The Harvard Lampoon | Smoke and Mirrors # by The Harvard Lampoon

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Smoke & Mirrors #

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Table of Contents

Cover Front Cover Danpatrick.com Inside Front Cover Sports talk for the rest of us Small Plates 1 restaurant, tapas, wine bar California Pizza Kitchen 2 May we suggest a pizza major with a pasta minor? Boston Bruins 4 Bruins 101: get in the game B: The hub of hockey Starcandle 6 Sky Dive Cape Cod 6 Rendang Asian restaurant, café, wine-bar 6 Massimino’s (Cucina Italiana) 6 Fine italian dining in Boston’s North End LJ Peretti 7 Kickass Cupcakes 11 Upper Crust Pizzeria 12 Award-winning gourmet thin crust pizza House of Jerky 13 Fresh. Exotic. JERKY. The Modlin Group 13 Licensed real estate broker Modlin knows Manhattan Warburg Realty Partnership 14 A high standard since 1896 G’Vanni’s 23 A veally good deal O Water 24 Energy without the bull (infused owater with caffeine) We make water better Gino 29 Junior stylist haircutting available Mon-Thurs (50% discount) Mint Julep 29 Bring this ad into Mint Julep and receive 20% off one item! Mr. Music 30 Largest selection of used guitars and new parts Cambridge Cleaners 30 Dry cleaning, tuxedo/dress shirt, leather and sued, zipper and shoe repair, expert tailoring, wash dry and fold per pound/month/semester, comforter blanket Bake Me a Wish! 45 Gourmet gift cakes for any occasion! Milk Street Café 46 22 years of excellence Dial-A-Pizza 46 Specialty pizzas, pickup or delivery, Crimson Cash Irving House (at Harvard) 46 Friendly accommodations in the heart of Cambridge The trouble with the world is that the stupid are always cocksure and the intelligent are always filled with doubt Bertrand Russell Hubba-Hubba 51 Leather, latex, bondage, corsets, toys, boots, videos, and wigs Patriot Ballooning 51 Experience the magic of a balloon ride Hemlock Ink 52 Boston’s Best T-Shirt Printers Quality, speed, value, free delivery to Harvard Wings Over Somerville 54 (617) 666 – WING Porter Square Books 55 We’re open seven days a week! Raven Used Books 55 Specializing in scholarly used books Redbones 55 Barbecue, lunch and dinner, 24 on tap, beer, bar, restaurant Three Rivers and Skydive New England Inside Back Cover Your source for serious fun and adventure! Bed Bath & BEYOND Back Cover Shopping at Bed Bath & Beyond can make you feel like a kid in a candy store.

Smoke & Mirrors #

LJ Peretti

Vanitas On behalf of the Harvard Lampoon and its subsidiary, Fifteen Minutes magazine, welcome to the Lampoon Castle unofficial tour. Please don’t touch the walls. Our first stop is the writing room. Hello, writers! Look at them, writing away. All Lampoon writers write more than 1000 words per day, our writers’ writing quota minimum. It looks like yet another issue is in the works. Great job team! Now if you will kindly follow me - watch your heads - into the printing room. This is where the magazine is designed, inked, stamped, film-screened, chemically treated, and flattened into magazine form. These machines are very dangerous! Let’s continue into the phone room, a staff favorite. This is where we keep our phones. There are all kinds: old phones, new phones, cell phones, funny phones, pfhunny phones, and even stone phones (phones made of stone). It sounds like one of the phones is ringing. Which one? There are so many. If you’ll follow me this way, we are now entering the drawing room. This is where Lampoon drawers do their drawings. Do you like to draw? Here’s a drawing of a cat. Here’s another drawing. Onward! Now this room is very special. Where do Lampooners get their ideas for comedy? Right here: the research room. Each one of these computers connects directly to the web! If you step this way you’ll enter the Wheelwright tribute room. This is a room entirely devoted to honoring our founder, Wheelwright. Those giant murals you see were made out of different types of macaroni. Mamma mia! Please mind any loose clothing or jewelry as we ride the escalator to the next room, the secret room. And here it is…the secret room. Whoopdy-fucking-doo. Which brings us to the end of our tour: the coat room. Coats and umbrellas, shoes, galoshes, everything! Before you go, don’t forget to check out the Smoke and Mirrors #, an issue about lies. WBB

Smoke & Mirrors #

March 2008

Vol. CXCVII, No. 5

board of editors Robert I. Padnick ‘09, President Christopher R. Schleicher ‘09, President Matthew K. Grzecki ‘10, Ibis Emmet F. McDermott ‘09, Narthex S. M. Christmas ‘07-‘08 J. G. Hurwitz ‘07-‘08 M. E. Boyle ‘08 A. Mitra ‘08 J. A. Powers ‘08 H. H. Davenport ‘08-‘09 J. S. Gruszecki ‘09 G.M. Schabb ‘09 R. R. Rojer ‘09-‘10 J. T. Lu ‘10 J. L. Fleischer ‘10 A. S. Goldfeder ‘10

Nathaniel H. Stein ‘10, Librarinave William B. Bailey ‘08, Sackbut Natalie C. Jacoby ‘10, Hautbois Kate Sweeney ‘10, Hautbois John B. Owen ‘10, Sanctum Kevin P. Bartley ‘10-‘11, Sanctum Daniel N. Ashwood ‘10, Blot

business board Michael B. Hess ‘09, Treasurer Samuel W. Teller ‘08-‘09, Business Manager Alexander A. Taubman ‘09, Advertising Manager Alexander M. Rohr ‘11, Circulation Manager Ross E. Arbes ‘08, Vanitas J. A. Kobza ‘08 M. C. Bartels ‘09 P. M. de A. V. F. de Moura ‘09-‘11 E. R. Sherrill ‘08 M. C. Allison ‘09 Elmer W. Green, 1897-1977, Grand Curator Joseph F. Hickey, Curator ISSUE EDITOR William B. Bailey ‘08 ART EDITOR James A. Powers ‘08 The Harvard Lampoon is published five times during the academic year by The Harvard Lampoon Inc. Principal office 44 Bow Street, Cambridge, MA 02138. Third-class postage paid at Cambridge, MA. U.S. subscription: $20 for five issues, $35 for ten, $50 for fifteen. Overseas subscriptions: call for rates. Postmaster: send address changes to Harvard Lampoon, 44 Bow Street, Cambridge, MA 02138. © 2008 Harvard Lampoon Inc. All rights reserved. Reproduction in any form without written permission is prohibited. Phone: (617) 495-7801. Fax: (617) 495-1668. URL: http://www.harvardlampoon.com. The Harvard Lampoon does not print unsolicited manuscripts. Instead, it admires them through bullet-proof glass displays in government museums. The Lampoon is a registered trademark of The Harvard Lampoon, Inc.

The Harvard Lampoon

Act I We begin our story in the small town of Bird Bones, located at the south end of Montana Mile Isle and smack dab in the middle of the lobster rich waters of Sacknutz Bay. For more than a century, lobstermen have fished the ledges and shoals found near the many islands that populate the area, and although many of these islands used to be teeming with large communities thanks to the thriving lobster industry, only few host year-round residents today. With skyrocketing real estate prices, harsh winters, and a limping economy, more and more islanders have found their way to the mainland over the years. Our hero, Ibis, shares this very legacy with the hundreds of families that once fished the teeming waters near Bird Bones but sought hard ground in search of steady paychecks. Ibis’s grandfather, Ibis Ibis, was a successful Cod fisherman until the stock became depleted in the 1930’s. After trying his luck with hauling lobsters, only to be ruined by the hellish economy of the Great Depression, Ibis Ibis was forced to sell his home and head for the mainland. He died of a heart attack shortly thereafter. Having never known Ibis Ibis, Ibis remained disconnected from the chosen profession of his ancestors, and pursued law enforcement after the sudden death of his father, Ibones. He married, had children, divorced, and now keeps a humble apartment in the harbor town of Bird Bones. Although he had some involvement with the coast guard’s heroine sting in the early 80’s, Ibis doesn’t see much action, and spends most of his time in the local dive, smoking and watching quiz shows and fast forwarding through the commercials. As it so happens, this is precisely where we find him one breezy summer evening. Several large, white lobster boats chug through the channel that connects Sacknutz Bay to the tacit moorings of Bird Bones Harbor. Leading the bunch are the two biggest and flashiest crafts in the fleet: The Other Sister and The Mother Man, proudly owned and maintained by Jester and Blot. The spoiled sons of a Bird Bones politician, Jester and Blot exchanged their law degrees for trawling gaffs two years after the haul boom of 1994. They’ve never looked back. And as the sun begins its descent towards the looming relief of Bartlebones Island in the west, Jester and Blot laugh and cuss over their VHF marine radios, bragging about the day’s haul. Camped in a dark corner of “The Pot o’ Bones,” Bird Bones’s only commercial vendor with a (legal) liquor license, is Ibis. He ashes his 7th cigarette just as a gaggle of rowdy lobstermen burst through the screen door. Although he attempts ducking Jester and Blot behind a plastic menu, they greet their old college buddy with a couple “fuck you’s” and a hard slap on the back. Ibis grumpily tries shooing them from obstructing his view of the t.v. Jester and Blot carry on, cursing the recent haul reports warning against low yields. Although a bacterial pandemic has nearly wiped out the lobster stocks in South Sonos County and parts of Somerville, Bird Bones’s waters remain unfettered. Escaping the bar noise and annoyingly spirited fishermen, Ibis walks up the hill to his two-room apartment overlooking the harbor. Greeted by his dog, Fibis, Ibis shuffles through his apartment’s darkened hallway. Pictures line the walls: Ibis Ibis with the old cod fishing fleet, Ibones in a police uniform, young Ibis digging for mussels with his mother, Ibis’s family, Ibis receiving a diploma. He presses a flashing button on his answering machine. One message is from his mother, one is from his ex-wife. He switches on the t.v. and collapses into a recliner. He falls asleep. The next morning, Ibis stubbornly heeds the shrill call of his telephone. It’s been ringing off the hook. His boss, JFH, hurriedly explains that he’s got to come to the office right away. Once there, JFH briefs him on the disappearance of a young couple last seen on a ferry headed to Poop Dick Island. To complicate matters, the couple (two women) had recently “eloped” against the wishes of the woman’s father, the Governor of Somerville. The chief explains that they’ve got to keep the case quiet because it’s a re-election year, and the Governor can’t afford the truth about his daughter’s sexuality hitting the press. After much hesitation (Ibis hates the islands…and boats), Ibis gives in and takes the assignment. He packs his belongings, does some background checks on his subjects, and heads down to the ferry dock. JFH explains that he’s arranged for Ibis to be met on the island by Park Ranger Stars n’ Stripes. But the ferry ride proves to be more difficult than he anticipated. Rough seas and a sick dog make for a terrible start to his assignment. Ibis learns a bit about the island from the eccentric ferry captain, most notably that the islanders know all about the couples’ disappearance. Word travels fast. As the ferry captain maneuvers the large boat between hundreds of neon-colored lobster buoys, Ibis finally sees the large island jutting out of the sea like a fortress of rock and pine. But even in its beautifully raw appearance, there seems to be something “unbalanced,” perhaps even backward, about the sleepy cottages and snake-like boardwalks that cover the hillside above the harbor dock. After scanning his new world, Ibis steps onto the landing and is greeted by a short, bird-like man in uniform who introduces himself as Ranger Stars n’ Stripes. He explains that he was contacted by the Governor’s office and notified of the investigation, which was to remain confidential. He then sheepishly admits that the entire island somehow got wind of the situation, and that a town meeting is being held tonight. He suggests that Ibis attend the gathering. Ibis exchanges a few looks with some of the locals milling about the pier. He does not feel welcome. The two climb into Stars n’ Stripes’ truck and head towards the town library. Having sensed Ibis’s wariness on the pier, Stars n’ Stripes describes the delicate social dynamic between the island’s “year-rounders” and the summer residents. Many of the hardened islanders resent their wealthier summer neighbors, and generally hold grudges against the noisy tourists who tramp through the island’s national park. And although the tourists season has begun to wind down, Stars n’ Stripes explains that the islanders will probably resent Ibis’s presence, and write him off as an unnecessary distraction during the crucial fall “shedder” season of the lobster haul. Act II: Part I At the library, the detective arrives just as two islanders begin shouting angrily. An argument has broken out between Big Boog and a fellow townsman. Big Boog argues that the island ought to keep the investigation quiet to avoid attracting negative attention from the SIA (Somerville Islander’s Association – a unionized lobbyist group that distributes government subsidies to their island communities). But the angry townsman insists that the island’s tourism will suffer if the investigation remains unresolved, especially considering the amount of drownings and boating accidents they’ve had. Ibis observes the debate until Big Boog Junior, son of Big Boog, recognizes Ibis’s badge and promptly introduces him. Ibis’s reception is less than enthusiastic. After a half-hearted speech reviewing the circumstances of the investigation, Ibis fields a few angry questions before making a call to JFH on the library’s pay-phone. He asks him to look into the previous drownings, and summarizes his curt welcoming party. As he hangs up the phone, Big Boog Junior steps out of the shadows. Was he listening to Ibis’s conversation? While more congenial than Big Boog, Big Boog Junior possesses a bit of hostility towards Ibis, and warns him not to “disturb the quiet islanders’ little slice of heaven.” The unsettling exchange is then interrupted by Jakobones, caretaker of Lighthouse Point. She is attractively pleasant – a veritable “diamond in the rough” of crabby islanders. Jakobones explains that Ranger Stars n’ Stripes called her earlier about Ibis’s investigation, and that she has a room waiting for him at the inn. Ibis shakes Big Boog Junior’s icy hand and heads with Jakobones up to the Point. The roads are now dark and empty, and occasionally a deer darts across. Jakobones tells Ibis more about the island, and a little about herself. Ibis asks her about the drownings, but she abruptly dismisses the question. With a somewhat awkward exchange, the two say their goodnights and Ibis settles down for bed. After falling asleep, he is suddenly awakened by a disturbance outside his window. Fearing an intruder, Ibis draws his gun and makes his way outside. He is terrified. He creeps around the corner and finds an old woman staring him in the face. She is completely unresponsive. She simply turns and walks away. Jakobones later explains that Ibis’s “intruder” was Fleeshobones, an island local known for walking the hillsides and roads late at night. Fleeshobones suffers from a rare cerebral disease that has left her deaf and dumb. His nerves thoroughly jolted, Ibis barely sleeps the rest of the night. The next morning Ibis wakes up the sound of Jakobones banging around the kitchen. She suggests that he attend church, but he needs to start the investigation, and instead heads towards “Whale Blub Tub,” the last place the couple was seen (according to Ranger Stars n’ Stripes). After Jakobones drops him off at the head of the trail, Ibis walks only a few steps until he is confronted by a fully grown seal, flopping out the door of a small cottage. An islander quickly intercepts his “pet,” and directs the detective towards the sheltered inlet. Ibis navigates the wooded trail towards the salt air and ocean sounds, emerging onto an exposed bluff of rock and gravel that slopes gently into a tranquil cove. Curiously, an abandoned pick-up sits at the head of a service road that snakes back into the forest. Meanwhile, Jakobones arrives at church. The service scene is inter-cut with Ibis’s investigation. The priest, P. Diddy Poop Dick, delivers a riveting sermon and the townspeople seem engaged with the hymnals and prayers. Ibis scans the glinting shoreline, searching for signs of a struggle, articles, or anything to make the case. Something in the shallows catches his eye. It’s a small tag, about the size of a quarter, with a series of letters and numbers. As Ibis reaches down to collect the tag, the snap of a twig and crunch of gravel prompts him to turn his head, just in time to see the pick-up barreling down the slope, aimed right at him. He jumps out of harms way and into the water, just in time. Frantically searching the surrounding tree-line for a possible assailant, Ibis scrambles down the trail, soaking wet and bleeding. He

J e s t e r I b i s

bursts onto the main road just as Jakobones arrives. He bluntly inquires if there’s a tow-truck on the island, and asks her to bring him to the nearest phone. On the phone with JFH, Ibis complains about the creepy atmosphere and lack of evidence that he has to deal with. For the hell of it, Ibis suggests he runs the tag number he found. JFH quickly silences the detective with some startling information: he found no record of the island’s drownings in the last several years. The only information he matched was an incident that happened nearly 15 years ago, which involved the drowning of four teenagers when their boat swamped on the way to the mainland. When Ibis hangs up, Jakobones explains that the runaway truck belonged to Shlycos Geocities, a handyman employed by one of the summer residents, Alingon Jay Alingon. Directed by Jakobones, Ibis heads towards Shlycos Geocities’ sshack, a dilapidated old boathouse near Alingon Jay Alingon’s estate. When a search of the premises yields nothing, Ibis tries Alingon Jay Alingon’s instead. He is greeted by the old man and the two discuss the recent incident, which includes island politics and Alingon Jay Alingon’s relationship with the islanders themselves. Alingon Jay Alingon admits he hired Shlycos Geocities knowing he held a criminal record, but claims they’ve never had any problems. Ibis then goes back to the library to call JFH. He asks him to pull up Shlycos Geocities’s rap sheet. JFH reports that the tag number is a state licensing ID for lobster traps. The tag belonged to a lobsterman registered out a nearby mainland harbor. Puzzled, Ibis starts back to Lighthouse Point, when he spots Fleeshobones in the middle of the road. Cars are swerving to avoid her. He grabs her by the arm and asks a passing islander where she lives. He gently pulls her up the boardwalk towards her house. At the top of the boardwalk, Ibis is greeted by an eccentric old sea-captain named Steinbeckbones. This is Fleeshobone’s husband (the second of two). Steinbeckbones thanks Ibis for returning Fleeshobones, and proceeds to ramble on and on about WWII and the history of the island. He invites Ibis inside, where Fleeshobones sits at an easel, painting. Incredulous, Ibis inquires about the captain’s wife artistic ability. Steinbeckbones explains that she’s painted for years, and directs Ibis into a small sun room. The walls are literally plastered with paintings: landscapes, houses, people. To Ibis’s shock, he spots a painting of Whale Blub Tub. Unmistakably, Ibis is in the painting, and next to the pick-up stands a dark figure, presumably the one that tripped the brakes. Ibis’s revelation is interrupted by an earth-shattering boom. Running outside, he finds Steinbeckbones firing a 19th century cannon out into the harbor. Overwhelmed by his bizarre day, Ibis retreats to Lighthouse point, where Jakobones has prepared a dinner for the two of them. Act II: Part II Over dinner, Ibis explains that he thinks someone is after him. He repeats what Big Boog Junior said to him the other night at the library, but Jakobones shrugs it off. Then, as if on cue, Big Boog Junior pulls up with replacement canisters for the inn’s propane housing. Catching Ibis off guard, Big Boog Junior invites Ibis to join him on his lobster boat the following morning. He promises excellent views of the island and a learning experience that will “put things in perspective” for Ibis, who is clearly not accustomed to the “island way.” Ibis hesitantly agrees. The next morning, Ibis drives down to the landing. It’s pitch black, and a thick fog hinders visibility. He hears the deep gurgle of a lobster boat heading towards the pier. It’s Big Boog Junior and his stern-man. They explain that they were off getting bait, and Ibis climbs aboard. Ibis observes as Big Boog Junior skillfully navigates the rocky waters that surround the island, gaffing buoys and hauling traps filled with lobsters. Big Boog Junior points out the swaths of buoys from mainland fishing boats encroaching on the island’s “hauling territory.” He talks about the gear wars that have transpired in the recent past, and the failed legislative efforts to get the fishing grounds near the island protected for the islander’s own commercial use. Suddenly, the boat’s marine radio kicks on, and two familiar voices bellow over the airwaves. It’s Jester and Blot bickering over a particular stretch of water. Big Boog Junior demonstrates his contempt for the barbaric mainlanders and angrily switches off the radio. As they head back towards the harbor, Big Boog Junior tells Ibis to set a trap, claiming that he’ll never truly appreciate the island until he feels the weight of a pot in his own hands. Ibis tosses the trap, prompting Big Boog Junior to gun the throttle, causing the line to whip aft. Ibis quickly ducks, and narrowly avoids being pulled into the ocean. The stern-man jokes with Ibis, emphasizing how quickly a lobsterman can be pulled down to the ocean floor by his own livelihood. Back on dry land, Ibis spots P. Diddy Poop Dick driving through town. He decides to follow him. At his home on Deep Pond, Ibis finds P. Diddy Poop Dick untangling a fishing reel. He introduces himself, but insists that he knows nothing of the disappearance. Ibis then asks about the recent drownings, and P. Diddy Poop Dick draws silent. He explains that his son was one of the victims in the boating accident 15 years ago. He says the last he saw of him was his boat heading out of harbor, past the small island that creates a natural channel in between. Looking across the bay, Ibis notices a small hutch on the island. He asks the P. Diddy Poop Dick if anyone lives there. P. Diddy Poop Dick chuckles and explains that it’s the bait hutch, a communal source of herring that all the fisherman share. Remembering Big Boog Junior’s claim that he was off getting bait that morning, Ibis decides to check it out. Borrowing a small whaler, he crosses the shallow channel as it is now low tide. Once inside the hut, Ibis finds a small sign-up sheet with the names of lobstermen and the respective amount of bait taken. He finds Big Boog Junior’s name on the list. Puzzled, he decides to head north, around the island, to explore the area Moore got his “bait.” Rounding a small peninsula, Ibis spots a tiny inlet with a long dock leading back into the woods. He can barely make out a small shack through the trees. Suddenly, lightning strikes in the distance. Spooked by the weather, Ibis turns back towards the harbor. He doesn’t see a figure in the trees, watching him. Back at Jakobones’s, Ibis pulls out a map of the island and asks her about the cove. She says she doesn’t know of any houses on the property. Ibis then radios Ranger Stars n’ Stripes and asks the same question. He says the land is government owned, and that it’s probably an old rigging dock used by trawlers in the old days. Ibis tells Stars n’ Stripes he’s going to check it out. As he ends the transmission, Jakobones freezes. Just as Ibis turns around, the butt end of a rifle hits him in the face. He blacks out. When Ibis comes to, his hands and legs are tied to a chair. Jakobones lies unconscious next to him. They are in small hut, the same one he saw in the cove. Big Boog Junior stands over him with an evil grin, playing with Ibis’s revolver. Big Boog stands over a cutting table, sharpening a knife. A storm wages outside. Lighting cracks intermittently. Big Boog Junior gives a speech to Ibis about how he is protecting his community, just as his ancestors did. Ibis spits at his feet, calling him a heartless murderer. Angered by his brashness, Big Boog Junior motions for Big Boog to start carving him up. Just as Big Boog is about to cut Ibis’s throat, the door crashes open. A shotgun blast tears through Big Boog. Big Boog Junior backs away in horror. It’s P. Diddy Poop Dick, come to save the day. He points the gun at Big Boog Junior, who drops his rifle. But instead of surrendering, Big Boog Junior sprints out the door into the storm, towards the pier. Untying Ibis, the two run after Big Boog Junior. This is where it gets crazy. Big Boog Junior jumps in a pod-racer idling next to his lobster boat. Luckily, P. Diddy Poop Dick and Ibis spot another pod-racer on the other side of Big Boog’s lobster boat (the lobster boat is on land, being painted (not actually being painted at that exact moment but in the process of being painted (Big Boog Junior got some island workers to do it for a reasonable price and some free prize-winning lobsters (they win prizes at county fairs)))) and they both jump on it. Ibis clings to P. Diddy Poop Dick as they speed through tall pines in pursuit of Big Boog Junior. They weave in and out, just barely missing things. It’s a lot like the scene from The Return of the Jedi. In fact, if this gets made into a movie, it should be the exact scene spliced in, because, hey, it’s a great scene. Eventually Big Boog Junior reaches a clearing after trying to run P. Diddy Poop Dick and Ibis off his trail by throwing banana peels over his shoulder. But what Big Boog Junior doesn’t know is that Jakobones is waiting with a baseball bat. She winds up and whacks Big Boog Junior off his pod-racer and the pod-racer goes careening off a cliff and makes a big explosion and vaporizes. Ibis apprehends Big Boog Junior (who is now certainly seeing stars), and brings him to the mainland where JFH is mopping and sweating a lot. JFH throws Big Boog Junior into jail and Big Boog Junior is so disoriented that he doesn’t realize he’s in jail until about four in the morning. Big Boog Junior is so despondent that he attempts an escape by trying to unscrew the screws on the glass covering that’s on the cell door even though they’re welded on. Big Boog Junior also doesn’t realize that the jail people have all his information: his driver’s license, his credit cards, the stuff that was in his pockets, his shoelaces, and a leather jacket that the jail people will mistakenly give him later but Big Boog Junior won’t realize the mistake. Things get a tiny bit better for Big Boog Junior when a lady in a jail costume comes to give Big Boog Junior an egg sandwich and a small carton of 2% milk, which Big Boog Junior promptly shreds up and then tries using the twisted carton bits to unlock the cell door. Finally, Big Boog Junior is released on bail. After all this, Ibis says goodbye to Jakobones, who has to go back to the island, but they kiss anyway, and Ibis finally reveals that he’s been tape-recording Jakobones’s conversations this whole time. Jakobones asks if she can hear the tape-recording. Ibis says no and just sort of stares at her. The End.

B l o t

Smoke & Mirrors #

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Fucking Your Best Friend’s Girlfriend

Cindy: Ooh yeah! Oh baby! Just like that! Ben: [walking in door] What?! What is this? Cindy, how could you? Me: Well, look who it is. I guess you’ve caught us. Fucking. Ben: I can’t believe this. Cindy, you are a whore! A fucking whore. Me: It’s payback time. Remember when you made out with Amy even though you knew I liked her? Well, now your precious Cindy has been fucked by your best friend. Ben: Cindy, I thought we were— Wait, did you say best friend? Me: Yeah why? Ben: Oh, it’s not a big deal. I just never really considered us best friends. Me: What are you talking about? We’ve been best friends for years. Remember when we went to the Bulls game? Ben: Yeah that was fun. Me: And Jordan hit that impossible shot at the buzzer and we both high-fived? Ben: Yeah man, that was awesome. Look, I’m not saying we’re not friends. We are. We’re really good friends. But best? Me: But you laugh at all my jokes. Ben: I mean, yeah, some of them are funny. Don’t get me wrong, I’m really hurting right now. It’s just…you’re probably my third or fourth best friend. Me: Fourth? Who’s above me? Derek? Ben: No way, Derek’s probably like six or seven. Me: Oh, okay. Am I above Matthias? Ben: I don’t know, I mean, I can’t remember the exact rankings. Me: He’s above me isn’t he? Ben: Look I’m sorry man. If you want to talk about it when you’re done here, I’ll be in the kitchen. Me: Alright.

Mime-O-Caust When the deaf-mute Nazis came for the Jewish troupe of mimes, no one said much of anything. CRS

CRS MKG

The Harvard Lampoon

Goodbye Ladies and gentlemen, we’re gathered here today to celebrate the life of our late friend Jake Sellers. Some of you remember Jake as a loving son, a love heart, or a beacon of love. I remember him as a guy who flew out of a roller coaster. No matter how you remember him, I think I speak for everyone here when I say that Jake died in the coolest way possible. Writing this eulogy wasn’t easy. You can know a guy your entire life and then wake up one morning and forget everything about him. That’s what happened to me, except I never even knew Jake to begin with. Guy who told me to write this, you look like an idiot right now. From my position on the stage I see audience members laughing at you. Jake’s life went something like this: born, Vietnam, maimed, Vietnam, new pet. Not a lot of things happened in his life, but when they did happen, you better believe he took some photographs. In the back of the room, all eleven photographs are on display.

Jake loved helping out with pee-wee football. He yelled a lot at the kids, but only because he wanted the bad players to quit. He made sure those kids were treated like adults, respected like adults, and sacked like adults. Early in the season it became apparent that Jake wasn’t a coach or a parent or even a school administrator. He was just some guy with an incredible amount of sacks. Jake is gone, but the questions will always be with us. Did he die because he wasn’t wearing a seatbelt? Or was it because he was riding upside down? We’ll never know, but I don’t think it matters either way when you’re on fire. KPB

Jake was a dedicated man. He drove to school everyday to pick up the son he never had. On weekends, Jake always rode his favorite roller coasters to work. He never had a steady job.

Smoke & Mirrors #

The Beginning of My Caper Movie Script Samuel sits on a bus. Ricky sits down next to him. Ricky: Mind if I sit here? Samuel: What do I care? I just got fired today from my job at the Metropolitan Diamond Museum. I guess they don’t have room for a frozen yogurt stand anymore because of their new diamond exhibit. Ricky: You think you’ve got problems? My house was destroyed when a truck carrying steel trusses for the Metropolitan Diamond Museum’s expansion project fishtailed off the road. Samuel: Wow, that’s really sympathetic. That’s almost more sympathetic than my predicament. Ricky: We’ll I think we both got a pretty bad shake. I can’t imagine anybody not rooting for people in our position. Bus driver: (into microphone) Twenty-second street stop. Anybody getting off at the twenty-second street stop? I’m skilled with explosives and know a really limber Asian dude. Jesus, what did I just say that for?

SmoKe Signal Comix CRS, SWT ART: KS

Samuel looks a Ricky, a glimmer coming to his eye. JGH

Laser Sensors We’re honored that you’ve chosen LaserNetic Securities to safeguard your gems. You won’t be disappointed. Out of all the laserbased security companies, the man-sized gaps between our sensors are the smallest on the market. If a person were to, say, crawl under them, they would really, really have to scrunch down. But that’s not all. With our groundbreaking “High-Low” placement system, would-be “Joe Thiefs” are not only forced to crawl under some sensors, but carefully step over others. And the red of our beams is so faint that it might as well be invisible. You may have some questions about your new sensors. Why can’t they just be put on the door leading into the room? It would use the same number of sensors, but the spaces between them would be so small that it would be impossible for a robber to enter without setting them off. You would pay us more to do that, you say, even though it would cost the same. Why can’t you just do that? On top of that, sometimes you wonder if it even matters. If these stones are worth it. Worth the guilt. Worth the knowledge that your greed supports a deeply immoral industry. Worth the ghost attacks, the thousand year old curses, and the ghost rapes. But come on. Look at them. They’re pretty. In the past, you would have been a king just for having them. And today, as a sinister rich guy who collects gems, and for some reason keeps them in his home, I’m sincere when I say that laser-based protection is your only option. This is the literal truth. Now, let’s discuss the security system on the door leading into this room. May I suggest an electronic one that someone can connect a laptop to and hack with just a few taps of a keyboard? JBO

The Harvard Lampoon

Point/Counterpoint The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he did not exist. – Kevin Spacey, The Usual Suspects The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was creating an undetectable world of fire somewhere beneath the Earth’s crust. – Richard Downing, Geologist CRS

The Gift of the Magi: One Year Later In O. Henry’s famous Christmas story, Jim sold his watch to buy Della combs for her hair while Della sold her hair to buy Jim a chain for his watch. Let’s peek in on them one year later. Della: My oh my, this comb looks wonderful in my hair. My hair grows so fast, Jim! It’s a wonder I don’t cut it off and sell it every year. Jim: [holding watch chain] I wish my watch could grow back… What time is it? Della: Time for you to braid my hair, silly! My lovely, long hair. Jim: [staring at chain] It was my grandfather’s watch, you know. Della: Sometimes I wonder if my hair will ever stop growing. And then I laugh, because of course it won’t stop. Hair always grows back. Jim: [Attempts to strangle himself with watch chain] Della: Why are you not braiding yet? CRS

Smoke & Mirrors #

Cybering drummerbro24: hey, what’s up? sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: hi, sugar ;) sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: A/S/L? drummerbro24: asl sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: hehe, same time! sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: 18/f/FL drummerbro24: 24 m florida drummerbro24: yaaaahh, florida! sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: So funny!! sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: What’s your name? ;) drummerbro24: whats ur name drummerbro24: matt sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: I’m Jennifer! Pleased to make your aqcuaintance ;) sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: so Matt what are u up to tonite??? ;) drummerbro24: Nuttin. drummerbro24: Sittin at comp. drummerbro24: horny. sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: Oh really? ;) and why may I ask are u so horny? drummerbro24: Cuz of u. sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: I hope it’s not little old me . . . ;) sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: Oh, hehe, you’re sweet drummerbro24: want to cyber? sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: Hehe, I’m up for anything. sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: What are you wearing? drummerbro24: I’m licking ur clit and ur gettin so wet. sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: Oh, hehe, okay! drummerbro24: Im naked. sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: Mmmm . . . ;) drummerbro24: Aaaaaaaaaa ur suckin my 10 inch cock and im fukin u hard sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: Mmmm, how big’s your cock big boy? ;) sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: Oh, hehe, nm. drummerbro24: 1 foot shlong. sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: Mmmm, I put on some Justin Timberlake and dance in front of you in my lingerie. sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: Mmmm, you make me feel so sexy ;) drummerbro24: I’M CUMMMMMMINGGGGGGGGGG!!! drummerbro24: CUMMMMMIIIINNNNNGGGGG!!!!!! drummerbro24: !!!!!!!!!!!!!! drummerbro24: AAAAAAAAAAA!!!!! drummerbro24: AAAAAAAAAAAAa drummerbro24: did you cum too? sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: Yes ;) drummerbro24: Yah! drummerbro24: btw i saw JT live. He was great sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: OMG! I saw him last weekend tooo!!! drummerbro24: Word?? at the palladium? sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: So funny! sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: OMG! OMG! yes, he was amazing! drummerbro24: he was so sickk. sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: OMG! Where were you sitting? drummerbro24: 1st row. sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: OMG OMG OMG! ME TOO! drummerbro24: Where were u sittin? drummerbro24: Whut, crazy.

sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: Wait. sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: You’re not Matt Wilson are you? sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: Matt? sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: ? sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: ... drummerbro24: Greg? sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: Holy shit! sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: Oh man. sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: man sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: Hey sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: Matt sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: What’s up with you. sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: … drummerbro24: greg…is this you sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: Yeah, hey bro, what’s up. drummerbro24: nuttin. sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: Yeah, cool, same with me. drummerbro24: cool sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: Yeah. sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: Did you do math yet? drummerbro24: yeah sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: Cool cool sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: I thought it was hard. sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: I thought the last question was really hard. sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: Did you get the last question? drummerbro24: Yeah. sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: Cool drummerbro24: you had to know it was a special triangle. sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: yeah, exactly, i was trying to solve it just by its angles. drummerbro24: yeah you can’t do that. sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: yeah, i thought you could drummerbro24: so dude… sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: but you couldn’t. drummerbro24: you didn’t really cum right? drummerbro24: like actually cum? sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: ummm… sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: no sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: I didn’t drummerbro24: Ok, cool, great. sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: Yeah drummerbro24: I didn’t cum either. sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: cool drummerbro24: If you wanted to know. sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: sure sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: yeah, cool drummerbro24: cool sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: that’s good drummerbro24: alright well sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: I’m gonna finish up my work. drummerbro24: time to go to bed drummerbro24: yeah sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: right sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: yeah drummerbro24: peace man sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: Sleep tight. sugar_sexy_love_kitten_3434: Sleep tight Matt. drummerbro24: dude RIP

The Harvard Lampoon

Internet Sting Police officers often attempt to catch sexual predators by pretending to be teenage girls in online chat rooms and arranging a meeting.

WBB

Confess YOUR biggest no-no’s to Sparkle Teenage Magazine!

Detective: Excuse me, are you Mark? Mark: Yes? Detective: My name is Detective Harris. I’m the person you’ve been chatting with online. You’re under arrest. Mark: Wait—you were Kaitlyn? Detective: I was Kaitlyn. Mark: Wow. So all that stuff about your bra size being 34D? Detective: All lies. Mark: And that stuff about how the fifth Britney Spears album is better than the fourth because of the later tracks? Detective: Those were also lies. Mark: And that rant you went on about how they should make a mascara that doesn’t smudge so easily on humid days? Detective: Y- yes. That was a lie too. Mark: And that thing you said yesterday? About how you prefer Leggs Luxury Pantyhose to the Wolford brand because the former is thinner and less prone to runs? I’m pretty sure that was after we agreed to meet. Detective: Look—I grew up in a house with five sisters so I know a thing or two about teenage girls. Mark: Oh, I see. That makes sense. By the way, what happened to your forehead? It’s so red. Detective: It’s from my wig. MKG

“In 6th grade, I had to take the class hamster home for the weekend. I told the class its death was an accident. Really, though, I made it run around the hamster wheel, again and again, until it collapsed.” -Stacey, 22, Chicago. “I once told my parents I was going to the library when really I was going to this underground rave. But when I got there, I realized it actually was a library. I studied so much.” -Serena, 20, San Francisco “Last week, I told my gym teacher that I couldn’t play because I had my period. That’s a lie—I just hate volleyball. Actually, I haven’t gotten my period in a while. And I have a mysterious bruise on my knee. “ -Liz, 17, Madison. “Last June, I committed a federal tax felony.” -Martin, 54, Manhattan. “I think my dad reads this magazine.” -Michelle, 18, Manhattan. “One time I was cheating on a test, when I realized something—it was all wrong. I don’t mean morally wrong, I mean actually wrong. Never get answers from the kid who just sits next to the vending machine all day.” -Jennifer, 19, Seattle. JLF

Smoke & Mirrors #

Milli Vanilli Milli Vanilli shocked the world when they admitted they had lipsynced all of their songs. Later, they would explain that they did it by listening to their manager over the earpieces they wore on stage. “Okay, guys. Let’s do this. When you hear the music start, part your lips slightly, then open your jaws to about 3/4 capacity. A little farther. Nice. Now pull the corners of your lips back, then make your mouth a little wider than it is high. Really, really good. You guys are amazing. Move into O-shape...all right, here comes a tough part. Thrust out your lower lip slightly, then put your tongue against the back of your teeth for a split second, then back to O-shape. Hold for about ten seconds. 3...2...1... close. Great. Can you vibrate your mouth slightly, like you’re humming? Awesome. Now laugh in three short bursts...aaand you’re done. Nice job, guys. Come on back here and celebrate.” HHD

Weigh In

Coach: Alright McNay, get on the scale. McNay: You got it coach. Official: One-twenty-eight. Coach: Shit McNay, you’re supposed to be under one-twenty-five. You’re gonna have to take off those sweats. McNay: Sure thing coach. (takes off sweats, gets back on scale) Official: One-twenty-six. Coach: Jesus McNay, are you kidding me? Are you frickin’ serious? The biggest match of the year and you’re pullin’ this shit on me and the rest of the guys? I don’t know what to say. Take off your shirt I guess. McNay: But this shirt…it’s so light. I don’t think it’ll take anything off. But for the team, anything. (takes off shirt, gets back on scale). Official: One-twenty-five. Coach: In all my years of coaching, from high school to the Olympic level, I have never seen this kind of shit preparation for any kind of match, be it a championship or a scrimmage. Take off your underwear. McNay: You want me to…you want me to take off my underwear? Is that even allowed? Sorry, I shouldn’t even be asking this, this is all my fault. You got it coach. (takes off underwear, gets back on scale). Official: One-twenty-four. McNay: Wow, we did it coach. Coach? Coach: Listen, I can’t go on anymore—I’m not a wrestling coach, I’m a pedophile. I only coached you guys this season so I could see you naked. I feel like such a slime. (starts to cry). Official: Failure to have a coach is grounds for disqualification. McNay: Sir, we worked so hard to get here, it would be a shame if we got disqualified. I mean, my parents flew all the way in from Vermont. This might sound weird, but is there any way— Coach: (wiping away tears) Let’s go win a state championship. MKG

The Harvard Lampoon

Spy

I spent most of my adolescence spying on my parents. It worked surprisingly well:

Team Meeting Coach: Listen up, team, let’s get ready to have a great practice. Today I’m going to teach you a few trick plays I’ve picked up along the years that will give us the edge once we make it to the playoffs. Greg: Coach, I don’t mean to insult your experience as a coach or anything, but I don’t really think trick plays apply in our case. This is track. Coach:... Team:... Coach: I want you all to run backwards.

Mother: I’m worried about Jessica. Her teacher says she just sits under other kids’ desks, listening to their conversations. Father: Maybe they don’t notice. Kids are pretty oblivious these days. Mother: Not so oblivious that they don’t notice a person sitting under their desks. Do you hear that noise? Father: What noise? Mother: The one that sounds like a recording device. Father: Oh. I think that’s probably the broken clock on your nightstand. It must have fixed itself. Mother: That’s amazing. Anyway, I was thinking we should get her a tutor. To help her with her social skills. Father: A tutor? To teach her what, how to hide under desks better? Mother: No, to teach her how to interact with other children. Although, if she must hide, maybe how to conceal herself better. Father: I don’t know, sounds kind of silly. Hey, is that—is that personsized lump under the blanket on the couch something we should be alarmed about:? Mother: Sometimes the blanket just arranges itself in strange ways. Father: I think it just moved. I think the blanket just moved. Mother: Don’t be paranoid. Father (laughs): Yeah, you’re right. It’s all this spy talk. Sorry. Oh, before I forget, where did you move the key to the safe? Mother: It’s under the purple trashcan, next to the keys to the liquor cabinet. Father: Great. JLF

GMS

Smoke & Mirrors #

9 9 .

• Grilled Asparagus $6.99 • Garlic Bread Bruschetta $5.99 • Market Salad

$4.99 • Grilled Sausage w/Hot Peppers $5.99

• Caesar Salad

$5.99 • Fried Calamari

$6.99

• Cup of Soup

$4.99 • Meat Balls

$6.99

Ask waiter or waitress for available wines. • Small

Cannoli $5.99 • Cheesecake $5.99 • Spumoni $6.99

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Ibis Inklings - What’s None other than my dear friend, Urtain.

A man controlling everything.

If you’re referring to the Iron Curtain 1978 Pittsburgh Steelers defensive line, t

JonBenet Ramsey.

A woman controlling everything, but sh

Sideline Interview Booth Announcer: We now go down to the field where our own Pam Phillips is standing by. Pam: Thanks Joe. I’m here with Coach McIntyre. Coach, your team played a very good half of football. Coach: Thanks. I told the guys before the game that it was important we go into the locker room at least tied, and we’re ahead by three, so I’m pleased. Pam: Are there any adjustments you’re going to make for the second half? Coach: Actually yes. They’re covering our receivers pretty good, so we’re going to do a lot of plays where we send the back underneath for the short pass. They won’t think to cover him because we didn’t do that at all the first half. Pam: Are you for the most part going to stick to your game plan? Coach: Yes. But there are a couple of other things I’d like to try too. When the quarterback calls “Phantom 38” at the line, it means he’s going to fake a hand-off, fake down field, then do the actual hand-off. Kind of a double-fake, you know? And when he audibles “Blue Spider Red 18” that means the ball is going to be passed to the tight end. Pam: You know, you’re not obligated to tell m-Coach: Actually just “Red” means tight end. The “Blue Spider” part indicates that the weak side will be on the left. So let’s just hope they don’t blitz on the left side when we do that play. Pam: Coach, you’re playing one of the hottest teams in the AFC. What do you tell your team in the locker room to get them energized for a game like this? Coach: You know, I just tell them not to let up. That a football game is sixty minutes long. And that if we have a fourth-and-short situation, we’re going to try a fake punt. Pam: Coach, I’ll let you go in a moment. But can you just say anything about what this game means to you and your club. Coach: It means a lot. You know, many of the ups and downs of my marriage are related to what happens on Sunday. I try not to let me work affect my personal life, but a lot of times when I hit her, I realize it’s just a bunch of football frustration coming to a head. Pam: Coach McIntyre, thanks for your time and good luck with the second half. Back to you, Joe. JGH

A Von Trapp child who is wearing the curtain as playclothes while he sings songs about raindrops on roses and whiskers

An eagle wearing a Philadelphia Eagles hat. Go Eagles!

Another curtain. But what’s behind that one?!?!

“Oh! Honey! Hi! The maid and I... are just behind this

The Harvard Lampoon

The people that everyone wants dead: Osama bin

behind that curtain?

he is having her period.

A play .

Four naked women oiling each other up, $9/minute.

then the answer is a very weak free-safety.

Fabulous DRAPES!!!

Stolen art.

A window.

Goosebumps R.L. Stine, author of the horror series Goosebumps, is notorious for ending each chapter with a cliffhanger to keep his young readers in suspense. Here are some examples: The ghoul bellowed loudly as Michael desperately struggled to fit the skeleton key in the rusted keyhole of the cellar door. Suddenly, the key snapped in two! Michael stared in disbelief at the broken pieces. “Oh no,” he whispered. “Arrrrrgh!” his father screamed, knocking over yet another chair. Cowering in the corner, Michael covered his ears and closed his eyes. In a motion all too familiar to Michael, his father raised the flat of his hand, letting it hover menacingly just inches from his son’s face. The harbor calm was rudely interrupted by a flock of screaming gulls hovering and diving above a nearby mussel bed. Michael knew it was only a matter of time before the pier filled with nosey tourists and boardwalk patrolmen. He had to act fast. With all his might, he hurled the tightly sealed garbage bag into the choppy surf. “It’s an ugly world,” Michael reassured himself. “Baby is going to a better place.” But the bag wasn’t sinking. “What was that noise?” Michael thought. Anything. It could be anything. WBB

on kittens. He lives in Nazi Austria.

Elvis. Drunk again.

s curtain so she could...uh, wash my penis with her vagina.”

n Laden and Sonny Bono.

JonBenet Ramsey. Dead again. So many hours of the Vagina Monologues.

A dwindling collection of magazines from a few years ago.

Smoke & Mirrors #

Child Sponser America At Child Sponsor America, your monthly donations do wonders for your sponsored child and their families. - As little as 10 cents a day buys clean drinking water for a family of four. - Only a dollar a day will provide adequate medical care. - With a gift of 50,000 dollars, a talented actor/spokesperson will hug your sponsor child on national television. - 200,000 dollars pays for the telephone number being projected on your screen. - A donation of 1.5 million dollars allows this commercial to be aired in 3-D. - 10 million dollars purchases a special satellite that monitors every step your sponsor child takes. - Another thousand on top of that pays for speakers installed on the satelliteâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s exterior that play the song â&#x20AC;&#x153;Rap Superstarâ&#x20AC;? on a continuous loop as it orbits the Earth at 15,000 miles per hour. - A billion dollars buys every child 1 jet ski. WBB

Animal Rights If we as a society agree that animals have rights, then maybe we should stop buying and selling kittens and puppies like slaves. NHS, CRS

The Harvard Lampoon

Klansman In order to find out whether or not a person is a member of the Klan, Klansmen often say “AYAK,” which stands for “Are you a Klansman?” If the person is one, he’ll respond by saying “AKIA,” which stands for “A Klansman I am.” It’s probably pretty awkward when the person isn’t a member. -Hi, how are you? -I’m good thanks. Just filling her up. -Ah, same over here. Just a lazy Sunday. -Yes sir. -… -… -Ayak. -What? -Hello! MKG

Haircut Comix

NHS ART: JAP

Smoke & Mirrors #

The Harvard Lampoon

KPB

Insurance Fraud Comix

JBO, WBB ART: DNA

Conspiracy Theory Message Board government capable of mind control? Posted 3/10/08 at 8:03PM by conspiracynut22 Is it possible for the government to control your mind? I ask because I think I have personal evidence that proves this is happening. You see, every so often, when I’m alone, I start thinking about what another man looks like naked. It’s crazy, right? Usually, he has many muscles and he’s all oiled up. Haha, weird! Posted 3/10/08 at 8:06PM by conspiracynut22 Just a thought: is it also possible for the government to control the kind of bars you go to or how many sequins you put on your clothes?

Posted 3/11/08 at 11:32AM by conspiracynut22 No one has any idea? Every day, all I’m doing is thinking about naked men and also inviting them back to my place for romantic candlelit dinners. Anyone? Posted 3/11/08 at 9:27PM by conspiracynut22 Okay, you know when you have a dick in your mouth and a dick in your butt and two dicks in each hand? Help!

JSG, WBB

Smoke & Mirrors #

The Harvard Lampoon

Creative Process

Screenwriter: I would never pay a million dollars for a baby – not even the most beautiful baby in the world. [Woman’s neck breaks in boxing match accident] Screenwriter: I have an idea for a movie! CRS, ERS

Oliver Stone

“Bud Fox” and “Gordon Gekko” are two characters from one of Oliver Stone’s most acclaimed films, Wall Street. The following are characters from some of his lesser-known films. Stephen Crocodile Veronica Spider Robert Murderer Elizabeth Biological-Mother Herbert My-Hats-Are-Symbolic Richard M. Nixon

Smoke & Mirrors #

WBB

Oscar Nomination Process by CRS, KPB 36

The Harvard Lampoon

Magician Magician: You called for me, Mr. President? President: Yes. You are the magician that makes buildings disappear, right? Magician: That’s right. President: And you bring them back, what, like five minutes later? Magician: Precisely. And let me just say what an honor it is ... President: I have need of your services, magician. Magician: I have performed at galas for European royalty, sir, and it will truly be a pleasure to add your name to list of heads of state to which I’ve ... President: It’s the Empire State Building. Magician: Sorry? President: Can you make it disappear? Magician: Well, I, uh, yes, but ... President: And there’s no shenanigans about this magic, is there? It’s real, isn’t it? Magician: Why ... of course! President: There’s been a credible terrorist threat against the Empire State Building. I need you to make it disappear for five minutes tomorrow. Magician: Mr. President, I’m not sure you ... President: Your country depends on you. [lengthy pause] Magician: Get me four cameras and a huge rotating platform.

Walk This Way

NHS

Nurse: Hey Timmy, remember when you made that Make-A-Wish to have Aerosmith come visit you? Timmy: [weakly] Yes. Yes I do. Nurse: Well, here they are. Ladies and gentleman of the children’s hospital ward, I give you… AEROSMITH! Steven Tyler: Walk this waaaaaayyyyyy…. Talk this waaaaaaaaayyyyyy!!! Timmy: I remember when I could walk that way. Now I can only walk like this. [puts on leg braces] Nurse: No, Timmy, don’t! Your bones – they can’t handleTimmy: [hobbles around room] Walk this waa - ow. Ow this hurts so much. W-w-waaalkSteven Tyler: Great walkin’ kid. Waaaalk this waaaaayyyy!!! Other Patient: My Make-A-Wish was for the pain to go away. CRS

Smoke & Mirrors #

PePPer Grinder

Waiter: (grinding) Sir, just tell me when. Patron: … Waiter: Sir, let me know when you want me to stop. Patron: … Waiter: Sir? D-Do you want me to stop? Please just say something. Patron: … Waiter: Sir? Do you want this much pepper? I’m sorry, I know you’re a patron. I’ll keep going. Patron: … Waiter: Sir, with every passing second, more pepper is going onto your food… do you understand that? Do you understand what is happening? Patron: … Waiter: Is this…are you even going to eat this? The other customers… they- they’re all looking at you. Patron: … Waiter: Jesus Christ sir, what are you? Are you a human? Are you an actual human being? Or are you some kind of freak or something? I- I can’t even see the food anymore. Patron: … Waiter: Oh my God sir, this isn’t funny …my arm, it’s…oh my God it’s spasming… Patron: Okay that’s good. Waiter: Bon appétit sir. MKG

Salem

Hakim

Whenever my friends and I all go out drinking, our policy is a strict “leave no man behind.” Like when Jeremy’s on his eleventh piña colada and he’s too sloppy to ask the bartender for his usual four paper parasols. Hey, Frankie (this guy’s the man—he’s already been drinking for hours), call this guy a cab! That’s what I’m talking about. We all look out for each other. Then there’s Hakim, who’s the kind of guy that takes one drink, puts on his size nineteen Air Jordans, and, for the rest of the night, mimics that slam dunk Michael Jordan used to do with his legs spread really wide apart and his tongue lolling out all over the place. It’s disgusting.

Bailiff: Well, Sister Elizabeth, I must say we owe you a pretty big apology. Witch: What? Bailiff: Didn’t you hear? Two young girls confessed. It was all a big hoax. We’ve made a terrible mistake. Witch: Two girls? Really? Bailiff: Anyway, you’re free to go. We’re so, so sorry. Witch: Everyone makes mistakes…look, I was thinking that maybe I could stay a while. Bailiff: Stay? But you’re free! You’ve been wrongfully accused! Witch: Right…it’s just that I think, you know, maybe I’d be better off in jail. Bailiff: I’m not sure I understand… Witch: I’ve…done some things…and I know you said this was all just a big misunderstanding, but, it would probably be better for everyone if I stayed here…away from children…or people. Bailiff: Sister Elizabeth? Witch: Look, maybe it was all just a big hoax. Maybe those two girls were just looking for attention. But then again maybe witchcraft does exist. Maybe I walk with the devil in my dreams. Bailiff: Oh, very funny. You’re trying to get a rise out of me. Come on, out of your cell. That’s it. Witch: Please…you don’t understand…I lure children with candy and then I cannibalize them. I can’t stop. Think of your family. You...you have to kill me.

EFM

WBB

The Harvard Lampoon

Filibuster

J O K E

Well, it’s been a long road, folks. You stopped my filibusters time and time again. I would only get 8 hours into a diatribe about adding John Grisham to Mount Rushmore before 60 of you guys would get together and stop me. 3/5 majority, that’s all it takes. It’s in the Constitution. For now. Well, let me tell you, it’s a new America. An America where if you pay off Big Tobacco, the NRA, and the guy who produced Mr. Holland’s Opus, you can get 40 deaf-mute senators elected across the country. I bet the 59 of you who I call the “talkies” feel pretty stupid for not learning sign language, don’t you? Here’s where I begin to sign a beautifully constructed speech about the necessity of campaign finance reform. Yes, look at them all, nodding their heads. They’re willing to let this go on as long as it takes. They can’t believe you don’t want to support my plan to forbid terrorists from donating to presidential campaigns. They think you’re monsters. Mainly because when I do this swooping thing with my pinky, I’m telling them that the junior Senator from Idaho is a pedophile. And that you did nothing to stop him. So now that I have your attention, for… forever, I guess, we should probably get acquainted. My name’s Ted, my favorite television show of all time is Everybody Loves Raymond and I own a golden retriever. Excuse me while I pee in this bottle. This filibuster could take a while. Can someone get a Senate page to hold this bottle? I can’t do the sign language if I’m holding my junk.

B O X

Here is the part of my speech where I show the Senators what music is like through a colored light show. I’m going to make Mr. Holland’s Opus our national movie in their honor. Look at them. They’re doing that deaf applause thing where you wave your fingers around. I’ve got them in the palm of my hand. My signing hand. But really, let’s get John Grisham on Mt. Rushmore. The Firm was a great airplane read. CRS

H I’ve always assumed my father has a secret family in another city because that way I won’t be disappointed if I find out it’s true. WBB

How I became so superstitious: Me: (breaks mirror) Storeowner: That will be twenty dollars, please. Me: Oh my God...so it begins.

JLF

Smoke & Mirrors #

A fat man runs into an office

Interview with a Vampire Reporter: Hello. Vampire: Hello. Reporter: (dies of mysterious circumstances)

Director: Hey, Mikey. Thanks for coming in. Actor: (out of breath) Of course, Joe. I was just in the middle of changing. Your assistant called me right when I was putting my shirt on, so I decided not to finish changing and just come over here right away without putting any pants on. I hope that’s okay. I slipped in the hall on the way over in my socks because I was running too fast. Director: We’re going to have to let you go, Mikey. The producers have decided they want to have your character play a nude scene. Actor: Well, it’s not the kind of thing I’m used to, but I think I could pull it off. Whoops, hold on. My, uh…(pulling his shirt down over his belly)…it rolls up by itself. I’m sorry. Director: You’re obviously a great actor, Mike. But after talking with the producers I don’t know if you’re the right guy for the job. Actor: Hold on. Man, I’m sorry. Sometimes it uh…(laughs)…my shirt just rolls up like this all the way up to my armpits and I don’t even notice. It can get pretty embarrassing. Director: Yeah. Listen, Mikey. I feel really bad about this. Actor: Just a sec, Joe. I’m sorry. I just…damnit…I’m just going to leave it like this. Is that okay? Director: You’re a great actor, buddy. I’m really sorry about this. EFM

JSG

The Harvard Lampoon

planet Dick Yes, I have a big penis. But, to be candid, it really hasn’t enhanced my life. Sure, I’ll get some extra attention in the locker room, maybe some “woo-woos” from the guys, maybe even a nickname or two (Super Silo, Planet Dick). But at the end of the day, I have to study for the geometry test just like everybody else. I have to know how to operate a TI-86 calculator just like everybody else, and, in fact, it’s tougher for me because I have to use my right hand, the hand which most normal penis-sized people use to press the operations buttons (+, -, ×.÷), to hold my penis up and keep it from scraping the floor. Whenever I play guitar I have to play standing up because otherwise my dick changes the angle of the fret board and causes me to play C instead of F7. When I clear my tray at lunch, I have to make sure my fly is up because one time it wasn’t and I accidentally put my dick on the conveyor belt and because it’s so big it got caught in the big rollers on the side so all the trays got stalled up and there was eggplant and ice cream going everywhere until finally the specialist arrived and detached my dick from the gearbox. But more than the inconveniences, it’s the constant embarrassment, the feeling that I have something to hide, which I obviously can’t, given its massive size. Whenever I cross my legs, it peeks out, especially when I’m wearing my cargo shorts which shrunk in the wash (thanks Dad!). When that happens, everyone can see it and sometimes people laugh but more often they just look at it and look at me and eventually give me the “put your penis away” gesture, which I’ve come to know all too well. And then I put it away, but of course it comes back. It always comes back.

CRS, JSG ART: KS

MKG

Smoke & Mirrors #

Lessons I Learned from the Rush Hour Film Trilogy If outnumbered, have a friend throw you while you kick. All surfaces are slideable. Don’t panic. It’s not your blood. His gun is also out of bullets. Protect the child. The American consulate will explode the next time you visit. Asian women are good until age 17. Then they become evil. Asian men from age 15 to age 50 are evil. Asian children and old Asian men enjoy good-hearted mischief. Catch that crazy bitch. Shut up, he’s standing right behind you. Black people are always good. Hispanic people are always good. Middle Eastern people do not exist. White people are serious. The most beautiful woman will help you. The second most beautiful woman will try to kill you. Follow clues to exotic places. Follow your heart. Tiny’s actual stature will surprise you. No, silly, that’s her name! There is a huge misunderstanding regarding identities. Drop your weapon. Uh oh, karaoke bar. You know what that means. The address is for a strip club. She understands what you’re saying. She speaks English. Friendship is great. If you go to a tall place, you will escape by falling. Never touch a black man’s radio. RIP

Giving Blood

Wrestling Not everyone knows how hard pro wrestlers work to keep people believing that the sport is real. Consider the true story of WWF legend Owen Hart: Hart: Hey down there, Godfather, you ready for me? Because once I’m in the ring, it’s wrestle time! Godfather: Hart, get down from the rafters so I can pound your face like I do. Hart: [falls 78 feet down from rafters] Godfather: [wrestles corpse until commercial] GMS

-Thank you so much for being here. Now before you give blood I need to ask you a few questions. -Sure. -Have you ever had anal sex with a man, even once? -What?! -Sir, I’m required to ask these questions by federal law. -Okay, fine. No I haven’t. -Even once? -No. -[skeptically] Even once? -Not once. -[eyeing the donor; extremely skeptical] Not even one time? You haven’t had anal sex with a man even one time? -Is all this required by federal law? -I’ll take that as a maybe. -This is ridiculous. -Sir, I’m just as uncomfortable with all this as you. But it’s my job. And I have to do it, no matter how awkward it may be. We’re in the business of saving lives and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let a little embarrassment get in the way. I would hope you’d feel the same way. Now can I please continue with questions? -Fine, go ahead. -What turns you on? NHS

The Harvard Lampoon

Huffing Glue

Indy

Knight: Hello? Indy: Hey. Knight: You – you’re here for the grail? Indy: Yep. Knight: Right…uh…right, let me just…I’m not quite sure… Indy: It looks like there’s a bunch of cups on that table… Knight: Cups? Oh yes, cups! I’m sorry, it’s just been so long…no one has ever… Indy: I’m guessing I have to drink from the real one? Knight: I think – yes, I think that’s right…listen…you…you got through all the…the traps? Indy: Yea…had a few close calls, actually. Knight: So…the razor-sharp, spinning blades? You got past those? Indy: Uh, yep. Knight: And the stone path? The one that collapses over a bottomless pit? Indy: Afraid so. Knight: The bridge! What about the bridge? It – it was invisible! That took me…I spent years… Indy: All of these cups are the same except for this wooden one. That’s the one I want. Knight: Fine, be my guest, go right ahead… Indy: Reverse psychology? [lengthy silence] Knight: Goddammit. WBB

Listen, huffing glue is not a big deal or anything, so stop giving me shit for it. I only do it every so often anyway, like at the start of my day, or when I’m going to bed, or, you know, as a reward I occasionally give myself, on the hour, every hour. It’s a beautiful thing, too. Just imagine how amazing it is to have your mind expanded, your face lost in a blissful tingly sensation as your nostrils slowly seal themselves shut. It’s not like glue is illegal. It’s sold to children, and no one cares when they spend all their money trying to permanently attach a glue funnel to their face. Oh, but for some reason “society” doesn’t think it’s okay for me to huff glue. Like the cashier at the local supply store, who won’t sell it to me anymore because the last time I came in there I had two empty glue bottles stuck to my nose. I wasn’t even there to buy glue, obviously. Just glue remover, which I huff now as well. Maybe if huffing glue had some major impact on my health or lifestyle I’d consider stopping. But, if anything, it’s made my life better. Every time I huff glue, I get this amazing feeling that reminds me how good huffing glue actually is for my body, and that the only way to really save this world is to keep huffing glue, more and more each time. Okay, sure, my left leg might shake uncontrollably for hours at a time, but that probably would have happened to me anyway. Plus, the brief period after I huff glue is the only escape I have from these seizures, although it also makes them more frequent, violent, and painful just seconds later. In short, I will not rest until every man, woman, and child approves of my habit, in that they are all, also, addicted to glue. JSG

Dinner in the Dark New York City singles looking for a different kind of dating experience can take part in “Dinner in the Dark” events, during which they eat and converse in complete darkness, in effect rendering physical appearance a non-factor in compatibility and attraction. Michael: Hi, I’m Michael. Sofia: I’m Sofia. Nice to meet you. (They attempt to shake hands in the dark, struggle for a few seconds, then connect, laughing nervously) Michael: So what do you do? Sofia: I’m a high school teacher. Mainly math, but also some English. I really love it. How about you? Michael: I’m actually in between jobs right now. I used to be a trial attorney but had to stop because jury members said they couldn’t bear to look at my face while I was speaking. So where are you from? Sofia: Uh, Duluth. But wait—can you tell me more about your work? Michael: Oh, well just that I’m in between jobs right now. I was actually hired to be the main face for the American Craniofacial Deformity Association, but in the end they decided it would be too dangerous to put my face on a billboard that people look at while they’re driving. Sofia: Wow. Michael: Yeah, so what’s Duluth like these days? Pretty cold, I bet! Sofia: W- What? Yes, it’s very cold. So…what do you like to do for fun? Michael: Oh anything really. I really like animals. I used to go to the zoo a lot. That is, until they started making me wear a special bracelet so that the zoo employees know I’m a human and not some kind of warthog. But anyway, tell me more about yourself. Like what did you do today? Sofia: I can’t remember now. My mind, it’s…it’s not working for some reason. What did you do? Michael: Mostly just got my face into a presentable state. That took up most of the day. MKG

Smoke & Mirrors #

Houdini Houdini was rumored to have secret signals that he would give to his assistant and wife, Beatrice Houdini, to let her know if something had gone wrong in order to guarantee his escape. Unfortunately, she got sick one day and needed to be replaced at the last minute. Announcer 1: Welcome listeners. Houdini is now getting ready for his newest escape where he will be hogtied and then thrown to the bottom of the ocean with an enormous weight fastened to his neck. Announcer 2: Here comes his assistant with the ropes. Apparently Houdini’s usual assistant, Beatrice, fell ill and needed to be replaced at the last minute by an old sailor they found working down by the docks. Announcer 1: Here he is taking out…more ropes. At least ten ropes, ladies and gentlemen. He’s tying up Houdini’s hands and feet. Announcer 2: Houdini lightly taps one of the knots with his fingers, smiles, and winks at his assistant. Not sure what this means, Frank, but the old sailor isn’t paying attention. Announcer 1: That’s right, John. This new assistant has his eyes on the ground and is concentrating hard on unraveling another rope so it doesn’t tangle. Announcer 2: Ladies and gentlemen, Houdini is tapping that knot pretty anxiously. Could it be a signal for something? No one seems to be noticing. Announcer 1: The old sailor has since lit up a pipe and is now just staring out over the sea. I don’t think he—wait…yep, he’s back, and now he’s tying Houdini’s arms and legs together behind his back with a renewed vigor, leaving Houdini on his stomach, completely motionless. Announcer 2: Looks like Houdini’s still squirming a bit, though. And…winking? Yes, he’s winking furiously at the old sailor and shaking his head. (laughs) Look at that. The poor old man is too busy rereading his instructions to notice. Announcer 1: Well at least he remembered to double check all the knots and even tie a few more just in case, like the one right there that’s squeezing against Houdini’s neck. Announcer 2: He sure did. And now it looks like he’s…yep, the old man’s giving the thumbs up, ladies and gentlemen. Looks like the clasp for the weight won’t fit around Houdini’s neck because of the knot, and will instead go around his face. Announcer 1: Houdini seemed to be trying to mouth something to his assistant right there at the last moment before the clasp went on. The old man had already wandered off to the side, though. Announcer 2: Right on, Frank. The weight is now completely fastened. The crane here is now supposed to lift Houdini one hundred feet above the water and… Announcer 1: I can’t tell you how exciting this is to see, ladies and gentlemen. Announcer 2: And there he goes. Houdini is under the water. Announcer 1: This is nerve-racking. Nerve-racking. How long before he emerges, John? Announcer 2: A while. It’ll be at least four minutes before he even reaches the ocean floor. Announcer 1: So exciting.

Personalized Vows Pastor: Jeffrey. Do you promise to love and cherish Abby, in sickness and in health, for better and for worse, until your career is at a point where you can do better? Jeffrey: I do. Pastor: Abby. Do you promise to stay at more or less the same weight you are now, given ten pounds of leeway during pregnancy, and for the two months following? Do you promise not to cut your hair short even if it’s easier to take care of, and to be happy with the kitchen and bathrooms you have, even if the appliances could be updated? Abby: I do. Pastor: It is now socially acceptable for you to procreate. JGH

EFM

The Harvard Lampoon

JGH, CRS

Smoke & Mirrors #

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Kid Phantom

Episode synopses from Kid Phantom, the CW’s new show about the life of a teenaged Phantom of the Opera. THE DETENTION Phantom gets Saturday detention with five of his classmates. “A brain, a beauty, a jock, a criminal, and a basketcase – to the rest of the world, we seemed so different…” muses Rick, the jock. “Who would’ve guessed that we all hate freaks?” “I see him looking at me!” shouts Jaime, the beautiful girl. “I thought I told you to stay inside your hole,” Patrick tells Phantom, approaching ominously. THE BLIND DATE Phantom worries that his blind date will be frightened by his face – but gets a lucky break. “Hello, I’m Gina,” the date says as she enters the restaurant, turning to reveal her face to the audience. She has Down syndrome.

Mail-order bride by KPB

The Day I Met My Wife Me: I said no redheads. Biff: Listen— Me: No redheads. Absolutely no redheads. I’ll take the Chinese one if she cooks. Biff: She’s yours.

Thank you, God, thinks Phantom. THE SUB There’s a new substitute teacher at Paris High – and she thinks Phantom is a troublemaker. “Take off that silly mask!” the teacher tells Phantom during roll call. An hour of strategically placing objects in front of his face ensues. “And just what do you think you’re doing?” she asks him repeatedly. “Oh, me?” Phantom says, holding, for example, a math book an inch in front of his eyes. “Just trying this new type of studying – closestudy, it’s called!” THE MASQUERADE Phantom is excited to go to Paris High’s annual masquerade ball. I can’t believe it, thinks Phantom, happy for the first time in ages, I’m dancing with Stacy, the girl of my dreams. “Look, everybody!” someone shouts. “That kid has only half a mask – he must be poor!” THE LOST OINTMENT Phantom loses his ointment jar. He gets terrible mask sores. “Oh no, where did I put my jar?” Phantom asks. JBO

The Harvard Lampoon

NHS

Slimmer Comix

JSG, CRS ART: DNA

Smoke & Mirrors #

Seance

Dearest Diary, It is three years today since the Angels took dear Joseph away from me, and so I am finally allowed to leave this dreary old mourning bed! My physician says it may take many doses of opium to restore my legs to their former usability, but the thought of movement at all sets my heart aflutter. The first thing I mean to do is attend a Séance, a new process by which they say one can make contact with the Spirit world. O, to think that I could speak to Joseph again is my only comfort on this Earth. That, and hoping that if he comes close enough I can catch him in some sort of jar. Dearest Diary, I went to my first sitting today. It was led by one Madame Allaire. She took me into her drawing room and turned off all the lights. Diary, I will not be misleading you when I say I was quite unprepared for what came next—a rap upon the table in front of me! And then, a rap upon the bookcase! And finally, the table again. This otherworldly clamour was quite alarming to my senses, but imagine my astonishment when I heard notes ring out from the piano—which nobody had been sitting at all near when the lights were on. Who could it have been but my dear Joseph?! I fainted many times. Happily, Madame Allaire had her vial of smelling mercury close at hand, and I made a hasty recovery. On leaving I moved to pay her, but would you believe it, the money simply spilled from my hands to the floor! I became alarmed and worried that it was the work of some malicious Spirit. Then I realized that it was simply the mourning weights, which have bent my wrists into the most absurd angles. How Joseph would have laughed to see them. Dearest Diary, During today’s sitting, I could have sworn I heard a person crouching around the room, bumping into pieces of furniture. I passed it off as my imagination, until I felt a string brush against my leg. Why, it was just as if one of Joseph’s strings, those dear little strings he used for arms, was clutching at me from beyond! Then, I felt the string go tense, and heard a rap upon the table in front of me. Thank goodness my physician accompanied me, for I’m certain I’d have gone into hysterics without his prompt administration of an extra corset. Madame Allaire assures me that Joseph is trying to make contact. And do you know, I’ve never felt closer to him, except for the times when my living body was next to his living body, and we spoke to each other in a language based on English words, instead of occasional knocks against wood.

If I had a time machine, here’s what I would do, in order:

Dearest Diary, I was getting ready to go to Madame Allaire’s today, when Fanny came in to my dressing room and exclaimed, “Why, missus! Wherever do you think you’re going?” And it dawned upon me that my weeklong mourning respite was over, and it was time to go back into the vault. It had slipped my mind entirely. Well, Fanny, I said, I suppose we shall meet again in another three years! The same goes for you, Diary. I have made myself a promise that this time, I shan’t forget what light is like.

1. Find out how a microwave works, go back to the 1800s, invent the microwave, and then go up to women and be like, “I invented the microwave.” 2. Have sex with those women. 3. Stop the Kennedy assassination. 4. Go back to the Kennedy assassination again, but this time go up to Kennedy and say something really cryptic and mysterious and then don’t stop the assassination. 5. Have lunch with Einstein and tell him some crazy shit about the future. 6. Make Einstein pick up the check. 7. Go back to before the World Series, and bet on the losing team just so people don’t get suspicious. 8. Eat a ton of ice cream, and then go back and say, “I’m so not hungry for ice cream right now!” People will be amazed at my self-discipline. 9. Go to a beheading just so right after I could say “That’s gonna leave a mark!” 10. Coin the phrase “Remember the Alamo,” before the Alamo even happens, and then later people will be like “holy shit.” 11. Talk to the captain of the Titanic and say, “So the ship’s unsinkable, eh?” and when he asks what I mean, just smile knowingly and wink. Then ask if I could sit in his chair. 12. Make a dentist appointment because I’ve been meaning to do that for a while. 13. Maybe stop the Holocaust.

JBO

NHS

Dearest Diary, Ever so many raps today. Afterwards, I took the carriage through the park to clear my mind. How pleasant it is to peek out at things from a window covered in many layers of black velvet.

Time Machine

The Harvard Lampoon

Parlor Tricks Anyone can be the center of attention at the next cocktail party simply by mastering these easy magic tricks! -Shuffle a deck of cards. Ask a bystander to pick one card from the deck, memorize it, and return it to the deck. Cut the deck four times, count to fifty, and then guess four of clubs. If you’re wrong, tell them you had them under a spell. -Ask for a volunteer. If no one responds, say “will it take magic to produce a volunteer?” Then, casually change the subject. -Ask someone for a dollar bill. Fold it over and sideways. When you unfold it, it will magically be upside down. Tell them you need the dollar because you are poor, and then give it back later yelling “I was kidding, I’m rich!” NHS

Smoke & Mirrors #

Need a lawyer?

Subscribe to the Harvard Lampoon online at www.harvardlampoon.com or at Jester, Ibis, and Blot, L.L.P.

$20 for 5 issues $35 for 10 issues $50 for 15 issues $10,000 for bail

CREDITS Issue Editor: WBB Art Editor: JAP Cover: JAP Layout: JAP, WBB, MKG Ad Layout: AAT, JAK, WBB, MKG Uncredited Art: NCJ, ASG Unsolicited Art: MKG, WBB Mime-o-caust: NCJ Goodbye: JAP Laser Sensors: DNA Internet Sting: NCJ Milli Vanilli: KS Spy: KS Team Meeting: DNA Child Sponsor America: JTL Animal Rights: JTL Klansman: JAP Internal Document: DNA Creative Process: NCJ Oliver Stone: JTL Magician: JAP Walk This Way: DNA Hakim: SMC Filibuster: ASG Fat Man: DNA Houidini: ASG Mail-Order Bride: SMC Kid Phantom: KS Around the Campfire: ASG Parlor Tricks: NCJ

WBB thanks JAP, MKG, and AAT for their hard work and enthusiasm. WBB also thanks his family and friends. WBB apologizes to the City of Boston. JAP thanks Emily Farl Powers for moral support and the Shangri-Las for psychological support. JAP apologises profusely to the City of Cambridge, the ad board, and his public defender. JAP promises his mother “he will not sail too close to the wind again.” Next Issue:

The Get Off My Lawn #

Mo Larry presents the 133rd executive board of shit-heads: Robert I. Padnick ’09 of Beverly Hills, CA and Mather House, President; Christopher R. Schleicher ‘09 of Winchester, MA and Adams House, President; Matthew K. Grzecki ’10 of Wellesley, MA and Eliot House, Ibis; Emmet F. McDermott ’09 of New York, NY and Dunster House, Narthex; Michael B. Hess ’09 of New York, NY and Eliot House, Treasurer; Nathaniel H. Stein ’10 of Wellesley, MA and Kirkland House, Librarian and Nave; William B. Bailey ’08 of Winchester, MA and Dunster House, Sackbut; Natalie C. Jacoby ’10 of Richmond, VA and Eliot House, Hautbois; Kate Sweeney ’10 of Amityville, NY and Dunster House, Hautbois; John B. Owen ‘10 of Washington, CT and Eliot House, Sanctum; Kevin P. Bartley ‘10-‘11 of Lewes, DE and Dunster House, Sanctum; Daniel N. Ashwood ’10 of New Brighton, MN and Adams House, Blot; Samuel W. Teller ’08-’09 of Los Angeles, CA and Adams House, Business Manager; Alexander A. Taubman ’09 of Bloomfield Hills, MI and Kirkland House, Advertising Manager; Alexander M. Rohr ‘11 of New York, NY and Hurlbut Dormitory, Circulation Manager; Ross E. Arbes ‘08 of Atlanta, GA and Dunster House, Vanitas.

The Harvard Lampoon