The March Madness Issue by The Plumber's Faucet

The March Madness Issue

The Plumberâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s

Faucet VOLUME XXXII ISSUE VI march 30th, 2016

The Plumber’s Faucet - Vol. 32 No. 6

CONTRIBUTERS

LETTER FROM THE EDITOR

Editor-In-Chief

Malcolm McClintock

March is indeed a time for madness. Sports be damned, non-athletes have every right to go insane as well. From erratic elections and rapturous referendums to a plain and simple case of clinical insanity, there’s an undeniable heightened sense of tension in the air. While any experienced engineer would suggest a cathartic release via orgy (and you should at least TRY that), laughter may be the cure. Or it could be the final trigger [TRIGGERED], I’m no psychologist.

Writers

Emmet Austin Anita Hagh Jacob Garrah Daniel Galef Malcolm McClintock Liam Duff-Meadwell

Illustrators

Celestine Hong (c0ver) Manon Chiorri Malcolm McClintock

Support

Camille Warner

Disclaimer

The Plumber’s Faucet is a Publication of the Engineering Undergraduate Society of McGill University. The opinions expressed in the Faucet are not necessarily those of the EUS nor of any other university body, unless such opinion appears over an authorized signature of a representative of the said body. The Faucet does not print works which are sexist, libelous, racist, homophobic, or violating the copyright laws of Canada. It should be noted that some content is meant to be satirical or humourous in nature. For general enquiries, contact faucet@mcgilleus.ca.

Complaints

The EUS takes complaints very seriously. All complaints should begin with the heading “Official Protest to Content in The Plumber’s Faucet”, and should be sent to vpcomm@mcgilleus.ca, publications.director@mcgilleus.ca, and faucet@ mcgilleus.ca.

With March dwindling, April Fools is here, the holiest of all high holidays. Take those power tools to work and go dismantle something, hide some Smirnoff in mysterious locations, or do the classic prank of faking a murder forcing your closest friend to defect to the military. Or you could join us at Blues Pub this Friday, “Another Summer Blues Pub!” If you haven’t had enough of uninspired, slightly confusing Blues Pub themes we’re bringing it to you with our reinvigorated partner-in-publication, The Plumber’s Ledger! This issue contains a compilation of scathing theatre reviews, a brand new advice collumn, and an opportunity for YOU the reader to establish the storyline of a fulltime attorney at law. If you want to get involved with the production of such tomfoolery, The Faucet is looking for editors and contributors! While it takes away your personal time, forces you to go to gerts, and might even make you a little bit more literate than you’d like, at least it pays well write? Write. WRITE.

Malcolm Mc clintock

The Plumber’s Faucet vol. 32 no. 6

Wednesday, March 30th, 2016 ISSN (print): 1707-7478 ISSN (online): 2291-3513

HAIL PHIL While Groundhog Day is over, Phil lives on in spirit.

An EUS Publication

March 30th, 2016

Eastern Engineering Conference: Halifax 2016 by Sinbad the Salad tosser With the formalities and introductions achieved (and then forgotten and then re-performed the morning after) we were ready to get down to brass taxes. This was a group that did not fuck around; highly organized and dedicated to improving engineering undergraduate life through effective communication and resource mitigation. As such, the first order of business on this historic occasion was a two hour photo shoot at the scenic beaches of Nova Scotia. The first problem we ran into was that apparently Nova Scotia does not have any scenic beaches in the month of February. But undeterred we proceeded to perform such classic photo shoots as shaking hands, shaking fists, shaking it off, man waving at camera, man waving sword at camera, and dunkeroos in super chilled fluids. With no business accomplished and sunlight burning quickly away, the group decided a change of venue (preferably one where talking was allowed) was in order to achieve our important goals. Luckily, we had the premiere venue booked for us. The Split Crow, formally known as the Spread Eagle (seriously, look it up), the oldest tavern in Nova Scotia and possibly the whole Atlantic, was where the historic constitution of our conference would be written and signed. Unfortunately, on our way to retrieve the constitution from Dalhousie, we simply got drunk at their campus and showed up late, thus settling on the next best venue, a Boston Pizza directly across the street. And oh what merriment we had. We sang, we drank, we went

gonezo, and dined on the finest Montreal smoked meat sandwiches Halifax had to offer. With bellies full of food and fun, we set off to explore more of historical Halifax, while proceeding to be dutifully asked to leave every venue we arrived at. That’s right. Every exit we made thereafter was not of our own fruition (not including the Burrito Bistro we lulled around at). This lead to the one major motion we actually managed to pass to improve student life for all of Atlantic and eastern Canadian engineers; holy shit McGill, please turn it down, or, as is more colloquially accepted, “Halifuck right off”. Ah, but the folly of this trip was not in vain. The site had been surveyed. The foundation had been laid. All that is left is to build a great monument to the ties that bind us during these precious years as eastern engineering undergraduates. There is so much we can squeeze out of our time here, and as students of such esteemed societies, it is our duty to engage one and another and help make everyone’s experience one

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for the ages. Talk to strangers; order exotic dishes; take silly photos, faceswap (responsibly), enter a bar not knowing if it’ll be the last one of the night, and one day, if you ever look to the east with a keen eye and wandering spirit, get in a car with friends and drive until you’ve found what you’re looking for.

The Plumber’s Faucet - Vol. 32 No. 6

Minutes from Salisbury Steakholder’s Meeting of Stakeholders by Gonezo

An emergency board meeting was called between the international stakeholders of Salisbury Stakeholder incorporated after it was revealed their newest design specs had been leaked to their competition. Sir Loinard will be chairing the meeting; notable non-stakeholding chairs include design lead Jessica Chuck and recent head of manufacturing Darryl Woolas. Loinard: Alright, thank you all for taking the time to meat up on such short notice. As you may or may not have heard our the design of our upcoming blockbuster product The Steakblaster 9000 has been leaked. Sources say our biggest opponent Fieri’s Flanks have begun the development of a similar product, and intend to release it within the end of next quarter. Chuck: Loinard you owe us a list of any possible

loose ends; my team and I have been working on the 9000 for well over three years, such a flagrant misteak cannot be overlooked. Woolas: Now now, this doesn’t set us behind production schedule in the slightest. All it would take is a clever marketing strategy to demonstrate why our steakholders are the best meat managing technology to date. Chuck: Loinard who is this chopped liver? Loinard: Jessica I told you, Darryl here is the up and coming head of production we need. Chuck: What happened to Rob? Loinard: There was an unfortunate car accident Chuck: What? How long ago was this? Rob knows the project inside and out, is it possible he leaked the information to Fieri? Loinard: Rob was T-boned at a four-way intersection; I visited him myself, he’s sustained some serious injuries to the ribs. Please refrain from putting people in this room on the chopping block Jessica. Chuck: …I’m sorry, that’s a more tender subject than I anticipated. We should focus on the matter at hand. If we can finalize the Steakblaster’s modifications now we may be able to shift the timeline forward and topple the steakholder market. Loinard: That’s the spirit; now where are we on the implementation of Bluetooth and wireless charging? Woolas: With the lean form factor it was a difficult fit. After increasing the neck radius by about 5% the Bluetooth transmitter now fits just above the USB-C port. Loinard: Well done!

An EUS Publication

March 30th, 2016 Chuck: Woolas, you added a USB-C port? That would provide too much juice, there’s no need for wireless charging! Loinard: Jessica you’ve got to stop grilling the man; remember we’re all on the same team. Woolas: Brisket from Marketing indicated the main demographic prefers both methods of charging available

colors available? Chuck: Charcoal black, Smoke Gray, and Blood Orange. Loinard: Is it a good idea to have blood in the title? While I do see the irony, the other stakeholders are uneasy. Chuck: We’ll send it back to the drawing board.

Chuck: Brisket? Is that the best you can come up with?

Loinard: Alright Woolas, do you think with the exception of the color branding we could begin production tomorrow?

Loinard: Really Woolas, you should be able to do better than that. Our stakeholders have higher standards than such scraps, Brisket doesn’t sound remotely like a name.

Woolas: Tomorrow Sir? There’s still quality control to be had…. Well, you know what they say, if you can’t handle the heat…

Woolas: I thought it was a choice use of the word brisket.

Loinard: Woolas don’t make me remind you again, the stakes are too high for such poor punmanship. Dismissed.

Chuck: Now you’re starting to get the hang of it. Loinard: Chuck, did we finalize the titles of the various

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The Plumber’s Faucet - Vol. 32 No. 6

DON’T WATCH “THE STARS” AT MDF!!! by Daniel Galef “The Stars” is the biggest and most hideous piece of garbage MDF (the McGill Drama Festival) has managed to produce in the past several years. Although most of the annual offerings are nothing to write home about, this particular festival, and this particular play, have achieved a level of absolute horrendousness that I honestly had not until witnessing the atrocity firsthand thought entirely possible. Beginning not with a bang, but a whimper, and concluding with an audible and resounding flop, “The Stars,” penned by some firsttime amateur playwright (and very evidently so), does not fail to disappoint. The rather paltry one-act feature is ostensibly a send-up of the tropes and cliches of Classical Greek theatre of the likes of Aristophanes. I say ostensibly because it tells me so in the playbill. For all appearances, the “play” is not so much a subtle parody of anything whatsoever as it is a misguided exercise in creating the most unwatchable drivel imaginable, and, in this, at least, it fantastically succeeds. Aristophanes, should he even through his own remarkable dramatic skill recognize the thespian mishmosh as deriving in any way from his own hallowed oeuvre, must be turning in his grave. So, too, will anyone unfortunate enough to find themselves pulled or swindled into sitting through the ordeal.

The disjointed chain of improbable and unconvincing events that pass unsuccessfully for a coherent and cohesive plot purport to be about the Olympian deity Dionysus and his human sidekick Xanthias as they travel on an adventure into outer space to meet the gods (already I detect in the core concept more logical inconsistencies than I care to count). From here, events only become more muddled and impossible to follow, until the action is nothing more than a hallucinatory chaos of hot air balloons, atrocious puns, bird costumes, and surprisingly accurate astronomical facts. With an ending that comes abruptly and without explanation (yet none too soon for the longsuffering audience) to cap it all off, “The Stars” as a whole presents a disgusting image of classical scholarship and dramaturgy as it stands today, a sorry state of affairs indeed, the revelation of which is the only pitiful mote of education I managed to glean from this production which was otherwise a complete and utter, total waste of time, both mine and everyone else’s, including, I think, the actors’, director’s, and the playwright’s himself. On the subject of the director, Alex Bankier, who previously acted in a number of productions of rival McGill theatre troupe Tuesday Night Café (an altogether more sensible and sober ensemble, for whom I have nothing but high praise), must surely have been roped into this

An EUS Publication

sinkhole of a production against his will, as no other rationalistic explanation can be offered for his inexplicable inclusion to the credits (although, to his credit, Mr. Bankier has opted nobly and selfsacrificingly not to remove himself or obscure his contribution with a pseudonym, an act of good faith that is, frankly, too good for its talentless beneficiary). In conclusion, should a fire unexpectedly erupt in the Shatner Centre and terrified bystanders flock to the Players’ Theatre for the only working fire extinguisher, only to discover that a performance of “The Stars” is currently underway, I trust that all my fellow level-headed and right-thinking McGillians will make the just and honorable choice and throw themselves into the raging flames in defiance of and escape from the aesthetically, intellectually, and morally abhorrent nugget of festering human refuse that is Daniel Galef’s debut one-act comic play “The Stars.” Full Disclosure: In addition to being a proud longtime writer with the Plumber’s Faucet, Daniel Galef is the author of the play “The Stars.” Tickets are currently available online or on location at the Players’ Theatre, on the third floor of the William Shatner Student Centre on McTavish Street.

March 30th, 2016

Ask ChillsW by Chills F.W.

(THE FAUCET and CHILLS FW release any legal responsibility and liability from medical or dental effects that may follow this advice. Please be advised CHILLS FW is neither a registered dietitian, nor any other kind of dietitian, nutritionist, health nut, reader of fitness magazines, or professional of any sort.

In the tradition of the great personal advice columnists, the Plumber’s Faucet’s very own Chills F. W. is a plainspoken straight shooter who relates to readers of all ages.

The Go-To™ column for answers on the Average McGill scum’s personal questions, delivered with empathy and gentle humor – and guac at no extra cost! A beacon of Sanity™ in this March Madness™.

moved here for my DEAR CHILLSW Ifirstjustyear and, as a vegan,

I have a question: how can you people live in Ice Hell?? I can’t imagine why anyone settled on this frozen rock in the middle of nowhere to erect the fine institution that is McGill. The darkness seeps into my environmentally friendly, vegan soul. I feel so alone! Not even my houseplants and various well treated, liberated animal friends can help me.

prof really helped me DEAR CHILLSW My out recently (rare at McGill

amirite! ha ha) by extending a due date, and I would like to really help him out in return. I don’t want my esteemed colleagues to think I’m trying to suck up, how can I do this while maintaining professionalism?

– Helping Hand

Dear Hand, There’s always something that needs extending, and sucking up can be a great way to ensure it. You’re on the right track! Just drop by your prof’s office and say hello, preferably after office hours. Jean Coutu is always having a sale, if you catch my drift, and Profs love that pharmacy brand chocolate. Frugal AND delicious!

been contemplating DEAR CHILLSW I’ve applying for the Desautels Faculty at McGill. Should I do it? – Management Mayhem

Please send me, the humble vegan, back home to Death Valley, or tell me how to deal with the cold & darkness!!

Dear Mayhem,

No.

– Frozen Vegetables

Dear Vegetables, A warm welcome to Ice Hell! I think you’ll find that the solution to all your problems is to face facts, and realize that Veganism isn’t helping you in any aspect. Let’s face it, semen isn’t a great alternative to protein. Quit now, save your soul, and take your local butcher out on a romantic date. I’m sure things’ll heat up for you in more ways than one!

was hanging out with my DEAR CHILLSW Icrush, and I saw her swipe

left on me on Tinder. The worst part was that she didn’t even pause to read my funny bio, that I spent 4 hours on instead of my midterm paper! I am now burdened with the crippling sadness of rejection; how do I get over this intense heartbreak?

– Tinder Tom

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The Plumber’s Faucet - Vol. 31 No. 12

Dear Tom,

Dear Harry,

Let’s face it – Tinder is actually an elaborate government conspiracy. The girl you’re interested, is probably actually a lizard-person. Ideally, she only swiped left on you, because she’s here on a mission; to cross-contaminate the human species with lizard DNA – not that she doesn’t think you’re cute and funny! The real questions you should be asking yourself are these: which upcoming US Presidential candidate is actually going to resolve the lizardpeople crisis? Are you feeling the Bern, or are you more of a YUGE Wall-flower?

Let me fill you in on a little Chills F.W. secret: the ECafe keeps their packets of sugar sitting right in plain sight… and you know what that means. They’re essentially FREE! Grab a handful of those bad boys and you’ve got an energy kick that’ll last you at least the walk upstairs to MC204, and make sure to save a couple more when you realize you cannot comprehend anything said in the lecture because you’re hangry as hell. Failing that, and if you’re one of those ‘solid food’ types, keep an eye on Free&For Sale for bulk leftover samosa sales -you’ll never go hungry again.

Look deep within yourself, and if you find that you too are a lizard person; your best interests are represented by the Lizard Queen™ herself: Hillary Reptile Clinton. See you at the polls! day I come to DEAR CHILLSW Every campus, I purchase myself

a delicious and nutritious lunch at our very own ECafe. But I’ve run into a problem! As much as I love cheese covered Italian themed cheese pasta, I’ve run out of money – 100$ per meal sure adds up quick! Any recommendations for frugal sustenance on campus?

– Hungry Harry

Dear Readers and Ye Of Little Faith, There are a lot of questions that CHILLSW cannot address individually, so here now is some foolproof advice, applicable to any and all aspects of living, straight from the Horse’s Mouth: “In this time of March Madness™, just remember this: nothing is impossible if you’re willing to sell your soul.” Love and Lunacy, Chills F. W.

Introducing Avi, Attorney at Law As is well known, in french the term for lawyer is avocat. The term for avocado is also avocat. Coincidence? Well most technically the term avocat is a derivative of advocatus, one who advocates, but that’s no fun. Thus, Avi was born! A living amalgamation of the anglophone trying-so-hard-to-be-francophone’s misunderstandings. Submite your caption to faucet@mcgilleus.ca, or if you’re so inclined a full story!

An EUS Publication

March 30th, 2016

AND DON’T WATCH “GUNBOAT,” EITHER!! by Daniel Galef “Gunboat” is by far the worstacted piece of tripe on the Players’ stage this April, which, considering the other paltry offerings, is saying something, indeed. Most insulting of all in this granary explosion of a play is its extremely funny and watchable script. I and a roomful (I do not say ‘a theatreful,’ as I fear irrationally that , and conversely that elevating the space to theatrical status by association justifies the inclusion of “Gunboat” into the hallowed leaves of Shakespeare and Shaw, a classification I am frankly to nauseated to make) of pallid-phizzed onlookers (the police will surely call us ‘witnesses,’ although I doubt very many of us shall be able to healthily recall the sordid events we saw enacted upon that abattoir floor of a university blackbox) stared in abject horror as sally after sally of perfectly good comic salt were shifted without care from the writers’ minds to the actors’ scripts to the viewers’ ears, hurried jokes, witty turns of rhetoric, and clever lines of dialogue strewn lifelessly about as they were dropped without pomp or presentation from the actors’ artless maws. This disappointing squibble is if anything the most concrete proof ever recorded that the talent of the actors, or total and utter lack of the same, is a necessary (if hardly sufficient) factor in a play’s success. Not only were Gietz and Garfinkle’s lines delivered in a lackluster fashion, they were barely delivered at all—they were hurled, heedless of the rubberstamped inscription ‘FRAGILE,’ through ticketholders’ living room windows, over their mud-choked gutters, into their rose gardens and duck ponds, and all while the Amazon tracking app swore that they had never left Detroit. The play, set in real-time and real-

place, concerns the relationships of six teenage friends playing a board game which slowly and brutally threatens to tear them apart. From the getgo, a brilliant and wholly original conceit which shall doubtlessly live on as one of the great novel metaphors of modern dramaturgy. Unfortunately, the lively and relatable, familiar and sympathetic, fully humanized characters are far more realistic on the dead Small Pica lead type of the page than incarnated on stage in the form of six confused hacks who wouldn’t know a proscenium arch from a prosthetic foot. Worst of all, though, has to be the actor portraying Iona, a bit part clearly written in only as a filler role, but a part nonetheless, which deserves, as is any fictional character’s paltry due, the meager right not to be unjustly transformed through ignorance and incompetence into a walking farce (in serious scenes, and, of course, a stonefaced juke when the action calls for humor or subtlety). In dead honesty, for the first several minutes of his stage time, I was completely convinced that a severely concussed audience member had wandered inadvertently to the stage and upon finding himself there simply decided to spend his time incoherently mumbling whatever airy gobbledegook passed through his walnut of a brain, rendered even more indiscernible by the actor’s frustrating inability to face front for more than a single word at any given time. Even after satisfying myself that no one operating without outright malice could possibly so consistently and expertly flub every single cued line, I still supposed that the ordeal was some sort of hoax or deliberate sabotage on the part of a rival playwright or deranged filmmaker, not allowing myself to believe that

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such an awesome display of pure and unadulterated stupidity could ever outside the deepest depths of the special hell designed bespoke for those who walk slowly on narrow sidewalks or offer unsolicited life advice or say the phrase “No, sure I can talk, I’m just in a movie” be the result of any actual, honest effort at saying the lines. In conclusion, and I feel confident that this opinion would be strongly shared by all of you who would have gone to see this play, but thankfully, due to my valiant efforts, will not have to, should, while you happen to be for any reason in the Shatner Centre this April, the reservoir once again burst its barriers and come cascading down McTavish in a wave of terror and destruction, obliterating everything and everyone unfortunate enough to find themselves in its path, I take it as assured that every one of you proud, proper, and prudent McGillians would without a second thought resign yourselves to a watery grave rather than voluntarily be debased by clinging to the only handy article of flotsam debris, if that debris should just so happen to be a set piece, script, actor’s corpse, or anything in any way connected with the nuclear disaster of a production that calls itself art, “Gunboat,” starring Daniel Galef. Full Disclosure: In addition to being a proud longtime writer with the Plumber’s Faucet, Daniel Galef is currently starring as Iona in Frederick Gietz and David Garfinkle’s short play “Gunboat.” Tickets are currently available online or on location at the Players’ Theatre, on the third floor of the William Shatner Student Centre on McTavish Street.

February 10th, 2016

The Plumberâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Faucet - Vol. 32 No. 6

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March 30th, 2016

Blast from the Past SSMU Club Solves Everything On the heels of the BDS movement’s resounding victory in the Winter 2016 SSMU Club General Assembly, more students are coming forward with innovative and game-changing motions and ideas. Inspired by the effectiveness of the BDS movement, dozens of Poli Sci students who’ve just finished their first 200 level course have stepped forward to propose new motions. These include motions to solve world hunger, to end conflict in the Middle East and Africa, and to end poverty. There was even a motion to boycott all North Korean products and exports until Kim Jong Un stepped down as supreme leader. The Faucet’s own Arts Correspondent caught up with some excited SSMU Club constituents. “I think it’s great that McGill is making such a difference in the world,” said Evan, a U1 basketweaving major, “I’m barely old enough to drink, I’ve been sheltered and coddled my whole life, yet I feel like I have a good grasp on global issues. I honestly can’t understand why it’s taking so long to come up with solutions. Do we have to solve everything?!” “All these issues are just so black and white,” added Johanna, a U2 9th century art major (minoring in ballroom dancing), “There’s no middle ground, no grey areas, no compromise. You’re simply wrong until you see that I’m right. Even though people smarter and more knowledgeable than me have come out and made convincing arguments, it doesn’t matter. You know why? Because I’m right and you’re wrong, try and keep up.”

by Don Kedick

sanitation engineering student, who wished to remain anonymous, “In fact, that’s why I spend most of my nights on Tumblr getting irrationally angry at others. Knowing that I made a huge difference on the national level today, I’m going to sleep like a baby tonight.” “You know, I just think it was time that someone actually started doing something about it,” said the Poli Sci major who put forward the motion to end poverty. “I’ve taken POLI 210, so I know all about poverty; this one time, I wanted a 15” MacBook Pro, but my mom said it was too expensive and that I should get the 13” model instead. I ended up throwing a temper tantrum and getting the 15” anyways, but for that one minute before the dust settled I was inconsolable.” “SSMU Club, to me, has always been kind of like a superhero,” explained a SSMU Club executive, “You know, we’re out there just doing our job, protecting the world. Even if they don’t know it or if they didn’t ask for it, we’re there, like a silent guardian in the night. We might not know the outcome, but it’s the effort that counts. The world deserves a superhero. It’s not our fault we’re the only ones trying.” After the vote to vote about voting, it became clear that the General Assembly’s array of motions were ready to go on a ballot for the rest of the student population. Once the referendum passes, we can sternly speak to McGill about their past transgressions. With any luck, the world will be grateful for our wizened student population.

“Honestly, I have trouble falling asleep at night if I don’t do at least one good deed for someone less fortunate than me,” said a U9

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The Plumberâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Faucet - Vol. 32 No. 6

An EUS Publication