped mon- facilities are common features in all residence halls. key men!” some deviant will be there with a video camera.

This is where we talk about the cultural hub of the Hamilton com- 8. Losing consciousness is one of the great traditions of the residence plex, known as the basement. With all the well-maintained equipment, hall. Although alcohol is the most popular method, don’t be took quick it’s a wonder that few take advantage of the wonderful recreational to dismiss the many other means. Some include being hit square in the facilities. It could be because the game area consists of a single pool face by various pieces of sports equipment flying through the air, being table balancing on an unstable stack overcome by fumes in the trash room of newspapers. There is a small or trying to read the assigned pages weight room consisting of about in your economics textbook. eight machines, of which four actually function. Practically screaming the 9. The caste system is as follows: phrase “horrendous afterthought,” Those with access to a motor vehi- the basement, like the activities that cle are ultimately the most impor- take place there, is an ignored and tant. Unless a person wants to waste hopeless half-assed attempt at great- their weekends in the dorms, these ness, used only by the few people people must be honored. Those that who find it comforting to study in an provide booze to the rest of the hall environment where they are not only are only less important that he with completely deprived of sunlight, but Myth: Residence hall activities Reality: You will not remember a vehicle, because a dorm runs on also slowly overcome by carbon provide a fun, wholesome univer- your residence hall activities. two substances: beer and coffee. monoxide, radon gas and the horrible sity experience. Third comes the person who con- stench coming from the trash rooms. sumes the most alcohol for he pro- vides much of the entertainment. Other dorm dwellers must worship And, by way of a conclusion, here is a list of ten random things these people in order to receive the important services they provide. they never bother to mention in the brochures: 10. Finally, the residence halls have been crafted in such a way that 1. Drunks will break everything that can possibly be broken with- any other pit you may call home will still be immensely more com- out the aid of heavy machinery, and you will have to pay for it. fortable and less irritating than the dorms. After living at home for Hint: If a member of your dorm is completely drunk the entire first 18 years, the residence halls will ultimately prove that any place week at school, find a way to lock him in his room with enough with a roof is habitable. The residence halls will get a college stu- booze to keep him entertained for the rest of the year. Remember dent used to the things that seem strange in other places. Later, when to let him out before you leave in June. the dorm dweller sees a half-naked stranger hurling in their toilet, they will walk by, reminding them to flush when they are finished. 2. One of the most popular residence hall activities is when the hall comes together for the monthly “which bastard took the lounge furniture again?” interrogation. Jeremy Jones’ hatred for the UO residence halls rivals the most pas- sionate love stories of all time — if they were hate stories, that is.

40 OREGON COMMENTATOR HATE CONTINUED FROM PAGE 25 around. For one, red tape has a way of draining public resources, maybe both groups get on the Oregon Daily Emerald’s case a little and besides, we need all that money for OSPIRG. It’s the classic too much, but at least they haven’t declared outright war on the tyranny of the minority described by James Madison in the United States. But what are we to make of Black Women of Federalist Papers. Once a self-interested minority gets into power Achievement, which rakes in $5,838 per annum? One of the things — and hence, into everyone’s wallet — what is to stop them from that the PFC must look out for when funding a particular group is voting themselves rich? whether or not it duplicates the services of other groups — and if Only later, while talking to a friend and former Honors College someone can tell me who is represented by the BWA but not the student, did I hear a telling story about the denizens of Chapman BSU or Women’s Center, I’d be more than willing to hear them out. Hall: once a teacher had asked the class to divide amongst itself for Perhaps the BSU and Women’s Center cater exclusively to under- the day’s discussion. The topic was — as if further debate was real- achievers. That must be it. ly necessary — capitalism versus communism. In any case, she was And, lest I forget, the Black Student Union even has its own one of a whopping three students to defend the “capitalism” side — graduation ceremony — so, forty-seven years after Brown v. Board and one of them because he wanted to play devil’s advocate. I have of Education, integration has led to… separatism? no idea who Robert D. Clark was, but he must have made Dave Indeed it has. The Multicultural Center, which is the umbrella Frohnmayer — a Jim Jeffords Republican if there ever was one — organization for all of the ethnic groups mentioned above, won the look like Pat Buchanan. approval of a ballot measure allowing for it to set up its own body Truly, in the ivory tower of the United States, circa 2001, for disbursement of funds to ASUO programs. Now, you may be rational thought is dead and buried. asking, isn’t that what the Student Senate is for? Well, yes. Of course, it may not quite be separatism, at least not for this coming year. That’s because next year’s Student Senate will be dominated by people from the Multicultural Center. So the MCC J ust what does the ASUO think it is going to accomplish? will control not just the Clark Document-approved ASUO alloca- Perhaps the single most important goal the ASUO strives for without ever getting any closer, is the promotion of one of the ugliest standbys of leftist ideology: identity politics. Conservatives are given to quoting Martin Luther King, Jr. fre- MEChA’s motto is “For La Raza quently because, though he could scarcely be called “conservative” — look up his views on socialism and see what I mean — the cur- todo. Fuera de La Raza nada.” rent liberal policy on race has little, if anything, to do with his famous directive of August 28, 1963. I’ve picked up enough Español For instance: As of the 1999-00 school year (the most recent year for which figures were available), nearly one quarter of the student groups funded by the ASUO Programs Finance Committee from Sesame Street to know were related to ethnic minorities or students of foreign nationali- ties, totaling $156,278. Does anyone else see how this pattern of that it isn’t a friendly one. funding is at odds with King’s dream that people “not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character”? Then there is MEChA, ostensibly representing Latino students, tive body, but also its shadow. I’m sure James Madison wouldn’t whose nickname stands for a mouthful: Movimiento Estudiantil be too thrilled by this notion. Chicano de Aztlán. The underlying philosophy of the organization — and I quote from their Gladstone site — is that they are mindful not just of their “historical heritage but also of the brutal “gringo” invasion of our territories … the northern land of Aztlán from I hate the ASUO because it is a shrill, selfish, self-righteous whence came our forefathers, reclaiming the land of their birth and crowd of resume-padding 3PM students and groupthinking sociol- consecrating the determination of our people of the sun, declare that ogy majors. I hate the ASUO because its continued existence is the call of our blood is our power, our responsibility, and our explainable only by the student body’s own laziness. And just as I inevitable destiny.” If that passage is a little too elliptical for you, once hated the arbitrary national legal drinking age, I will hate the consider their motto: “For La Raza todo. Fuera de La Raza nada.” ASUO until it no longer applies to me — that is, when I graduate. Now, I’ve picked up enough Español from Sesame Street to know Or, perhaps, until I am elected UOSA President. that it isn’t a friendly one — basically, “For our race, everything. For other races, nothing.” This differs from Naziism how? Then you have the Black Student Union and the Women’s Center. Both organizations of a more peaceful disposition, I’m William Beutler, a senior heretofore majoring in being the Editor- sure. Perhaps I disagree with some of their political beliefs, and in-Chief of the OREGON COMMENTATOR, will retire after this issue.

MAY 30, 2001 41 jump

CONTINUED FROM PAGE 17 pathetic crooning, and the young lads feel no responsibility “SPECIAL PERSON”: Sarah. when the elderly lady they’re sitting by cringes at their con- “SPECIAL PERSON” PRETENDING TO BE SARAH: Yes… stant use of the f-word. SP: Sarah, will you be my girlfriend? And what’s up with the girl who gets on the bus by the post “SP”PTBS: No. SP: WHAT?! SARAH, I’LL HIT YOU!! office on Willamette? She knows who she is. Every day I put “SP”PTBS: No, no, don’t hit me. out the vibe, and every day you ignore me and sit alone in the SP: COME HERE…TAKE THAT…WHACK, WHACK, WHACK. back. Too good for me? Hey, you’re riding the bus too, so “SP”PTBS: No, you’re hurting me, stop! don’t get all high and mighty. SP: WHACK, WHACK, WHACK… Have you ever seen those slow kids in the EMU who clean the tables? You know, the ones with the half-shaven facial hair, As he spoke, his words took on more and more conviction, the big “I went to Disneyland” T-shirt, and the contorted facial his eyes lit up with anger, and he grew increasingly giddier as expression of ignorant bliss? Do you ever wonder where they he realized all of the bus was staring at his impromptu stage come from? My bus route, that’s where. Most of the time production. His arms began to wail around in exaggerated they’re cool. They get on the bus at the “special school,” nod spousal abuse. Passengers hesitated, wondering whether they their heads absently with that glazed-over look in their eyes should grab him and bring his emotional eruption to an end. and happily ride the bus route for two hours before they realize The Ritalin had long worn off, and this shell of an 18-year-old where they’re supposed to disembark. Well, one day one of the half-man wearing adult diapers was all that remained. big dumb lugs just broke down. He was sitting in the back of What the hell brought on that outburst? Your guess is as the bus talking into a walkman as if it were a walkie-talkie, good as mine. Some secrets are best left buried, lost in legend, engaged in a deep conversation with someone named Sarah. another casualty of public transportation. Nobody seemed to be concerned that Sarah was only him with a high-pitched voice. The following is in no way exaggerated. To the best of my memory, this is how the conversation went: Pete R. Hunt, a junior majoring in Journalism, is Managing Editor of the OREGON COMMENTATOR... for the time being.

Starting this next issue...

You’ve been warned.

FREE MINDS,FREE MARKETS,FREE BOOZE.SINCE 1983.

42 OREGON COMMENTATOR another perspective Bring in the Love

By Brandon Hartley

ver the past year, this column has been criti- cized, lambasted and sautéed by would-be critics for its shitty attitude. It should go without saying that I have a shitty attitude. The AnotherO Perspective column naturally reflects the acidic bile that’s forced down my throat on an almost hourly basis by the university, its irritable professors, neighbors with an aversion to shrapnel, bill collectors, ultra-smug classmates and nimrods that walk, three abreast, down 13th Ave. The universe shoves these poopy pet-peeves down my mouth and I spit it back out into a shoddy Toshiba laptop. ¶ What can I say? The bi-weekly task of hacking up a magazine column is almost as refreshing and cathartic as an ice- cold Mountain Dew. Ahhhh, the cool, crisp taste of Mountain Dew! Do the Dew!™ ¶ Besides coming

MAY 30, 2001 43 5. TIKI TORCHES, up with cranky tiki lounges and especially editorials that no one tiki torches in tiki lounges. reads in a magazine that Eugene boasts of but one tiki bar and it’s few know exist, there are Gilligan’s, which sucks a big fat [insert animal or annoying celebrity here] wang. Tiki lounges are things in this world that I’m actu- supposed to be poorly lit and devoid of: Greek brats, ally indifferent to and (gasp!) even KDUK-approved DJs and dance floors. All those belong at kinda, sorta like. ¶ In a reluctant Doc’s Pad. A good tiki bar consists of the following, essential ingredients, which Gilligan’s lacks altogether: attempt to offer “another perspective,” instead of one more bitter rant, I have a. Tikis. suppressed my ever-cynical mindset and b. Lounge music. c. Huge aquariums. come up with the following list. It took a long d. Properly mixed Mai Tais, under $6.00, with actual alcohol that weekend of Zen meditation to compile this, don’t taste like Rockin’ Raspberry Kool Aid. but here it is: A Collection of Things that e. Karaoke. Brandon Hartley Actually Approves of: Oh tiki gods, won’t you descend from the heavens and oblit- erate Gilligan’s? And replace its vacant spot with a three-dimen- 1. BIG, FAT CHECKS FOR PROMOTING MOUNTAIN DEW. ARE YOU sional copy of Portland’s much-loved Alibi? Please? out there Pepsico? One column filled with cola propaganda would run you a mere $22,000 (the amount that it’s going to take to pay of all my 6. WEED WHACKERS ARE SOOOOO MUCH FUN. THERE’S NOTHING pesky student loans). I accept checks and money orders, but would like coming home from a long day of staring out the windows in prefer cash. Send it all: money, trips to Amsterdam, Honda Insights countless upper division classes to tear apart a backyard jungle. and talking parrots to: The experience is only heightened with sound effects from Brandon “Corporate Shill” Hartley Predator blasting out of a nearby boom box. If weed whackers c/o the OREGON COMMENTATOR were invented before the 1950s, World Wars I &II would have P.O. Box 30128 probably never happened. The Germans, instead of starting shit Eugene OR, 97403 with everyone around them, could have gone outside with weed Do the Dew! The joy of Pepsi, the joy of fun, the joy of Pepsi whackers and taken out their pent-up, economically-strifed on your tongue... that’s all you conglomerate sharks get until all aggression on overgrown black berry bushes. Stupid Krauts. my free stuff arrives in the mail. If you can give Britney millions, you can easily cut me a check for a few grand. 7. CORONA TASTES LIKE SOUTH OF THE BORDER DONKEY URINE, but there’s a reason why a six-pack can easily sell for $7.00. When mixed with a slice of lime, Corona goes from being yet 2. BOOBS. THEY’RE NICE. I LIKE BOOBS. I GUESS that just about covers this one. another watered down bottle of suds to the Nectar of the Gods™. A perfect world would have Corona and lime stands on every corner during the summer months. Apart, they are nothing; 3. BUTTS. WHILE NICE, THEY’RE NOT AS nice as boobs. together the two become perfection.

8. FOR REASONS I CAN’T QUITE EXPLAIN, THE 1985 FILM 4. ALYSSA MILANO (SEE NUM- bers 2. and 3.). The Goonies is as entertaining now as it was when I was six years old. I’m not exaggerating when I say that I’ve seen that movie well over two hundred times. While it may just be a kiddie flick with preteens and pirates, its incredibly vivid characterization, hilarious one-liners, finely honed plot structure and dead-on actors make it one of the best movies ever made. If I ever find myself standing on a ledge, ready to throw myself off, I’m sure I would probably reconsider if the scene with Mouth and the Spanish Maid were projected on the building across the street.

The views expressed in this column are those of Brandon Hartley, and do not necessarily represent the opinions of the OREGON COMMENTATOR.

44 OREGON COMMENTATOR ap Simple Pollution” childhood nostalgia or the lyrics of “Satan can’t explain the public’s Gave Me a Taco.” Beck, sim- continued infatuation with ‘80s ply put, is Frank Zappa with a keen movies like these. Back to the Future, pop sensibility. Somehow he’s capable The Goonies and Gremlins are among the few of fusing nearly every genre out there with movies out there that I can watch over and over again his own brand of weirdness to produce pure and never get bored with. I can’t say this for The Big sonic splendor. He makes the sort of music every- Lebowski, The Godfather or, yes, even Charlie’s Angels. During one’s beloved Radiohead might produce if Thom a brief period in the 1980s, Hollywood nailed the art of making Yorke were capable of cracking a smile. The fact that great movies with creative plot lines and likable characters, with- Midnite Vultures didn’t sell over two million copies keeps out having to drown everything in sarcasm, irony and self-con- me awake at night. scious posturing. Steven Soderbergh’s colored filters and the At a concert in Portland last year, Beck put on the most sight of Chow Yun Fat flying around can’t hold a candle to the entertaining concert I’ll ever witness in this lifetime. With an exhilaration that comes with watching the DeLorean get blasted elaborate stage and his band decked out in hockey uniforms and through an era by a bolt of lighting for the 50,000th time, or the attached to IV units for no reason other than that they looked real- sight of the Goonies zooming off down Oregon Highway 101 on ly fucking cool, the man dashed around the stage as if he were try- their Huffies. ing to outperform Mick Jagger in his glory days. Beck did the splits, seduced a velvet pillow (you would have had to be there) and 9. (A) DID I MENTION BOOBS? OH YEAH. EGAD, THIS IS HARD! bopped around like a hyperactive iguana for two-plus hours. At the Crumbs! close of the show, Beck and his band tore apart the stage and tangled (b) There really should be more old Buicks on the road — vehi- themselves up in the neon pipes that lined it. It’s all most bands can cles the size of SUVs, but with infinitely more class. If I were do these days to even bend their knees during a concert. Beck is the rich, I’d open an automotive company that specializes in making only artist I know of that’s capable of actually putting on a concert fuel-efficient, Red Shark-sized convertibles. And I’d take all the worth the price of a $20+ ticket. I think I was the last person to leave profits and open up drive-in movie theaters all over the country. the Rose Garden that night. What ever happened to drive-ins? Do multiplexes really beat sit- If you have not heard the words “giant dildo crushing the sun” on ting out in the open air where you can enjoy a double feature a car ride in July, I pity you. Do yourself a big favor, go out and buy from the comfort of your own hood or lawn chair? Anyway, if Mellow Gold, Odelay and Stereopathetic Soulmanure... hell, get MC Hammer didn’t already have it, I’d sell my soul for a ‘65 Beck’s entire catalogue, stat. Rush home, blast it all until your ears Mustang that gets 40-miles per gallon in the city. bleed and snot runs out of your eye sockets. Or, at the very least, be sure to catch Beck’s cameo on Futurama in reruns this summer. 10. MC HAMMER SAVED MY SOUL, AND THEREFORE, I LIKE THE That’s it. I guess I only like ten things. That’s all I could guy. On a night a few years back, I wandered into the Lighthouse come up with. This world’s filled with all sorts of wonder- Temple to watch a sermon by “The Hammer” himself. ful, shiny stuff and a measly ten is all I could think of. Afterwards, he asked “unsaved” members of the audience to step And, despite my efforts, this column is still filled with up to the altar and accept Jesus Christ into their hearts. Maybe it snide remarks and pessimistic ramblings. Shucks, I was the peer pressure or the green-colored Joker gas the paris- guess you can take a boy out of the bitterness but honers had subtly pumped in through the ventilation system, but you can’t take the bitterness out of the boy. Can I obliged. Surrounded by one thousand rabid Mormons (or at I get an A for effort? least they looked, acted and smelled like Mormons), MC Hammer placed a hand on my shoulder, mumbled something I couldn’t hear, and wham-o! I was a Christian. I don’t know if this blessing has already worn off. Maybe I should call Hammer Brandon Hartley is a featured every few months for a spiritual tune-up. It sure beats going to columnist for the OREGON COMMENTATOR hell and hanging out with Tom Hanks and Princess Diana.

11. BECK, IN MY EYES, IS THE MOST TALENTED MUSICIAN ALIVE. The guy could stand in a recording booth without making a sound, and I’d still lay down good money for the subsequent recording. There’s no one else out there that can match the looping waves of sound that start “The New

IN THE NEXT ISSUE: Brandon Hartley’s love is scheduled to run out when he lists 200 things that absolutely drive him up the wall.

MAY 30, 2001 45 spew

ON THE MORNING AFTER

Often I go out with friends and drink, dance and meet new people. Sometimes I even wake up in strange (very strange) places and And often, the next day, I can’t remember what happened to me can’t recall how I got there. I feel confusion and pain, and I retch the night before. until I feel I’ll die. —Charles G. Haller II, in a letter to the ODE. Come on, Chuck: —Charles G. Haller II, in a letter to the ODE. Conscience is a we all know that’s just a legal maneuver. bitch, Chuck.

NOVEMBER 10, 1997 ON JOB FAIR 2001

It used to be you could get a ninth-grade diploma, get a job at a mill, and make enough to support a family... even buy a house. But that doesn’t work anymore. Now it’s smoke meth, sell meth... what are you gonna do? —Overheard at Pegasus Pizza. Not many economists can rival modern college students’understanding of supply, demand and the necessity of a good backup plan to a failed education.

ON SYNERGY You don’t want the Marines to sit around and debate the relative I’m Bruce Milem, I’m a 34-year-old philosophy teacher at the merits of war. That’s what college English professors do. Our UO... My hobbies include knitting... Yes, what a fine specimen of safety, thank God, does not depend on English professors. humanity I am. —Professor James Boren, on his colleagues. —Professor Bruce Milem, illustrating the point.

NOVEMBER 23, 1998 ON POSITIVE FREEDOM

Another thing from the Conan show is the freedom that we had... one producer would watch in Burbank, if he happened to be in his office while we were rehearsing. He might call and say, “Don’t let the priest fuck rabbits.” But that was about it. —Andy Richter, interviewed in The Onion

ON “SOMETHING” It still means something. Not “SOMETHING,” but something. The parts that could mean “SOMETHING” probably don’t. —Mason West, in the May 17 Ol’ Dirty. Your word choice isn’t “CRAPPY,” but crappy. Wait, no it is “CRAPPY.”

46 OREGON COMMENTATOR and that’s the end of it

ON WE WISH... OCTOBER 27, 1999

Is Ishmael Garfunkel really just some kind of COMMENTATOR joke? —Emerald designer Russ Weller to an OC staffer. If only he were a joke; we could start leaving the office door open again.

ON HOBBES

25 rumble in campus area fight. —May 21 Ol’ Dirty headline. Apparently the ruckus started when Maria, sister of one of the Sharks, engaged in a romantic encounter at the school dance with Tony, a member of the hated Jets. Dancing and fighting ensued.

ON REPUBLICANIACS

We got a proposal to use the overrealized funds on a “Freak For every fatal shooting, there are roughly three non-fatal shoot- Life” office. I thought we already had one of those — the ings. Folks, this is unacceptable in America. Survival Center. —George W. Bush, on gun control. Mr. President, this is —ASUO PR Director Jamie Gerlitz, the only Republican in the Thurston country — you’re preaching to the choir. entire office. Good thing the surplus student fee money went to installing useless solar panels on the EMU roof instead. ON UTILITY Oh, I’m sorry, I was just making random noises. —Prof. Milem, further demonstrating not just his worth to the class, but the entire human race.

ON BLONDE, BLONDE SUMMER I have trouble remembering the names of blonde girls... Amber? 1999 —English professor Linda Kintz. We can’t get their names straight either, since we never see their faces — just their pretty yellow locks as they puke into the Delta Upsilon toilet.

ON THE USUAL We usually clean up a lot of urine, but this mostly looks like four- week-old beer. —Carpet cleaner to the roommate of an OC editor. Actually, that’s three-week old malt liquor, but not bad for a first guess.

MAY 30, 2001 47