The 2014 Graduation Issue

Vol. 142, 142, No. No. 88 Vol.

TH E YALE

May 17, 17, 2014 2014 May

RECORD

—L. Sedlacek

Move to beautiful

DETROIT It could be worse.

Not much, but still.

I mean, at least it's not Cleveland.

T he G raduation I ssue

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101 Whalley Avenue Dear fuckers, This class has gone on for three hours.

Three. Fucking. Hours. And you’re asking questions with two minutes to go?

Why, dammit? You are the worst kinds of people. I hate you so much.

—The professor Dear Enrique Iglesias, You like it? The way I move on the floor?

Well, I would’ve thought you’d be creeped out more than anything, but okay, I guess I can skitter around some more.

—A silverfish

BRITISH WOMAN LOSES TEN POUNDS IN ONE DAY, FINDS IT IN HER WASHING MACHINE Dear person, Why the short face?

—A horse bartender

LINGUIST FINALLY TRANSLATES LYRICS OF TOM PETTY SONG Dear Samantha, Okay, I’m sorry your girlfriend broke up with you, but seriously, it could be worse. My soulmate got separated from me in a horrible flood. Then she lay in a crumpled heap for days before someone found her dirty, bedraggled body and threw her in a dumpster. So suck it up.

—A sock missing its match Dear New York Times, I paid for your online subscription, but I must say that, so far, it’s doing a very poor job of updating me on what time it is in New York. I’m not sure what kind of a scam you’re running here, but I want my money back immediately.

Sincerely, Todd Lewis, BK ’16

Dear microeconomics professor, Why are you so tiny? I can’t even see you!

—Rick Silver, CC ’16 Dear Mr. Silverstein, I very much liked your book, Where the Sidewalk Ends. It was really cool and made me feel really special, because I already totally knew where the sidewalk ends! It ends right behind my house, where that man in the trench coat sells plastic baggies of powdered sugar!

—Katy, age 6 Dear Katy, This is very important. You must never tell anyone about that man. If you do, I will no longer be able to get my “inspiration” to write more poems. Do you understand me? Good.

—Shel Silverstein

WE HAD THE BEST ONE NIGHT STAND EVER, BOASTS LOCAL IKEA

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T he Y ale R ecord Dear Random House, I’m so glad you’ve decided to publish my children’s book, If You Give a Mouse a Cookie! If you’re interested, I’ve also written several sequels, including If You Give a Drug Addict a Fix and If You Give a Shark Its First Taste of Human Blood. Let me know at your earliest convenience.

Sincerely, Laura Numeroff

AMPUTEES THROW THEIR HANDS IN THE AIR LIKE THEY JUST DON’T CARE THAT THEY’RE NOT ATTACHED Dear John, I think when they say a dog is a man’s best friend, they should also say it’s one-sided. Like, a dog is a man’s best friend, but it turns out the man has a DIFFERENT best friend, and the dog is really more like a third wheel in their relationship who will never receive as much love as he gives.

Try caring about me sometime, Patches P.S. Aw, who am I kidding? I still love you, buddy. I always will.

Dear Patches, You’re not even my dog! I have literally never seen you before today. Please stop following me.

—John

TV AD EITHER FOR LINGERIE OR HAMBURGERS Dear phrase “If you can’t beat them, join them,” Okay, but how does this help me?

—A man who lost his egg beater and proceeded to duct tape all his eggs together

UNDERAGE? we’ll sell you

CHAMPAGNE ...or scotch, or rum, or vodka in bright n’ bouncy plastic bottles, you name it - if it’s dirt-cheap and kills brain cells, we’ve got it.

And since we’ve got it, you can get it. We pay off the cops. You’d be amazed at how little money it takes to bribe ‘em. Terrified, in fact.

skeevy’s wines & liquor you know where • New Haven

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JOHN HUGHES’S SIXTEEN CANDLES ORIGINALLY TITLED TWO MENORAHS Dear poetry lady, Roses are red Violets are blue Poems need scansion, Unlike those you create, which reveal a lack of respect for formal considerations.

Yours, Elizabeth Rayo, ES ’13

Dear extra virgin olive oil, Don’t you go judging me. There’s nothing wrong with the way I am.

—Promiscuous olive oil

TALENTED ART MAJOR GETS JOB IN GOLDMAN SACHS FOOD COURT

Dear whore olive oil, Don’t you go judging me. I can’t help it I’m such a bitch.

—Extra virgin olive oil

Dear literary world, I think you may have missed the point: the book is about how dementia ruins lives.

—Cervantes

CHRIST RETURNS TO EARTH, BUT ONLY TO GRAB A PAIR OF SANDALS HE FORGOT

Dear Annapolis, Nice town, but a little mainstream, don’t you think?

Sincerely, Indianapolis

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T he G raduation I ssue

Dear man making my burrito, Guacamole? Not on my watch!

—Someone who wants the guacamole in his burrito, not on his watch

Dear fans of American Pie, Nope. That’s not what happens.

Sorry to disappoint.

—Someone who went to band camp

Dear class, Calc you later, alligators!

Sincerely, Your math TA, who doesn’t have the best grasp of English idioms

EVERY 60 SECONDS, ONE MINUTE PASSES IN AFRICA

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W Sydney Shea’14, Editor-in-Chief Jack Newsham ’14, Chairman Aaron Gertler ’15, Publisher

Becky Marvin ’16, Design Editor Ben Garfinkel ’16, Managing Editor Nick Goel ’16, Managing Editor Scott Stern ’15, Managing & Supplementals Editor Zach Schloss ’15, Staff Director Allie Beizer ’15, Art Director Emily Sandford ’14, Online Editor Ian Gonzalez ’16, Business Manager Claudia Shin ’16, Publicity Manager & Copy Editor Daniel Fraser ’14, Director of Special Projects Ethan Campbell-Taylor ’16, Recruitment Director Mitchell Nobel, LAW ’16, Legal Counsel

ell, Class of 2014. This is it. Well, at least until we become those weird alumni who show up at everything from toasting to impromptu pancake nights (or, if you’re like our Legal Counsel Mitchell Nobel ‘13 LAW ‘16, you just plan on staying at Yale for the next fifty years, give or take).

Since I am (planning on) graduating and leaving Yale behind—provided “C’s get degrees suckas!!!” was actually the answer to all those free response questions on my CR/D exam—creating this Graduation Issue was my last chance to use my powers as Editor-in-Chief to their fullest. So last week, I set off the SOS signals of all the pagers I’ve forced the staff to wear 24/7 since my inauguration and summoned them to the Record office.

Jack arrived first. “What’s up? Are you all right? Is the Herald trying to get revenge on us for all those times you’ve insulted them in your editorials? Wait, no…

ZOMBIEPOCALYPSE???”

He paused to catch his breath, a puzzled look spreading across his face as he looked around our tranquil office. “Uh…” The door opened and the other editorial board members straggled inside in various states of unkemptness. They all looked at me expectantly. I sat in my plushy EIC chair, thinking about how brilliant and funny these people were, how many great laughs we’ve had together playing drinking games and hanging out in increasingly janky locations, and about how they were willing to drop everything and show up when I needed them (though I admittedly may have used the words “CANCELLED MASTER’S TEA-LEVEL CRISIS” on the pagers). I felt my lower lip begin to tremble and I burst into tears.

Everyone rushed to my side, armed with comfort and hugs.

“I’m not… hic… ready… hic… to leave you guys… bwahhh!” I sobbed.

“I left my calculus exam early for this?” said Ian.

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T he G raduation I ssue

Zach elbowed him.

“It’ll be okay, Sydney. We’ll always have the New York Trip,” said Ethan. I cried louder. Zach elbowed me too.

“But… but… we still hafta get the Graduation… hic… issue done.”

“Sydney,” Scott said softly, simultaneously patting me on the shoulder and offering me a candy bar, “Look.”

He moved to the side to let our new design editor Daniel through, holding aloft a bright and shiny InDesign file of this very Graduation Issue, already completed.

And that was the moment I knew that the Record no longer needed me.

But in all seriousness, even though I am (planning on) leaving, I’m always going to consider The Record my home. I know I’m always welcome to crash in the sweltering heat of the office, or to drop by a Monday meeting and casually “borrow” all of the pineapple pizzas. And I have some fantastic memories of the past four years, from my time as a lowly heeler to begging the alumni for InDesign CS5 as Design Editor to being chosen as Lady-in-Chief.

Under my leadership and that of Jack Newsham (Man in Chair) and Aaron Gertler (Moneybags), The Record has undoubtedly had a great year: we’ve loudly professed our love to Charles B. Johnson (what a dreamboat!), sold out of not one but two Game shirts, and we even successfully

Staff Writers, Artists, & Designers: Sahil Gupta ’17, Max Goldberg ’17, Mikayla Harris ’17, Daniel Hoogstraten ’17, Madeline Kaplan ’17, Victoria Kim ’15, Rachel Lackner ’17, Tom McCoy ’17, Isaac Morrier ’17, Ben Rudeen ’17, Chris Rudeen ’17, Sam Savitz ’17, Harrison Schneider ’17, Natalie Warren ’17, Lining Wang ’17, Madeleine Witt ’15,

parodied the nation’s dailiest college daily. Oh yeah—and we’ve continued our long-standing tradition of publishing some of the best and most aesthetically-pleasing magazines on campus, chock-full of humor-jokes.

However, I’m convinced that under the tenure of next year’s editorial board, The Record will climb to even greater heights—I’m talkin’ roof-of-HGS-level heights. I mean, with Scott Stern as Editor-in-Chief, we’re sure to have more candy and exclamation points than we’ve ever seen before. Our new publisher Nick Goel has such a threatening stature that no advertiser would ever dream of breaching their contract. And I mean, Aaron Gertler has always been great at sitting in chairs. Also, getting shit done.

So this is my goodbye: my last editorial in my last issue of The Record. A hearty “hoot, hoot” to all of those who have contributed to the past four years of my life as a Recordian, and to those who I’m sure will add to my future as an Old Owl. And if there’s ever a game of stacks going on in the office, be sure to let me know and I’ll be there in a heartbeat.

I plan on it, anyways.

—S. Shea The Yale Record May 2014

Contributing Writers, Artists, & Designers: Andrew Calder ’13, Jordy Greenblatt ’11, Gabe Greenspan ’14, Alli Hugi ’13, Yoonjoo Lee ’12, John Lancione ’17, Emily Monjaraz ’14

Special Thanks to: Michael Gerber, Gwyneth Tuckett, and sickly-sweet sentimentality Cover: This month’s cover was illustrated by Emily Monjaraz ’14, who will never see her Graduation cap again Founded September 11, 1872 • Vol. CXLII, No. 8, Published in New Haven, CT by The Yale Record, Inc. Box 204732, New Haven, CT 06520 • yalerecord.com/magazine • Subscriptions: $50/year (print) • $10/year (electronic) All contents copyright 2014 The Yale Record, Inc. The Yale Record is a magazine produced by Yale students; Yale University is not responsible for its contents. Any resemblance to characters and events portrayed herein, without satirical intent, is purely coincidental. The Record grudgingly acknowledges your right to correspond: letters should be addressed to: Chairman, The Yale Record, PO Box 204732, New Haven, CT 06520, or chairman@yalerecord.com. The Record is on sale on all the principal news-stands in New Haven, New York, and Boston (Providence can go fuck itself). The Yale Record would like to high-five the UOFC for its financial support.

BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN IS PLAYING MOHEGAN SUN OVER COMMENCEMENT WEEKEND SO WHAT ARE WE ALL STILL DOING HERE? On Sunday, May 18th, crowds of people from across the globe will assemble to hear one of the greatest orators of our time. Families and friends will come together in celebration. Mothers and fathers will weep tears of joy; sons and daughters will remember the day as one that changed their lives forever.

And meanwhile, less than an hour away, twelve hundred Yale undergrads will listen to a boring speech and go to a lame dinner at Caseus or some shit. LIKE IDIOTS. Wake up, class of 2014! Forget this commencement bullshit! BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN AND THE E STREET BAND ARE PLAYING MOHEGAN SUN THIS WEEKEND. Do you think a Yale diploma could possibly compare to a Springsteen show?

Oh, cool idea, I’ll take this piece of paper with my name on it in a pretentious font instead of 3+ hours of LIFECHANGING ROCK AND ROLL. But Emily, you say. I can listen to Bruce Springsteen anytime. Commencement is a once-in-a-lifetime event!

That is the most backwards thought that’s ever been

formulated in the English language. You’ll be able to read John Kerry’s speech on HuffPo or some bullshit probably within the afternoon. You know why?

Because it’s scripted. That’s weak. We’re talking Bruce Springsteen live here. The Boss. He will play literally any song your dumb ass can think to shout at him. You could request “Bright College Years,” and within 30 seconds, the band would burst out with the best musical performance you’ve ever heard in your fucking life.

I don’t recommend that, because it would be a lame fucking suggestion. But the point is that you could. And it would be so good that it would change your life forever.

If you are still on the fence about this decision at all, then you are the dumbest person I’ve ever met in my life. Bruce Springsteen crowdsurfs, motherfuckers. Do you think John Kerry is going to try that shit? Nuh-uh.

That guy wouldn’t make it three feet before everyone collectively lost interest. I have seen grown men trample each other for the chance to help lift Bruce Springsteen above the crowd like the god that he is.

It’s your choice, Yale.

And if anybody could drive me, that’d be awesome, because I actually need a ride. I’ll chip in for gas and stuff.

—E. Sandford

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REASONS SKULL AND BONES DOESN’T HAVE WINDOWS It’s Skull and Bones, not Skull and Bones and Windows All the money would fall out Defense against a Native American attack Nudes of George W. Bush Nudes of George H.W. Bush It’s a slippery slope from windows to female presidents The Great Glass Shortage of 1821 It was a choice between windows and the sex dungeon They couldn’t agree on curtains They heard that windows were invented by a Jew That night when Taft got blackout Fuckin’ Taft, man…

Windows are for peasants Tupac is trapped inside That shit architect To create a false aura of exclusivity and mysteriousness —Staff

SECRETS THEY TELL YOU WHEN YOU GRADUATE You’ve been going to Yale NUS the whole time Tuition was $5,000 for everyone else You’re adopted Your Skull and Bones email went to spam Average penis size is 9 inches She liked you, you should have talked to her The Bass Security guards were just looking for love Everyone else was just as secure as their confidence led you to believe The Yale Shuttle driver didn’t take care Yale tells med schools that Cr means F The magic was in the shoes, not you They kill Handsome Dan and replace him between every public appearance That TA would have We don’t run things, things run we Nathan Hale didn’t say that Service trips are often ineffective Flower lady is The Anti-Yale The Record was full of hot singles and you didn’t join —Staff

−Y. Lee

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USES FOR YOUR SENIOR THESIS AFTER GRADUATION Graduation party confetti Hamster cage liner Toilet paper Turn it into [Title of Your Senior Thesis]: The Musical!

Piñata!

Phone Walden Peer Counseling and read them the whole thing Inflict a painful death of 1000 paper cuts upon that architecture TA you always hated Sell the movie rights Write the much-anticipated sequel that fails to live up to expectations Save it to hit muggers when you’re a grad student walking alone at night in New Haven Prop up a wobbly table Fact-check it

UNFORTUNATE SUPERLATIVES Most Average Moistest “Smallest” Frat Bro Most—Just the Most Deadliest Catch Most “Phlegmboyant” Least Conversational Second-Best All Around Most Likely to Write Thrilling Articles about Other People’s Success Worst —L. Sedlacek

—Staff THINGS I AM GOING TO WEAR UNDER MY GOWN AT GRADUATION —Staff WAYS TO COPE WITH THE ABSENCE OF YALE’S HOOKUP CULTURE Become a bartender at Toad’s Grind up on strangers Hire a prostitute Masturbate—more than usual, I mean Refuse to move out of your frat house Become a prostitute Grind up on stop signs Sneak into Safety Dance every year Work in a department store and fall for a mannequin; she can’t talk, but her eyes say yes Fall in love Become celibate Go to grad school at Quinnipiac University —Z. Schloss

Pimp and Circumstance

—S. Katz

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THE DIARY ENTRY OF AN EP&E MAJOR

October 17, 2014 They told me that I could have it all—I did not need to decide between my undying love of both the Leviathan and utility curves, nor my passions for the categorical imperative and the Electoral College system. As soon as I was accepted into this highly competitive major (indeed, the hardest to get into at Yale), I knew that I was set. All of us EP&E majors would meet thrice a week in the TD dining hall to reminisce about our days in DS, dissect James Joyce’s use of punctuation in Ulysses, and bask in the glow of the admiring (and yes, a little jealous) glances thrown at us from all of the lesser students in the room. Life would be as good as it could be in a world built upon such a perilous state of nature as that which we have inherited.

Wilson on their central campus. Imagine! I deign to apply to Princeton, and they expect me to jump through hoops.

But have no fear: I have emerged unscathed even from the Sisyphean hardships I’ve been made to endure since graduation. Bikram yoga, Martha Stewart, and Meatloaf have all been empowering me to take control of my life and move forward from these humiliating rejections. I went to Yale—I can do anything. Everyone must want me and my “overly broad, unspecific and pretentious” skill set (Stanford’s words, and with that kind of compliment, I was truly confused that they so summarily rejected me).

Anyway, Uncle Madoff has promised me that as soon as his promotion goes through, he’ll get me a great job making copies of important documents for Congressman Ferrance. For now, I’m just going to enjoy dinner. Mom says that it’s macaroni night!

What they did not tell me was that no employer outside of Yale has any idea what the hell EP&E stands for, nor do they appreciate my status as a member of the most exclusive major at Yale. Goldman Sachs told me, via email no less, that “this skill set does not demonstrably meet those needed for the most entry-level position at this firm, or McDonalds” and Morgan Stanley suggested that I “take a couple of 100-level classes in basic business management at a local community college before wasting any more of our time.” TFA informed me that I had not spent enough time teaching English to girls in underdeveloped countries to merit the honor of filling out an application, although if I wanted to build my resume, they were willing to find me a position in a hostile war zone. President Obama told me that I had to hone my Photoshop skills if I wanted to blackmail him into giving me an unpaid summer internship with pictures of me and Vice President Biden in compromising situations.

I was perplexed by the responses I received from these clearly state school “educated” individuals, but luckily I had a silver bullet: I sent my applications to Harvard, Yale, and Stanford grad schools, condescending to waste time applying to Princeton as a safety. My three top choices asked me to explain to them how my pastiche of random classes constituted a major before they would honor my alleged B.A. Princeton said they would accept me, however, on the conditions that I sacrificed a puppy, bought the president’s daughter a unicorn, and donated money to construct a 50-foot tall statue of Woodrow

—A. Hugi

Graduated Cylinders —S. Shea

WHERE YOUR MAJOR I There’s no bigger difference in the world than that between the job you want your major to get you and the job you’ll actually get. So to help disillusion you new college graduates, here’s a handy list of majors, the jobs you want to obtain with them, and where they will actually land you...

PHILOSOPHY Preferred Career: Getting paid big bucks to have deep thoughts about Plato’s Allegory of the Cave.

Actual Career: Getting paid jack squat to have deep thoughts about why employers keep laughing at your resume.

ARCHAEOLOGY Preferred Career: Running around like Indiana Jones, rescuing priceless historical artifacts and fighting Nazis!

Actual Career: Spending weeks at a time poring over nearly identical, nondescript fragments of ancient urns.

PRE-MEDICINE Preferred Career: Saving the lives of countless individuals with intriguingly obscure Houseplotline-worthy diseases.

Actual Career: Going straight from Yale to medical school, where you will be treated to four years without sleep, friends, or respect as a brief reprieve before you begin working 120 hour weeks filling out endless piles of paperwork, because even though robots will have taken over all medical procedures, you’ll still have to record everything on paper.

IS GOING TO GET YOU THEATER STUDIES Preferred Career: Acting as the lead in an award-winning broadway musical, like Cats or Phantom of the Opera, or that one where everyone’s pissed off and swearing and one of the main characters dies of AIDS at the end. What’s that one called again? Oh, yeah: Annie.

Actual Career: Barely scraping by with a part-time job as a high school drama teacher while you volunteer to direct your local church’s Christmas pageant every year, which usually ends with one of the wise men wetting himself.

POLITICAL SCIENCE Preferred Career: Becoming President of the United States, ending poverty and hunger, eliminating the national debt, and finally getting the Middle East to take a chill pill.

Actual Career: If you’re lucky, becoming a representative whom nobody knows or cares about. If you’re unlucky, becoming a representative nobody cares about until they find out about a scandalous love affair. And if you have wealthy, well-connected parents, becoming the President of the United States who will be hated for a variety of sound and constructive reasons, ranging from “things are too expensive” to “Glenn Beck shouted something about you being a papist.”

ENGLISH Preferred Career: Writing New York Times bestsellers about finding true love in the wake of your father’s tragic death.

Actual Career: Living in a box, editing law briefs in exchange for sandwiches.

LINGUISTICS Preferred Career: Working in the FBI, breaking impossible codes and occasionally blowing a case wide open by realizing that the small word written in the margin of a letter between drug lords is Somali for “blackbird.”

Actual Career: Teaching a 2nd grader how to speak without lisping his S’s.

Written and Designed by L. Sedlacek

A GUIDE TO NAME DROPPING

AT

Yale

For those of us living here year round, Yale is just home. But, to the world outside of our gothic walls, Yale holds a certain prestige – the kind of prestige that makes some people resent you immediately. As you go out into the world, people will undoubtedly ask you where you went to college. Never fear! Here is a simple guide to name-dropping Yale without sounding like a total douche:

IF ASKED

Where did you go to school?

First, name your high school. There is a slight possibility people won’t know any better and just assume this is a college they’ve never heard of.

Even if that’s not the case, they now think they’re smarter than you.

IF THEN ASKED

Where did you go to college?

Respond: “In Connecticut.” They may also have gone to Yale and will immediately understand what this means. Yes, this isn’t a fail-safe method. There are lots of colleges in Connecticut, so if the person you’re talking to is asking purely as a formality, you’ll be fine. But, just in case, you should be prepared with a follow-up.

IF THEN ASKED

Which one?

Respond with your residential college. Like responding with your high school, people might just be put off enough to not continue their questioning. But don’t fret if they do.

IF THEN ASKED

Wait, sorry. Is that a college?

Respond: “It’s in New Haven. Right near the Dunkin Doughnuts.” This is geographically ambiguous, since there are so many Dunkin Doughnuts.

By this point, your questioner will probably be placated, as they’ve now asked four questions without receiving a real answer.

IF THEN ASKED

No, honestly. Where the hell did you go?

Scream, “Not Harvard!” and then flap away like a bird.

Writing: G. Greenspan Design: D. Hoogstraten

Dear Mr. Greenblatt, I regret to inform you tha t we have decided to hire for the position as a Chin a different candidate ese-to-English translator for the United Nations i York. I know this probab n New ly comes as a disappoint ment, but based on you application, it should no r t come as a surprise. Afte r closely reading your sam translation exercise, it is ple clear to us that you snu ck a Chinese menu into testing center and, for ea the ch term, wrote down the meal description of the i that sounded the closest tem . We even figured out th

By J. G at it was the menu from Noodle on Canal and M ree Tiger ott.

Design nblatt ’11 ed by We still have your photo S. She on file so please do not tr a building or you may be y a nd enter the incarcerated for a durat ion of up to five years. Y ou have Dear Mr. Greenblatt,

Reject

ion Letter s

Sincerely,

for the position of “astro you to think you could apply led at wh ure y s rel nti t e meant I am no st. I would assume that you exi ot s n oe it d at th ou e y I assur pt that your knight” here at NASA, but onally underqualified), exce cati du d e an lly ica hys e p ar as the television “astronaut” (for which you le Ages and chivalry as well idd e M th to ces en fer s re applications had numerou miniseries “Merlin.” tact us will nst you so any attempt to con gai r a rde Dear Mr. G g o nin rai est a r or d f reeFur nbla the tt,rmore, we have file xtent of be prosecuted to the fullest e David

I am sorry to tell you that Mr. Sp There was no opening ielberg doe s not need posted any the letter fi a new assis w h e re rst. and of cou tant. rse, as his assistant, I read Needless t o say, I did not appre irresponsib ciate being le dickwee referred t d” or “a la you insulte o as “an zy little bit d my Czech ch.” I am p a a n rt d ic A ularly offen ustrian heri spied on m ded that e long eno tage, and greatly dis ugh to beco turbed tha me aware t you of it.

I have con tacted the FBI and if Mr. Spielbe you harass rg yourself me or try to , you will b ecome a ta get in touch rget of a fe with deral invest igation Regards, Dear Mr. Greenblatt,

Timothy A bernathy

Assistant to Steven Spi elberg

I am unable to offer you a position here at Pink Flowers Female Escort Service in Las Vegas. Even if the name of the service was not enough of a tip off, a quick look at our website or brochure would have revealed that we only hire women. Furthermore, as an escort service, we are not particularly looking for people with major intimacy issues and an irrational fear of human contact. In fact, I would venture to say that these are both prohibitive attributes in an escort.

We keep a number of bulky guards and bouncers in the building so it would be a very bad idea for you to come back or we will have Ramón and Buzz take you to the cellar andtape your legs death.

To#the#Person#Who#Can#Give#Me#a#Job:# ## I#write#to#apply#for#a#position#at#your#consulting#firm.#Given#the#fact#that#I#can#write# full#sentences,#use#Microsoft#Word,#and#nod#and#smile#when#you#say#something# stupid,#I’m#sure#I#will#be#just#as#good#at#the#job#as#any#recent#grad.## ## Working#for#The$Lit#has#given#me#valuable#experience#in#writing.#Poetry,#that#is.#I# have#no#idea#how#to#write#business#memos#or#anything#you#might#need,#but#we’ll# just#tackle#that#bridge#when#we#get#there.#As#a#frequent#intramural#water#polo#and# volleyball#player,#I#have#exposed#myself#to#a#variety#of#challenges,#such#as#having# large#balls#chucked#at#my#face.#This#has#also#taught#me#how#to#work#with#a#team,# provided#that#team#is#primarily#concerned#with#floating#on#inner#tubes.# Furthermore,#as#a#member#of#an#a#cappella#group,#I#understand#the#pressures#of# singing#show#tunes#and#getting#drunk,#both#of#which#could#easily#come#in#handy.# Like,#what#if#you#are#giving#a#presentation#and#the#PowerPoint#fails?#I#can#distract# the#audience#with#“Everythin’s#Up#to#Date#in#Kansas#City,”#and#get#everyone#in#such# a#good#mood#that#we’ll#all#just#want#to#forget#about#the#presentation#and#go#party.# And#then#where#will#your#business#deal#be?#Not#technically#failed,#is#where.# ## My#studies,#too,#have#prepared#me#to#pursue#consulting.#In#my#Comedy#in# Performance#class,#I#am#learning#how#to#prevent#a#red#clown#nose#from#slipping#off# my#face.#Ask#yourself:#Would#you#really#want#to#employ#someone#who#couldn’t#keep# a#simple#clown#nose#on?#But#that’s#not#all;#I’m#also#taking#Thinking#About#Gender.# Thus,#I#have#the#ability#to#identify#the#genders#of#people#I#work#with:#male,#female,# everything#in#between,#everything#outside#of#that#spectrum,#and#genders#whose# entire#identities#are#based#on#that#they#have#no#labels.#Okay,#I#guess#I#can’t#actually# identify$peoples’#genders#–#doing#so#would,#in#fact,#be#counter#to#the#mission#of# Thinking#About#Gender#–#but#I#can#think#about#how#they#could$identify#themselves.# Effectively,#I#can#pretend#I#don’t#have#the#ability#to#say#“he”#or#“she”#and#call# everyone#“zie”#instead,#which#would#spice#up#office#chatter.#Furthermore,#I#just# finished#my#thesis#on#the#effects#of#vampire#mythology#on#FifteenthWCentury#Spanish# cuisine,#so#if#any#timeWtraveling#vampires#show#up#at#the#office#and#want#to#drink# your#blood,#I#can#stall#them#by#chatting#about#tapas.## # For#these#reasons,#and#for#the#fact#that#I’m#two#hundred#dollars#short#on#rent,#I# know#working#at#your#company#would#be#both#a#literally#and#figuratively#enriching# experience.#Thank#you#for#your#time,#and#I#look#forward#to#hearing#from#you,# provided#I#don’t#forget#who#you#are,#because#I’m#sending#out,#like,#three#hundred#of# these.# ## Regards,# Ilana#Strauss# #

Hey Seniors!

Unsure of what to expect once you graduate from Yale? Don’t know what those slots in the machines at the laundromat are?

Don’t know how to buy your own alcohol or condoms?

Bulldog Daze is an event designed to bring you back to Earth (the real one, that is) and to teach you how the world outside the Yale Bubble works. Bulldog Daze will be held in Brooklyn. As part of your orientation, transportation will not be provided or paid for.

Take it from recent graduates:

* 2 ' / / %8 $=( ' “Imagine my shock when I learned that Dean’s Excuses were invalid outside of Yale!

In fact, we don’t even have deans! Thanks to Bulldog Daze, I’ve been thoroughly disillusioned with the expectations of work facing me postgraduation.”

- Dan Wilson, CC ‘09 “If it weren’t for Bulldog Daze, I never would’ve figured out how to cook my own food with a stove.”

“Bulldog Daze taught me several important lessons. Did you know that avowed homophobes and racists exist in the real world?”

- Allison Cho, TD ‘07

“Did you know you have to pay for the bus? I did not. Nor did I attend Bulldog Daze.”

- Maria Fitzgerald, DC ‘08

- Geoff Elliot, ES ‘10 How to eat without bursaring - dating - buying insurance - getting tested for STIs - driving a car that is not a Zipcar - fixing your computer without a student tech - being insulted and not complaining about it going to parties with clothes on - using light switches - paying money for world-class entertainment - being friends, but not on Facebook working for eight hours a day - using laundry detergent - buying a bed - meeting conservatives - using shorter words

Bulldog Daze will teach you all this and more, but mind that Bulldog Daze is limited to 500 participants. Your orientation will not include sustainable farming, culturally diverse foods, or bonding with people you just met while hiking through beautiful mountains, so leave the swimsuit and boots at home.

Register by sending an e-mail to bulldog.daze@ yale.edu with your name, college, and phone number, and do so quickly; the deadline will not be extended, and you cannot register late and pay a nominal fee for doing so.

Breakfast is plain bagels, just like at real corporate meetings. No omelets or steel-cut oats.

Seating will consist of cold metal chairs.

18

T he Y ale R ecord

CREATIVE WAYS TO DEAL WITH YOUR STUDENT LOANS Sell your body No, literally sell your body – e.g. appendix, spare kidney, etc.

Forge obituary, mail it to loan servicer with tearstained, handwritten note reading, “I regret to inform you that I have died.”

More student loans!

Body swap with a wealthy businessman, learning about his struggles along the way Become the Flower Lady’s understudy Bitcoin heist!

Take to the sea! As long as you are in international waters, you don’t owe a thing.

Rummage through JE and Davenport’s trash-to-treasure bins, sell what you find Cut down a Yale tree, carve the wood into small bowls and sell them to rich old rubes Sell your Ivy League genetic material Sell your Ivy League Germanic material (for Germanic Studies majors only) Hack your loan servicer (for cum laude CompSci majors only) Pay them using monopoly money, then move your thimble past go Fake mustache

YALE BUCKET LIST Eat an entire pan of magic bars Ride the Peabody Museum’s triceratops Get mistaken for a law student Fill a hole in your residential college’s courtyard with dirt from your rival college Fill a hole in your rival college’s courtyard with landmines and shrapnel Go to section sober Hand in the pages of your senior thesis (in order) Kidnap the entire Harvard football team so that Yale will finally win the Game (7-3) Complete the infamous residential college buttery crawl Lose all of the weight from the infamous residential college buttery crawl Come out as a straight male Eat whatever your belief system forbids you (the Record recommends G-Heav’s famous Cheesy Beef-‘n’Bacon Wenzel with Blood Sauce, cooked over an American flag) Make the front page of the YDN (preferably with a headline including the phrases “honored for,” “esteemed professor,” and “squirrel sodomy”) —Staff

—J. Newsham OTHER THINGS YOUR TUITION COULD HAVE BEEN SPENT ON Feeding the many hungry 10 personal watercrafts A really nice wedding A really crappy wedding in an exotic location 8 slightly more expensive personal watercrafts A lifetime supply of Ring Pops A person to follow you around and rap about your life for four years An Iron Man suit A pencil (with some left over) One unbeatable personal watercraft My tuition —G. Greenspan

“Let me guess, you lived on-campus all four years.”

—Y. Lee

19

T he G raduation I ssue

EMBARRASSING REASONS NOT TO GRADUATE

WHERE SHOULD YOU LIVE AFTER GRADUATION? A GUIDE, BY MAJOR

Sterling says you owe $0.03 in outstanding fees You have a D on your transcript You have thirty-five Fs on your transcript Klingon does not fulfill the language requirement You tragically misunderstood the rules of “Stiles Assassins” You were caught plagiarizing Dean Mary Miller’s signature on your diploma Turns out “Pornographic Film Studies” isn’t a real major Turns out “Film Studies” isn’t a real major You failed to pay for those hookers you bought on your bursar at Durfee’s You woke up the morning of your Kafka final exam only to discover you had turned into a giant beetle Commencement got cancelled for the same reason as Safety Dance—too many people blacked out last year

Political science: D.C.: low salary, high culture, high prices. Congressional district in the middle of nowhere: low salary, low culture, low prices Chemistry: Croatia (everyone forgets that Croatia has chemistry, too) WGSS: Within biking distance of a thrift store and an organic, locally sourced dumpster Art History: Williamsburg Judaic Studies: Israel; failing that, Williamsburg Classics: The Agora isn’t quite as lively nowadays; try North Virginia, home of the strategic consulting firm Computer Science: A lavish, empty home afforded by your signing bonus Global Affairs: The world’s your oyster! So probably D.C. Physics: [classified], where you’ll be working on [classified] English: Cardboard box, preferably with WiFi Architecture: Cardboard box (because you spent all your money on a real Barcelona chair) Film Studies: Cardboard box in the O of the Hollywood sign Germanic Studies: Germany French: France Russian: CIA Listening Post

—Staff

WAYS TO SELL YOUR SOUL WITHOUT GOING INTO FINANCE Deal meth Write infomercials for “Ab-Cruncher” Secure an entry-level position in Uncle Kim Jong’s office Get a taste of the real world by working in a repetitive assembly line, coating cheap Chinese toys with all the lead paint money can—or rather, will inevitably—buy Find work as a Dickensian orphan-starver Go to med school to become a plastic surgeon or pharmacist specializing in performance-enhancing drugs Become a headhunter for either Goldman Sachs or the Niaquin Tribe of the Amazon River Basin Do Teach For America and change the lives of a class of inner-city youths—for the worse Move down to Georgia and get into a fiddle-playing competition with a dapper gentleman named “Lou Siffer” Put your Film Studies degree to use by scripting, directing, and filming Al-Quaeda’s latest terrorist threats Go into consulting —S. Stern

—J. Newsham

Dolphin: “At least it’s not Sea World.”

—I. Strauss

RIMAGE SALON & SPA

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Tuesday & Thursday 9-6 Wednesday & Friday 9-8 Saturday 8:30-4

BOOK YOUR APPOINTMENT TODAY!

203-562-4247 appt.rimage@sbcglobal.net www.rimagesalon.com

Guys: Meet Joe the barber!

Cuts $20 Cut & Hot towel Shave $40

Ladies: Great Cuts, Great Colors

Be classic or a trend setter and save! Cut/Color Glaze $75

Everyone: Manicure/ Pedicure with or without polish $40

We want to be your salon of choice while here in New Haven. 100% satisfaction guaranteed, or your money back.

Student discounts Tuesday through Friday!

21

T he G raduation I ssue

“PROCRASTURBATION” ADDED TO OXFORD ENGLISH DICTIONARY

Dear antiquated gender roles, Seems like everyone’s down on you guys lately. Maybe you should freshen things up. Come up with some new, original stereotypes. Like “Why are men always stapling everything?” or “How come women just can’t eat a carrot without spontaneously combusting?” or “Why are transgender people so innovative in the field of geopositioning technology?”

Sincerely, Just a weird guy, a really weird guy

Dear Pacman, Mmm, yeah! Chase me! Tee-hee! Uhoh, you’ve got me cornered! Oh yeah, now bite me! Naughty! Send me back to the center of the maze, like the bad ghost I am! Don’t worry—I won’t tell Mrs. Pacman!

—Blinky, the horny ghost

Dear Whore Number One, Well I’m sorry! If you want to be addressed differently, you should ask the director of this film to credit you with an actual name! Now come on, take your place for the next scene!

Hardcore pornography doesn’t make itself, you know!

—Bob, the cameraman

Dear fifty-eighth bottle of beer on the wall, Thaaaa novelty beer rack shore wassa nice prezint, but I dunn thing we gun’ finiss the song tuhnight. There’z juss three’v us. And Carl’s chokin’ to dead on hiss own vomit as I say theez words.

Thass too bad. Guhnight.

—Frank

MAN SCREAMS “FIRE!” IN CROWDED THEATER, CROWD SAFELY EVACUATES BEFORE THEATER BURNS TO THE GROUND

Dear Dan Brown, For an author of best-selling thriller novels, you sure have a boring name.

You should do something about that.

Sincerely, Jack Danger Lightning Hotrod Corleone, author of Microsoft Outlook 2007 for Dummies

Dear Matt, Don’t listen to your mom, the Facebook photos of your kegstands are the bombdiggity. If you take them down, the next photos of you streaking won’t make any sense, so keep them all up! I’m proud of you for expressing yourself, and I hope the attention helps you get laid!

Love, Grandma Dear bar crawls, You think you’re being cute, but your name is really offensive to those of us who have no other means of transportation to travel to bars.

Sincerely, Babies Dear yogurt, Like, oh my god, you’re so delicious.

And now I can fit into this red dress!

My life is complete.

—Every woman in every yogurt commercial ever

SOCIALLY AWKWARD MAN CELEBRATES ARRIVAL IN FRIEND ZONE

22 22

T he Y ale R ecord ecoRd Dear Jake and Suzy, Dear Suzy,finally here! Hey, Oh, Jake great,and you’re Oh, great, you’re finally here!

Hey, wanna hear a joke? Okay, so an EP&E wanna hear a joke?

Okay, so an EP&E major and a WGSS major walk into a major and a WGSS major walk into a bar.

Everyone else leaves. bar. Everyone else leaves.

Bye, Bye, Jean Jean

Fine Indian Cuisine

SLOW SLOWNEWS NEWSDAYDAY

“A Treat for the senses” —Hartford Courant

Dear Magic 8-Ball, Dear Magic 8-Ball, Tell me…will I win or lose this game?

Tell me…will I win orMehta, lose this game?

—Nipun SC ’14 —Nipun Mehta, SC ’14

“Amid elegance, a variety of Indian dishes” —New York Times

Dear Nipun, Dear Nipun, Outlook not so good. That’s what Outlook notyousopick good.

That’s happens when up the eight what ball happens when you pick up the eight ball during a fucking game of pool. Geez, during a fucking game of pool.

Geez, why do I even bother trying to play with whywhen do I you’re even bother you high?trying to play with you when you’re high?

—Jake McGraw, SC ’15 —Jake McGraw, SY ’15

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Lost: my dignity. Last seen shortly before Wednesday Night Toad’s.

Lost: my dignity.

Last seen shortly before Wednesday Night Toad’s.

For sale: pictures of your affair

you thought nobody knew about.

Dear Timmy, Dear Timmy, Please stop trying to eat me. I’m not Please me. I’mwho not food; I amstop a trying person.toAeatperson food;you.

I amI’m a person.

A person who loves your grandmother, notloves an you.

I’m your grandmother, not an apple! apple!

Sincerely, Sincerely, Granny Smith Granny Smith

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For sale: pictures of your affair you thought no one knew about.

Lost: parrot. Answers to Chip.

Might be heard saying, “I’m sick of you, you stupid, stupid...oh, God, what have I done?” Bird may be wounded.

DearMarilyn, Marilyn, Dear Some maylike likeitithot, hot,but butsome somelike likeitit Some may cold,okay? okay?And Andsome somelike likeititininthe thepot, pot, cold, nine days old.

Don’t be so particular. nine days old. Don’t be so particular.

—PeasePorridge Porridge —Pease DearMike, Mike, Dear I was totallywrong wrongtotodoubt doubtyou, you,man! man!

I was totally What a view-—this place is awesome!

What a view—this place is awesome! I I mean,check checkthat thatout! out!And Andthose! those!I’ve I’ve mean, neverseen seenany anythis thisclose closebefore! before!Do Doyou you never know if we’re allowed to pet them? know if we’re allowed to pet them?

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MAN IN TRENCHCOAT SMILES CREEPILY AT CHILD, EVERYONE ELSE ON SUBWAY SORT OF OK WITH IT Dear Fort Minor, So, I actually have a PhD in mathematics. I just checked your arithmetic, and “10% luck, 20% skill, 15% concentrated power of will, 5% pleasure, 50% pain, and 100% reason to remember the name” adds up to 200%, not 100%. You must be so embarrassed right now.

Sincerely, Dr. Dre Dear wife, Now that we have placed a gnome in our garden, it is complete. We are an average American couple.

—A husband who is a normal man Dear people of Yale, What are you doing here? This is my house. Leave.

Confusedly, Mory

57 BROADWAY, NEW HAVEN, CT 203-789-2157

57 BROADWAY, NEW HAVEN, CT 203-789-2157

COOL TEACHER SITS BACKWARDS IN CHAIR, INSPIRES INNER-CITY YOUTH

Dear American Red Cross, It has come to my attention that you teach the Heimlich maneuver in all your life-saving courses. In my opinion, it is just as important to teach the Dan maneuver, another life-saving procedure.

To do the Dan maneuver, you pop, lock, and drop it, then moonwalk across the room. I can tell you from personal experience that it has saved the life of the party many times.

You’re welcome, Dan Phillips, BK ’15

SYRIA STILL A THING, APPARENTLY Dear Mother Hubbard, You went to your cupboard to get your dog a bone? Why do you have bones in your cupboard? What kind of creepy-ass operation are you running here?

—The man tied down on Mother Hubbard’s table Dear Dear student student trying trying to to exit exit Bass Bass Library with 20 pounds uncut Library with 20 pounds ofofuncut cocaine, cocaine, No library books?

No library books?

—Bass security guard