The McGill Tribune TUESDAY, MARCH 29 2022 | VOL. 41 | ISSUE 24
EDITORIAL
McGILLTRIBUNE.COM | @McGILLTRIBUNE
Published by the SPT, a student society of McGill University
FEATURE
THE JOKE ISSUE
The Palestine Solidarity Policy must stand
Study on naked mole rats makes SHOCKING discovery (18+)
Opening the curtains to the Montreal theatre scene
PG. 5
PG. 13
PGs. 8-9
I’m not a robot
(Jackie Lee / The McGill Tribune)
Cuffing season is over: Best places on campus to break up with your significant other The end of the semester is approaching, and so is the end of your relationship Dante Ventulieri Staff Writer Whether it’s the green spaces, reading rooms, restaurants, or historical architecture, there’s no shortage of places on campus to fall in love. However, when deciding where to break up with someone, things get a bit muddier. To help out
with these nerve-wracking decisions, The McGill Tribune has identified the best spots at McGill to end things with your partner. Birks Basement The stained glass Birks chapel and study room are among the most romantic places on campus, great
for asking out your crush. The basement, on the other hand, is a decrepit network of weird hallways, mysterious rooms, and unsettling bathrooms: The perfect place to end it with your not-so-perfect other half. Bonus points if you both had to take your shoes off at the entrance. PG. 15
Know Your Athlete: Varsity ghosts of McGill
Meet the unfortunate souls of athletes who haunt the bleachers of Molson Stadium Sarah Farnand, Sophia Gorbounov, & Madison McLauchlan Sports Editors & Managing Editor After the Athletics department brutally murdered a slew of varsity sports last fall, many athletes on these fallen teams lost their minds, some of them literally. The scores of ghostly figures haunting the entrance of Love Competition Hall, the corridors of McConnell Arena, and the bleachers at Percival Molson Stadium have become regular fixtures of the athletics scene at McGill. The McGill Tribune
Sports section summoned a few otherworldly presences by seance to understand what life, or the afterlife rather, has been like for these phantom athletes. We first met Meathead Jones at the stroke of midnight on the thirty-yard line of the Percival Molson football field. A former member of the lacrosse team, whose varsity status was viciously struck down by McGill’s evil overlords last fall, Jones lopes around the field with crosse in hand, pantomiming—or phantomiming— the drills he used to run with his fellow teammates. PG. 16