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The Black Sheep
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Volume 6, Issue 4 2/1/12 - 2/8/12
Everyday Classroom Anxieties:
A Neurotic Inner Monologue
Samantha Shaughnessy wrote this
PROFESSOR: We have a lot of work to do today, class. Unlike Tuesday, we’re going to dedicate today to discussion and I’d like to see everyone get involved. Let’s get started, shall we? You were assigned to read chapters one through sixteen…. Goddammit. I shouldn’t have gotten fancy. I should have just signed up for a 500-person lecture like I normally do. Now I have to be in this dinky f-ing class where participation is actually required. Okay. I can do this. It won’t be all that bad if I just focus my attention on picking apart everyone sitting around me—silent judgment at its finest. Speaking of which, total snaggletooth at 1 ‘o clock. Ha, I bet she got eaten alive in middle school. PROFESSOR: As I’m sure you’ve all noticed, we see many underlying, controversial themes throughout this narrative…yet, of course, interpretation is subjective. What I want you to do today is look beyond the obvious. Try to really dig in and search for the deeper meanings here. I’d like each of you to parse this text as much as possible. Okay, what the actual fuck is this guy talking about? My god, he’s so beardy. And he has weird lips… kind of like that scientist from Nightmare Before Christmas. Come to think of it, everything about this guy resembles that scientist— the big head, the feeble body...okay, everything except for the beard. That thing is on a whole other level. Man, I feel a headache coming on already… JENNA: I want to point out a quote that really stuck out to me. It’s in the prologue. I know that wasn’t part of the assigned reading, but it’s on page “xi...” Who is this brown-nosing bitch? She knows full well that no one read the prologue. It’s 20 fucking pages. Wait, where is that attendance sheet? Why do I always feel like I’m not going to get it? How hard is it to pass a piece of paper around the rows, people? These dolts are passing the thing around all willy-nilly with no concern for order. This isn’t Denny’s, people. There are rules.
Other stuff
Inside
NICK: When I read this during my freshman year, I was really drawn to the author’s use of rhetoric... I knew I hated this guy the moment he walked in. Look at him. That smug look, his tattooed knuckles, and a mason jar full of quinoa and grilled tofu tucked under his arm...please. Does this pompous cock hear himself? Someone shut him the hell up already. PROFESSOR: Excuse me, in the back corner. Did you hear that clearly? Or does Nick need to repeat himself? Great start. Only thirty minutes have passed and I already got called out for texting. This guy should realize that our generation is programmed to be entertained every second of every hour and, I’m sorry, but he could at least *try* to be a little more amusing. Jesus, I gotta get out of here.
not mute and just has terrible breath all the time. What is that called again? Hali…cosis? Tosis? Either way, I’m screwed if she ever speaks…but if she knows what’s good for her, she’ll keep her rotted mouth trap shut.
PROFESSOR: We’re going to break down into small groups of three. I want you to work together and discuss what you think motivates the protagonist’s actions...
Eliza: ::clears throat:: Um, I think the mirrors play a big role. They’re like, a symbol for his lost identity.
For the love of Christ, just make this end. What have I done to deserve this? If this is God’s way of punishing me for stealing those boxes of Rice Krispies Treats cereal from the cafeteria every week freshman year, fuckin’ sue me for wanting a little snap, crackle, and pop in my life. JASON: The protagonist doesn’t know where he fits in society. He’s trying to identify himself—albeit through his family, oral history, or birthplace. Those seemed to be the most significant archetypes that came into play... Everyone in class has chirped in and said something except for me and that weird mute girl in the corner. Well, maybe she’s
No fucking way did she just participate. I should punch her in the throat. Okay, quick... think of something remotely intelligent to say. Hurry, hurry! Wait, this is so stupid, why am I freaking out? Oh yeah, that’s right, I didn’t read the chapters. Me: One thing that stuck out to me was the juxtaposition of his relationship with his father and the steel mill... Professor: Interesting point. Can someone point out an example of what she means by this? Booya. Bullshit at its best. Now back to what’s important: Facebook? Eh, no new notifications. Twitter? Ugh, over capacity again? Phone? Hm, no texts.Well… fuck it, I’m leaving early.
The election nears, and with it, the stupid things candidates say.
We take on mop-up duty with East Lansing’s custodial finest.
Thankfully, the Puppy (Murder) Bowl didn’t make this list.
see page 5
see page 7
see page 11
Say What, Mr. Presidential Candidate?
A Day in the Life of a Wells Hall Janitor
Other Bowls That Would Be Super