Vol. 143, No. 3
THE YALE
Oct. 16, 2014
RECORD
the franz rosenzweig lectures Made possible by the Franz Rosenweig Fund
The Stakes of History: On the Use and Abuse of Jewish History for Life presented by
David N. Myers
Professor of Jewish History at UCLA
David N. Myers is a Professor of Jewish History at UCLA, where he serves as Robert N. Burr Chair of the History Department. For ten years, Myers served as Director of the UCLA Center for Jewish Studies. An alumnus of Yale College (1982), Myers undertook graduate studies at Tel-Aviv and Harvard Universities before receiving his Ph.D with distinction in 1991 in Jewish history from Columbia University. He has written widely in the fields of Jewish intellectual and cultural history. His books include Re-inventing the Jewish Past (Oxford, 1995), Resisting History: The Crisis of Historicism in German-Jewish Thought (Princeton, 2003), and Between Jew and Arab: The Lost Voice of Simon Rawidowicz (Brandeis, 2008). Myers has also edited or co-edited seven books.
history as liberation November 11 – 4 pm
history as consolation November 13 – 4 pm
history as witness November 17 – 5 pm
All lectures will take place in the Sterling Memorial Library Lecture Hall 120 High Street • New Haven, CT Sponsored by the Program in Judaic Studies
The Yale Record HEROES AND VILLAINS ISSUE
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Mailbags & Snews
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Editorial................... S. Stern
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Shorts
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Features.................... Staff & Contributors THOUSANDS CHEER AS “BATADULT” BATTLES CRIMINALS IN THE STREETS OF GOTHAM CITY
A. Gertler
MAN IN BAT SUIT FOUND DEAD
S. Gupta
SUPERHEROES STRIKE BACK
C. Rudeen
RURAL HEROES SHUN CITY STRIFE FOR SIMPLE LIFE
G. Ambrose
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THE AMAZINGLY STONED SPIDER-MAN
L. Wang
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HOW TO PLEASE YOUR SUPERHERO
R. Williams
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HULK’S TWITTER
G. Ambrose
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SUPREME COURT JUSTICE LEAGUE
A. Petrillo
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LAIR DECORATING STYLES
R. Lackner
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EVERYONE IN SECTION CONTRIBUTING TO MEANINGFUL DISCOURSE Dear G.I. Joe, Why don’t you do something useful for a change? All of your enemies are pretty lame supervillains. You would do more good by doing something useful like me. I help save people’s intestines and colons. Sincerely, GI Tract Joe Dear students, Hahahahahhaha ahahhahahahhha Fuck y’all. Signed, sealed, delivered, Prospect St. Package Receiving Center
SPEAKER OF THE HOUSE BLOWN OUT AFTER CRAZY HOUSE PARTY
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Shorts
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Mailbags & Snews
Estimada Profesora Gonzalez, Es muy bueno tocar la clase de Espanol... Espanol L... hey, Profesora, how do you say “L3” in Spanish, again? —Andrew
STUDENT FINDS HERSELF DURING SEMESTER ABROAD, CAUSES WORLD-ENDING TIME PARADOX
Dear Trojans, Never look a gift horse in the mouth. —Greeks
Dear Calculus, I thought I was an integral part of your life, but now I can’t differentiate between your conflicting sines. Our interests are diverging, our romance is concaving in, and there is a limit to how much I can take. I need a constant presence in my life. Stop being such an asymptote. Suck it, I’m an English major, puns for the win!
ELBOWS COLLIDE IN LECTURE HALL Dear trombones, You are such talented actors… voicing every parent in every Peanuts episode ever made? Kudos. Sincerely, The rest of the orchestra trying to value your one contribution Dear Oreo, Showoff. —Sandwiches Everywhere
Dear world, Eat my shorts. —Inventor of edible shorts
OSCAR AWARD FOR ‘BEST GROUCH’ PRESENTED TO ELMO
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ROOMMATE PUTS SOCK ON DOOR TO Fine SHOW EVERYONE HOW COOL SOCK IS Indian Cuisine Dear President Obama,
“A treat for the senses.” Will you pass—Hartford a law that says my Courant mommy can’t send my dog Petey “Amid elegance, a variety of Indian dishes.” away to some farm? —New York Times
Fine Indian Cuisine “A Treat for the senses” —Hartford Courant “Amid elegance, a variety of Indian dishes” —New York Times Hours Lunch Monday - Saturday: 11:30 AM - 2:30 PM Sunday: 12:00 PM - 3:00 PM Dinner Sunday - Thursday: 5:00 PM - 10:00 PM Friday - Saturday: 5:00 PM - 10:30 PM
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Hours
—Timmy, age 6
Lunch Monday - Saturday: 11:30 AM - 2:30 PM Dear Timmy, Sunday: 12:00 PM - 3:00 PM
No. I wouldn’t have enough Dinnerin the House. If I Republican votes Sunday - Thursday: 5:00 PM - 10:00 PM tried -toSaturday: sign an 5:00 executive orderPM instead Friday PM - 10:30 I would just be bombarded with more attacks about government Fast, Free Deliveryoverreach. And even if there were a way to get him Every Day Lunch Buffet back, I realistically speaking wouldn’t 148 York Street, have the energy for it. Petey is probably New Haven, CT 06511 203-776-8644 dead anyways. If only I were so lucky. www.zaroka.com —President Obama, who really at this point should probably see a psychiatrist or something
\ ROOMMATE ALSO HAVING SEX
Dear Saks Fifth Avenue, I meant to buy a $2500 Prada bag but instead I accidentally saved the life of an Kenyan orphan. Can I get a refund? Or like at least exchange for a different color? —Stella Dear Fall, WINTER IS COMING. —Game of Thrones Fans and Meteorologists
EXTRA DAY OF READING PERIOD GIVES STUDENTS EXTRA DAY NOT TO TAKE ADVANTAGE OF READING PERIOD
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ITALIAN MAJOR JUST IN IT FOR THE PIZZA Dear concrete cucumber, This was an awful idea. Why did I make you? —A concrete farmer who knows concrete zucchini sells better
BEAN BAG CHAIR FILLED WITH REAL BEANS, IS GROSS
Dear Duck, Duck! —Another duck, who is trying to warn the first duck of a stray boomerang
SCARF SCARFS SCARF IN SAD, WELL-DRESSED CANNIBALISM RITUAL Dear diary, Even though it’s my job, I don’t know how to deliver babies! —Someone having a midwife crisis
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Dear Rust Belt, You aren’t very good at holding up pants. Or our nation’s economy. Disappointedly, A normal belt
ROOMMATES MEETING FOR THE FIRST TIME BOTH SECRETLY THINKING ABOUT WHEN THEY’LL HAVE TIME TO JERK OFF
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Emmy Waldman ‘11
wahahahahaha… That’s how I laugh. And that’s how I’m laughing right now. Because—mwahahaha—I have succeeded in the execution of my evil plan! I have captured the entire editorial staff of The Yale Record. It all started as the staff was brainstorming ideas for the Heroes and Villains issue. While exploring the potential of the word “dastardly” and brainstorming metaphors for the perfect Aryan man that are less subtle than Superman, Recordians started to catch whiffs of a strange smell. “What is that?” asked Aaron. All eyes turned to Mitchell, who was stuffing his face with one of his trademark oniongarlic-goose-liver sandwiches. “Hey guys…don’t look at me!” he managed to blurt out between bites. But then he smelled it too, and he couldn’t even finish his sandwich. All of a sudden he felt…sleepy. Watching this scene from outside the window, I twirled the tips of my pointy mustache, because, you know, evil. I thought back on my brilliant, devious, deliciously evil plan. It all started this one time Scar, Voldemort, Mussolini, and I were all chilling. “Don’t you think it’s been awhile since we’ve done anything evil of note?” asked Voldemort. “Mamma mia, I agree,” piped in Mussolini. “We’ve got to plot something sinister!” All heads nodded. “How about we murder our brothers and proceed to impregnate our sister-wives?” asked Scar. “No, no!” I said. “I’ve got it! We’ll take down the greatest heroes this world has ever known…the members of The Yale Record. And then the sister-wives thing.” After that, it was simple. We braved the treacherous journey that was Metro-North and made our way to 305 Crown Street, deep in the heart of New Haven. We slipped timercontrolled pellets of propofol—sleeping gas—into the Record’s office. Then, it was just a matter of waiting. They arrived, we set off the timer, and the Recordians fell asleep faster than you could say, “You underestimate the power of the Dark Side.” We tiptoed in, evilly, and tied them up. When they awoke, there was nothing our young heroes could do.
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“What…what are you doing?” asked Nick, groggily. “Who are you?” asked Madeline. “What have you done with my sandwich?” asked Mitchell, eyeing Scar with suspicion. Of course, being experienced villains, we had all worn masks. These fools had no idea how brilliant we were. “We are…let’s just say we’re pretty evil,” I said. “And we’ve kidnapped you. And now—with no one to stand in our way—we are going to rid this world of all humor forever.” “Humour,” said Voldemort. “Shut up,” everyone said. “How are you going to do that?” asked Chris. “Simple,” I replied. “Time has done much of the work for us already. Many of the great comedic publications are falling. Punch died years ago, Mad Magazine only publishes a couple times a year, and the Harvard Lampoon is little more than a dorky collection of inside jokes. Fuckers. Even The Onion is flailing—didn’t they just call that Quvenzhané Wallis girl the C-word?” Everyone nodded. “Really, it was only Yale standing in the way of complete humorlessness. What with standup, improve, sketch, and The Record, Yale is a bastion of comedy. But no longer…mwahahaha...” “What do you mean?” Natalie asked. “Well, you’re tied up. We knocked you out with all of our sleeping gas, but we still have lots of laughing gas. We’re going to incapacitate this whole campus, and there’s nothing you can do to stop us!”
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With that, Mussolini pressed a button to trigger laughing gas to go off all over campus. We settled into the surprisingly comfortable and welcoming Record office to wait. We were so confident that we even untied the members of the Record. The gas streamed out and settled across campus and— nothing. Nothing? What in Gary-from-Pokemon’s name was going on? “You miscalculated!” cried Zach, karate-chopping Scar across the mane. “Yale is such a funny place—with so many great humor publications—that everyone laughs all the time,” Sam added, back-handing Voldemort. “Everyone laughs so much, in fact, that we’ve all built up an immunity to laughing gas,” Ethan said, pushing Mussolini out the window. They all surrounded me. Securing my arms, someone yanked my mask off. They all gasped. “Yes, it is I! Drew Gilpin Faust. President of Harvard University and foe of humor everywhere! And I would’ve gotten away with it too, if it weren’t for you meddling kids… and your dumb dog!” “Hey, leave Handsome Dan out of this!” shouted Ben. “You’re going to jail…someone call Ronnell…” And, to add insult to injury, they sat down and finished the Heroes and Villains issue, which was hilarious, as always. —S. Stern Editor-in-Chief
Aaron Gertler ’15 Chairman
Scott Stern ’15 Editor-in-Chief
Natalie Warren ’17 Art Director
Sam Savitz ’17 Business Manager
Chris Rudeen ’17 Copy Editor
Sahil Gupta ’17 Online Editor
Zach Schloss ’15 Publicity Manager
Rachel Lackner ’17 Special Proejcts Director
Daniel Hoogstraten ’17 Design Editor
Nick Goel ’16 Publisher Ian Gonzalez ’16 Managing Editor
Ben Rudeen ’17 Managing Editor
Madeline Kaplan ’17 Managing Editor
Ethan Campbell-Taylor ’16 Staff Director
Ben Garfinkel ’16 Supplementals Editor
Mitchell Nobel, LAW ’16 Legal Counsel
Staff Writers, Artists, & Designers:
Contributing Writers, Artists, & Designers:
Max Goldberg ‘17, Mikayla Harris ‘17, Victoria Kim ‘15, Tom McCoy ‘17, Elizabeth Miles ‘17, Isaac Morrier ‘17, Travis Reginal ‘16, Harrison Schneider ‘17, Lining Wang ‘15, Madeleine Witt ‘15, Sylvia Zhang ‘15, Claire Zhang ‘15
Graham Ambrose ‘18, Brian Beitler ‘18, Dan Friedman ‘18, Sasha Rae-Grant ‘18, Chasan Hall ‘18, Mitchell Harris ‘18, Archie Kinnane ‘18, Joe Kuperschmidt ‘17, John Lancione ‘17, Doo Lee ‘18, Roger Lopez ‘18, Alison Mansfield ‘17, Drew Megerian ‘18, Alexander Ringlein ‘18, Jonathan Rutter ‘18, Justin Shi ‘18, Griffin Smilow ‘18, Woojeong Song ‘18, Teddy Thum ‘18, Erica Wachs ‘18, Luchang Wang ‘17, Sarah Wilkins ‘18, Rachel Williams ‘17, Josh Young ‘18, Alexander Zhang ‘18
Special Thanks to: Our glorious new writers, our waning old writers, Melissa Chiasson, Lincoln Sedlacek, Jordy Greenblatt, and the Lord. Cover: This month’s cover was illustrated by the stupendously talented Meghan Lovell, who put up with our constant refrain of, “Make the dead turtles look more grotesque!” Founded September 11, 1872 • Vol. CXLIII, No. 3, 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. Offer only valid at participating retailers while supplies last. The Yale Record would like to high-five the UOFC for its financial support.
SUPER-YALIE’S POST-GRADUATION PLANS
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t’s taken all of my four years in college, but I have finally realized my true calling: I’m meant to be a superhero, using my incredible powers to patrol the world’s cities from the air, enforcing the laws of justice wherever the arm of the police cannot reach, restoring hope in the goodness of man’s soul, protecting billions of people from the forces of darkness. Of course, I’m going to spend a couple of years as a junior analyst at Goldman first, just to see how it goes. I mean, when you get right down to it, it’s a pretty reasonable decision – why not make some money before I go off to directly save thousands of people from gruesome, preventable deaths? And who knows – if the whole superhero thing just doesn’t work out (the Goldman recruiter tells me the prospects for upward mobility in that industry are currently slim), at least I’ll have this as something I can fall back onto. Also, the work is actually pretty interesting! Sure, it’s hard to compare it to the mental and physical acumen needed to fully understand and defeat a psychopathic , world-conquering villain with an army of minions, but did you know that investment banking actually involves some really interesting math? I mean, most of it is done by standardized software, but in theory it’s kind of complex (it’s a good thing I took MATH 120, let me tell you!). You
also get to schmooze with cool, rich clients! My Goldman interviewer told me about this one time that he closed a deal with a Peruvian guy and they celebrated with real Cuban cigars afterwards. Tons of girls come to their parties, and no one even has to rescue them from dangling precipices first. I bet I could impress a lot of people by using my laser vision (which I’ll eventually, probably, use to save African children from the unimaginable horrors of conscription into the Lord’s Resistance Army) to light my cigars! Everyone who says that people going into finance are “selling their souls” is just being ridiculous and overly idealistic. Most research shows that the finance industry actually has a fairly neutral impact on the world’s net utility. So even if I could be doing the fulfilling work that I’m uniquely qualified for and that will have an indisputably positive effect on humanity, I’m not technically making things worse. Also, sometimes practicality must come before idealism. Even when that ideal is to protect the world from planet-devouring aliens and absurdly large laser beams. And let’s reiterate: I’m only doing this for 3-5 years as a post-college gig. After that, I’m sure I’ll switch out the suit for some colored spandex. What are the chances any easily preventable atrocities will happen anywhere in the world during that time period? —I. Gonzalez
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INNER MONOLOGUE OF A VILLAIN MONOLOGUING
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—B. Rudeen and R. Lackner
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THE JOKER TRIES STAND-UP
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hat’s everyone’s deal with nitrous oxide? Everyone’s cool with it at the dentist’s office, but if you use it on them when they’re walking down the street, they get all weird about it and then start suffocating. I’m just like ‘Ugh, why did I choose a life of crime when I could have been a glamorous, mediocre dentist?’” “That joke plays a lot better in Metropolis.” “185 Batmans walk into a bar, and the bartender says ,‘Hey! We don’t serve Batmans in here!’ And the 185 Batmans say, ‘Looks like it’ll be another lonely Knight.’ That one’s a visual pun, if you read it you’d laugh more.” “185 Batmans walk into a bar, and the bartender says, ‘Hey! We don’t serve Batmans in here!’ And the 185 Batmans say, ‘Come on, I’ve heard such great things about your microBruce!’” “185 Batmans walk into a bar, and the bartender says, ‘Hey! We don’t serve Batmans in here!’ And the 185 Batmans say, ‘My parents are dead.’” “What? No, I’m not doing the bit about the scars. I always do that bit. I’ve gotta keep my material fresh.” “There was so much cinnamon on my bagel! I was like, ‘Whoa, who put all this cinnamon here?’” “Why so serious?” “It’s embarrassing how bad the police are their jobs. I’m literally doing a comedy show right now, and no one’s even tried to arrest me. Get it together guys! With this much corruption and inefficiency, I almost feel bad doing my usual psychopath thing. I ask myself sometimes, ‘Hasn’t Gotham had enough to deal with today?’ Usually I’m like ‘Nah,’ but sometimes I just stay in and watch House of Cards.” —E. Campbell-Taylor
D. Friedman
ere we go. This monologue is starting so well. Old Golden Spleen didn’t know this was coming; I just jumped out at him after he left his super-wife’s funeral and started going off about his so-called “morality” and “heroics.” After this, he’s totally going to change his ways and be my best friend and we can do villain stuff and then just hang out after, catch a movie, eat popcorn, I don’t know, I’ve never had a friend before. That’s why I monologue so much. I think it all started when I was seven, when my dad purposefully hit my new puppy with his Prius while I watched, and then told me Mr. Paws had run away to a farm upstate. I was already super emotional because I had fallen into a vat of radioactive waste the week before. Wait, I’m getting distracted. Monologue. Monologue. Weird word, monologue. So far, so good. Do I sound shrill? I think I’m sounding a little naggy right now. I’ll bet he hates that, especially because his wife just died. I’ll adjust. That’s why I’m so good at monologuing: I’m always open to adaptation. Should I gesticulate now to drive this point home more forcefully? Yeah, I’m going to wave my arms a lot. Wait, that looks weird. Try to salvage it by adjusting the stereospecs. Nice save. Maybe sit backwards on this chair, to show him how cool and relatable I am? Yeah, that’s perfect. Wow, look at him tremble with fear and awe and sexual longing. I’ll throw in a random act of violence here to show my might and hide my insecurity about the fact that when I die no one will remember me. And also the insecurity about my weird hairline. The stereospecs should distract from that, but I live in constant fear that someone will find out and make fun of me, just like Billy Watkins in the third grade. But the joke’s on Billy now, because I ran over him in my Prius. Oh damn, did I just say that out loud? Quick, push a passerby into traffic to deflect attention from your weird hairline. Wait, did I forget to turn off the oven? I remember removing the huckleberry pie from the oven, but I don’t remember turning it off afterward. That could be bad. I’m going to eat that pie so good later, it won’t know what hit it. It was my first time making pie dough from scratch, but it turned out delectably flaky and golden-brown. Anyway, time to wrap it up; it’s time for the awesome, totally not choreographed fight montage. God I miss Mr. Paws so much.
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HEROINE SAVES CITY FROM ADDICTION
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alling the recent arrival of a new superhero, “a gift sent from Afghanistan,” local 17-year-old Chris Brodey confirmed that the city’s teenage population has indeed been saved from a widespread addiction. “Yeah man, we were all so stoned on boredom until this Heroine showed up,” said Brodey, who has overcome his own addiction to boredom. “She’s shown us that, like…we don’t always have to be bored. Heroine’s helped us out…so musshh…” added Brodey as he began to drool. Despite attempts to receive further information about Heroine, an entertained Brodey became unresponsive and declined all further questions as he became transcendently relaxed. When asked whether Heroine does indeed have an “e” at the end of her name, Alton Miller, 16, one of Brodey’s friends, responded: “Yeah, there’s an ‘e’ in there. But she’s not actually ‘E,’ you know? We were all hooked when E came through last year, but now he’s gone.” Described by witnesses as a white and evanescent figure, the news team caught sight of our local, potent Heroine in a decrepit alleyway alongside her sidekick, Shady Needles. When approached by the news team, Heroine vanished into the dumpster behind her and had all questions directed to Needles.
“Are you a fucking narc?” greeted Needles welcomingly. “No? Alright, well watcha want? I’ve got this sick new batch straight outta Nevada. I’m telling you, this is the shit right here.” When questioned about the issues that he and Heroine plan on tackling, Needles responded: “Listen, I don’t talk business with customers; I just sell. Now, are you gonna buy something or what? I’ve got other customers waiting, ya know.” In spite of widespread acceptance and joy, some members of the community admitted that they were not entirely content with Heroine’s euphoria-inducing approach to this tedious epidemic. “While the department appreciates her efforts against this epidemic of monotony, vigilantism is still classified as a crime,” Police Commissioner Sinclair told reporters. “We encourage all citizens to seek alternative methods of treating their boredom and to contact the department immediately if they receive any information regarding her whereabouts or how to get her to me right away. Like now.” When asked about these alternative methods, Sinclair responded: “You could go to the zoo. That’s fun and hip, right?” Met with an uncomfortable silence, Sinclair continued: “Or, you could ask your doctor for OxyContin; you can reach that superhero with a prescription, so I guess that’s legal.” —R. Lopez
S, Rae-Grant
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OPEN LETTER FROM THE POLICE TO SUPERHEROES Dearest Superheroes, First things first, we really want to thank you for your many years of service, and we appreciate the sacrifices you all make to preserve the principles on which this fine nation was founded. We don’t know how familiar you are with political philosophy, but John Locke once famously declared that all men possess the natural rights “to Life, Liberty, and Property,” and we here at HQ hold these natural rights above all else. We are huge Locke fans; Hobbes can suck it. And you guys have been great about saving lives and keeping the bad guys at bay! It’s just—look, remember that last crucial right, the right to property? Basically, WTF. I mean, seriously, who do you think pays for all those police cars you use as boxing mitts or baseball bats? Do you even know what a police car costs? It costs money—a concept you seem to be completely unfamiliar with. In the last year alone you totaled 56 of our patrol cars, 7 vans, 11 SWAT trucks, and a police horse named Freddy. He was such a good horse, too. One of our best field agents. It’s not just vehicles, either. You may think you’re putting on a good show when you fly around the city, landing hard and breaking our freshly paved asphalt or crashing through skyscrapers to get to the scene on time, but someone’s got to pay for all that, too. Certainly some situations may warrant that kind of destruction, but you just don’t understand what those situations are. Just last week, for instance, we received reports that one of you ripped a tree out of the ground to save a cat that was stuck in its branches. That tree was over two hundred years old. George Washington himself planted it, after chopping down the tree that stood there before. And you killed four birds in the process. And three innocent bystanders. Another bystander was injured and has no insurance, so the city is stuck paying his bills. Thanks, Obamacare. The most egregious incident—the one that prompted this letter—happened only three days ago. You may have read about it in the papers: “SUPERHERO DEFEATS VILLAIN, SAVES CITY.” We’re here to inform you all that you, in fact, did neither. The villain in question was what we on the force call “a real motherfucker”—wanted on charges of robbery, arson, conspiracy to commit murder, and a parking violation. The sort of guy you just want to go all Rodney King on. But finally we had him surrounded. We had helicopters, snipers, the police commissioner—the whole nine yards. But then you—yeah, you with the cape—came out of nowhere and decided to beat the criminal half to death (once again destroying police property—see you in heaven, Freddy) before arresting him and flying him to police HQ. And, look, we’re all for the grotesque violence thing, except YOU FORGOT TO READ HIM HIS MIRANDA RIGHTS. Now Dr. Evil McMurder von Death is back on the streets again! C’mon superheroes. We like you—the whole city likes you—but we do have one simple request: Stop fucking up our shit. Sincerely, Cops —T. Thum
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YALE SUPERPOWERS Sexportation — Are you being sexiled? Do you have three essays and eight problem sets due tomorrow? Teleport your roommate and his/her partner right into the waiting arms of your college dean. Douche Mute — Need a section asshole to shut up? Whisper the word “heteronormativity” to stop them right in their tracks. LESS WITTY SUPERHERO/SUPERVILLAIN EXCLAMATIONS (Joker, about the opening of a new building) I’m going to make it an erection Gotham will never forget! (Superman) Hey Lex! I’d like to introduce you to a friend of mine that I call “This Large Metal Bar That I Am About To Hit You With!” (Flash, to the rest of the Justice League) Who could have guessed that racism would turn out to be such a great thing? (Batman) Unfortunately for you, Bane, you underestimated me and the amount of rubber cement I could sniff. (Wolverine) Tissue? I hardly know you! [Chuckles under his breath] ( -man) The joke’s on you! Both of my parents are dead! (Green Lantern) Who cuts your hair? Your butt? [high-fives an uncomfortable-looking Wonder Woman] (Batwoman) Penguin, you should know: Crime never pays! Well, I mean I guess you are going to pay for what you did. And the taxpayers will pay for you to serve your time. I guess crime does pay in some senses, but not in other senses. (Bruce Banner/Hulk) That’s my secret: I’m always hot and bothered. (Aquaman) You really believe this challenge is too great for the power of the ocean? I WILL unclog this toilet. (Thor) Loki will never again underestimate the power of a well-prepared ragù. (Robin) Now, I don’t want to start pointing fingers, but let’s just say I don’t not blame the Jews. —B. Beitler
Gate-bending — Ever struggled to open a gate on campus? Struggle no more! With one flick of the wrist, you can bust through three tons of metal faster than you can say “Wanda Marichal Gentry”! Tomb Raider — Didn’t get tapped for Skull and Bones? Step right in front of the tomb doors and scream “TRADITION” to steal alllllll the secrets of white privilege. Yaledar — One in four, maybe more? With Yaledar, no guessing is needed when vetting out incompatible mating partners. Crimson Crow — Hate Harvard? Express your loathing by uncontrollably yelling “FUCK HARVARD” during lecture. Infinity Swipe — Not hungry? Stock up on expired condoms from Durfee’s with an unlimited number of lunch swipes. Time Turner — Have an a cappella performance, spoken word show, and championship basketball game all on the same night? Split yourself into several smaller, identical versions of yourself and you’ll never miss anything. Tourist Trap — Want tourists to stop taking pictures of your common room? Create a trap door beneath their feet and watch them and their cameras tumble to their doom. Wait… how’d they get in your room in the first place? Harkmute —Trying to study? Hate bells? Not anymore. Mute them with the simple sacrifice of a member of the Guild of Carillonneurs. —A. Zhang
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HE-WHO-MUST-SNOT-BE-NAMED
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h, hello there. I’m Dr. Mendelson. What seems to be the problem? Nancy here tells me you’re having some difficulty with the paperwork. Your name? Yes, just print your name in this space right here. No, I don’t have any ink for your quill (I do hope you’ve had your avian flu vaccine, sir), but we have several flavors of Bic available for your choosing. Please leave your pet snake outside, sir. Quite an interesting name you have there—Scandinavian, is it? I spent a week there with my wife last year for my 47th birthday. Beautiful place. Great seafood. Your last name? I’m sorry, I don’t quite understand you… Do you have a form of ID, then? Excuse me, it says “Tom Riddle” on your driver’s license. Your email address? Sorry, is “mudblood” one word? Alright, so ihatemudbloodslolxd@hotmail.com? Excellent, thanks. Any allergies you haven’t listed previously? Nancy mentioned that you said something about an allergy to hair growth medications? Alright—by the way, if you don’t mind me saying, I wouldn’t worry about it. The bald look totally suits you. Right, shaved, of course. Shaved. My mistake, sir. So, what can I do for you today? Well, I have a catalog right here that displays our entire warehouse selection of top-of-the-line nose prosthetics. Were you thinking of something unobtrusive and reserved or perhaps a more prominent addition to your visage? Something intimidating and ominous, you say? Hm… how about “the Hook”? It’s rather large and bent, but a great way to tell your colleagues and acquaintances
SUPERMAN’S LESSER KNOWN WEAKNESSES Typing in the wrong passcode on his iPhone too many times and locking it for an hour Morally gray areas Dat ass The primal urge to listen to punk rock while burning things The downfall of print media White guilt
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that you mean business. No? Well, take a look at “the Longnostrils.” Provides quite the aptitude for smelling smells. Plus, we’re having a sale! Buy two nostrils, get one free. I’m sorry, sir, but what is a “galleon”? I see. I have one more model to offer you, Mr. de Mort. It’s our establishment’s prized possession, our secret trump card, our rhinoplastic perfection. It’s called… …The Elder Schnoz. That’ll be eight thousand dollars, plus an additional ten thousand for the operation, and three thousand for shipping and handling. Sir? Sir, please keep your pet—SIR? PLEASE CONTROL YOUR PET, SIR. SIR? YOUR HISSING IS SCARING THE OTHER PATIENTS, SIR. SECURITY? SECURITY, PLEASE ESCORT THE— OH MY LORD. EXCUSE ME, THERE’S BEEN A MISTAKE, SIR. I, uh, I read the bill wrong, all of that is what we pay—it’s only one thousand— —I MEAN FREE, SIR, IT’S COMPLETELY FREE ON YOUR END. SHALL WE FREELY ARRANGE A FREE APPOINTMENT FOR YOUR COMPLETELY FREE OPERATION, FREE OF CHARGE? PLEASE STOP POINTING THAT CHOPSTICK AT ME, SIR. Al-alright, have a good day, sir. Looks like we need to get the stains out of the carpeting again this week. Someone needs some anger management classes. And a tanning salon. —J. Shi
Film noir The supreme power of the feminist movement A class in astronomy and the resulting identity crisis Lead underwear A fearsome hand sanitizer addiction When Lois is in the mood but it’s a solar eclipse The flood of emotions associated with the classic song “Kryptonite” by 3 Doors Down Actual kryptonite —A. Ringlein
NEW HAVEN, CONN ECTICU T · THURSDAY, OCT. 16, 2014 · V OL. CXXXIV, NO. 3
· yalerecord.com
Thousands Cheer as “Batadult” Battles Criminals in the Streets of Gotham City BY AARON GERTLER STAFF REPORTER GOTHAM CITY, NY – Dressed in a black Batman costume, his fists clenched as he took on foe after foe around Gotham City, a 34-year-old man who has battled leukemia for years fulfilled his wish to become his favorite superhero this Friday. In the process, Christian Bale became a darling of social media and attracted thousands of fans around the country, including the White House. In a gesture that hearkened back to last November’s “Batkid” celebration in San Francisco (in which 5-year-old Miles Scott battled a brigade of actors disguised as villains), the Make-a-Wish Foundation turned Christian’s fantasies into reality. Batadult was called into service by police commissioner Jim Gordon and spent the day zooming from one “crime scene” to the next. Accompanied by a host of professional actors, he rescued district attorney Harvey Dent from a building full of explosives, captured the Joker after he took a skyscraper hostage, and saved Commissioner Gordon’s
family from a villain called “TwoFace” (who, in a clever twist, turned out to be Harvey Dent wearing a Halloween mask). Christian was able to fulfill his wish through the Make-A-Wish Foundation, the city, and volunteers who stepped forward to help. Batadult had a police escort worthy of a dignitary as he sped around the city on a souped-up black motorcycle. Meanwhile, officers blocked traffic and the Joker’s “henchmen” pretended to fire guns from a nearby garbage truck. The White House even sent out a tweet, encouraging Batadult to “Go get ‘em!” In a video recording, President Barack Obama said, “Way to go, Christian! Thank you for saving Gotham!” The crowds grew after each stop, reaching into the thousands by the time Christian got to the “abandoned warehouse” where Commissioner Gordon’s family was being held. Christian at first seemed overwhelmed by the attention, quietly working through each scenario with clenched fists and tight lips, and ignoring the delirious chants of “Bat! Adult! Bat! Adult!” But by the time he reached City Hall to
Man in Bat Suit Found Dead BY SAHIL GUPTA STAFF REPORTER GOTHAM CITY, NY – With residents reeling from an atomic bomb detonated off the city’s coast, news of the Batman’s death came as a shock. Eyewitness reports had indicated that Batman had jumped from his helicopter to safety before the bomb went off, but yesterday his corpse, cape, cowl, and two unrelated condoms were found washed ashore. Autopsy results confirmed a close-range thermonuclear blast as cause of death, and also confirmed public speculation
that Batman was indeed suffering from advanced throat cancer. As the city confronts the bereavement of its greatest hero, one who could decipher the mumblings of Bane, one who trumped Liam Neeson in a fistfight, and one who confronted his childhood fear of clowns, this newsmagazine would like to share some thoughts of the people of Gotham on the Dark Knight’s passing. The Joker: “Such a shame. At least he died with a smile on my face.” Bob Sanders, medical examiner: “I’ve never seen so much black
CHRISTIAN’S LACK OF A MOTORCYCLE LICENSE DIDN’T STOP HIM FROM SPEEDING AROUND GOTHAM CITY!
receive a key to the city, he was all smiles and bravado. Though he didn’t address the crowd, he raised his first twice and wore a grin as he was gifted with a huge bar of chocolate and a Gotham City Police Department cap. Meanwhile, Gotham City mayor Marion Grange proclaimed July 18th to be “Batadult Day” forever. Christian’s wife, Sibi Blazic, was asked what her husband liked best about Batman. “The cape, I guess,” she said. As Christian wolfed down his
chocolate bar, his wife thanked the crowd, organizers, and the city for showing her husband a good time. “This is closure for us,” Blazic said. “The last few years have been very hard.” Christian, who lives in Los Angeles, California, didn’t know what was in store for him, and thought he was in Gotham City just to take a tour of Batman-related landmarks like the famed Arkham Asylum.
spandex in my life.” Anne Hathaway: “I have.” Allie Peterson, college freshman: “You know, he was like a father figure. He was my role model. Once you go black, you never go back.” Jay Leno: “Is the Batmobile up for auction?” Timmy Finch, 1st grader: “When I grow up, I want my superpower to be money too.” James Gordon, lieutenant: “He was the hero Gotham deserved, but not the one it needed. Because it didn’t need to deserve, that it by necessity needed deserving his help. Not that it didn’t deserve him, but it needed his ability to give us what we deserve. What I’m
trying to say is, I loved him.” Jenny Smithers, local businesswoman: “Some people are born great. Some achieve greatness. And some get it by scaring you shitless. So yeah, he’s probably the only superhero I wouldn’t have a beer with.” Chief Higgins, police officer: “I don’t tolerate vigilante justice.” BenAffleck:“Aboutfuckingtime.” As this paper went to press, reports surfaced that the city’s only industrialist billionaire has gone missing.
Contact AARON GERTLER at join@yalerecord.com
Contact SAHIL GUPTA at join@yalerecord.com
SUPERHEROES STRIKE BACK BY CHRIS RUDEEN STAFF REPORTER BUTTE, MONTANA – Earlier this week, news broke that the superhero community—known for its derring-do and abundance of tights—has decided to go on strike. The rallying cry of their protest: a demand for compensation. “There’s no money in being a superhero,” the Green Lantern complained to everyone within earshot of his large green megaphone. “There’s no paycheck. No tips. How am I supposed to make a living on the gratitude of those I save? Gratitude can’t buy me a bag of tortilla chips.” The recent recession has hit a lot of professions hard, but none more so than the superhero industry. “People think that just because we have super powers we have our lives together,” Aquaman told reporters at a press conference last week. “But we have enemies, too. And not just the ones that mono-
logue and laugh maniacally and build elaborate devices to kill us. Enemies like mortgage payments and electricity bills.” As more citizens turn to petty crime to make ends meet, the work of superheroes has only increased. “And you better believe there’s no overtime,” Aquaman went on to say. “How am I supposed to take care of all the inhabitants of the sea when I work all of the time and don’t even get paid for missing fish holidays? I have missed too many Fishmases. I will not stand—well, tread water— for it any longer!” The strike comes on the heels of more and more superheroes coming forward to talk about their super poverty. “Last month I lost my invisible plane,” Wonder Woman told reporters from outside of her new home, an invisible cardboard box. “I couldn’t make the payments. I even tried selling my bracelets, but it wasn’t enough.” Some heroes are faring worse than others. With both the super-
Rural Heroes Shun City Strife for Simple Life BY GRAHAM AMBROSE STAFF REPORTER RICHARDSON, NEBRASKA – As superhero movies continue to smash box office records across the United States, unsung heroes living in the shadows of the American backwoods have come forward to protest the films’ stereotypical image of big city heroes. “It just isn’t me, the life I want to lead,” said Thomas McDunner, a superhero based in Butler County, Nebraska, whose uncanny ability to sense the relative velocity of moving objects makes him “more or less interesting, I guess” to locals. McDunner, or Relativity Man as he and literally no one else calls him, spends his days driving
across the county highway looking for speeding motor vehicles. “I’m usually pretty fair to these folk. But when someone goes, say, fifteen over, I dash to the nearest pay-phone, enter my loose change, and wait ten-to-fifteen minutes to watch the sweet, sweet car chase of justice.” McDunner sees his work as fundamental to the law and order of the community. Yet he is “no police officer,” he reiterated. “Those guys are total frauds. Any civically-minded young adult with a high school GED or equivalent vocational training can do that. This here’s a gift.” Like most in his community, McDunner prefers the provincial life to the never-ending crimes
hero industry and print media in trouble, Superman is reportedly living in a phone booth. Lois Lane, who has been outspoken in her pleas for help on his and other su-
fellow superheroes, namely those with money. “I can’t help that I have a lot of money,” Batman growled from the marble balcony of Wayne Manor, drinking tea from a gold cup his trusty butler Alfred had just brought to him. “I mean, Last month I lost my inmy parents did die.” visible plane. I couldn’t make The protestors’ demands are simple: “What we want is a superthe payments. I even tried hero minimum wage,” Mr. Fantastic said in a statement to the press. selling my bracelets, but it “This is our day job, and we need compensation.” wasn’t enough. “Some of us are demanding Wonder Woman health insurance, but we know Struggling Superhero that is unreasonable,” said the Thing, who was being shot with a perheroes’ behalf, revealed that she death ray at the time. “But maybe saw him kill a rat with his heat vi- just like a bonus at the end of the sion just so he could eat. “I mean, year, you know? Or even just a gift he’s Superman. The Man of Steel. card to Arby’s. At this point we are I saw him crying into a half empdesperate.” ty can of baked beans yesterday. Something has got to change.” Contact CHRIS RUDEEN at Some of the chagrin of the join@yalerecord.com protesters has been aimed at their
common in the big cities. To keep himself occupied, he organizes weekly group discussions on crime-fighting to “compare notes and stuff” with other area heroes. The group, known as Men of Rural Origins Nationwide, debates the role of heroes in modern society, with an emphasis on how the rural hero can maintain relevance in an era of increasing competition from urban rivals. “I’ve met Superman before,” said Michael Wiggens, or Crop Thumper, whose ability to improve soil quality by as much as sevenpercent in a single yield has made him an important member of Rural Origins for nearly four years. “He’s a fine man, I ain’t pickin’ no fight or nothin’. But when he shows up in Cheyenne County and expects to fix all ‘er here problems, we’re gonna tustle,” Wiggens remarked while icing his freshly blackened eye. When asked about his injury,
he said he received it from “uhh, a fall, yeah, let’s go with that.” Yet Wiggens and the other members of Rural Origins say they would not trade their backcountry lives for anything. “I love it here. Can’t repl’cate it in some Yankee town out east. E’ryone knows crops don’t grow in cities. Right? So, mean, unless they invented u’ way to grow crops inna city, I can’t e’r leave this place.” Some even cling to the belief that their small-town roots will keep them relevant forever. “These people’ll always need us,” McDunner commented. “So long as there’s a trucker speeding to get to a roadside toilet that should have been at the previously-signed exit, I’m gonna do just fine here.”
Contact GRAHAM AMBROSE at join@yalerecord.com
Writing and Design: L. Wang
How to please your
SUPERHERO So you’ve landed a superhero? Congrats. But let’s be honest: he’s got biceps the size of Algeria, a chiseled jaw line, and (obviously) superpowers. We know, we know, you’re thinking: “What do I have?” (Other than a massive shoe collection…) Don’t worry: here are 8 tips to help you KEEP him.
1
Don’t be jealous when he uses his X-Ray vision to check out other women on the street.
Don’t expect him to understand why this behavior is wrong. He’s used to doing whatever the fuck he wants and being thanked by society for it; he will get nervous and possibly violent if he feels like you’re keeping him on a leash, so play it cool.
2
Don’t be mad when he accidentally kills your corgi while playing tugof-war with it.
I mean, part of the reason you like him is for his super-human strength, right? And his reckless, devil-may-care attitude? There are plenty more dogs that need to be adopted from shelters, and it was selfish of you to have a purebred dog anyway.
3
Don’t roll your eyes when he complains that his tights don’t make his package look good.
Tell him his package always looks good, but don’t dismiss his concern: offer to help him shop for tights that better complement it.
4
Don’t dress up as Catwoman for Halloween. Superheroes are like celebrities: they tend to go after their own kind. There’s a decent chance the real Catwoman is that crazy woman who left all the clawmark-shaped scars on his back. Plus you wouldn’t look as good in black spandex as she does.
5
Don’t be mad when he shreds your $900 lace La Perla bustier to pieces. You’re boning a superhero. You don’t get to complain about his total disregard for your possessions. You’re boning a superhero. And yeah, you should probably move the Tiffany lamp off the bedside table.
6
Pay attention to which villain is “That Stupid Son of a Bitch” and which one is “That Goddamn Sack of Shit”.
He may not have time to learn your friends’ names, but that doesn’t mean you’re allowed to mix up his nemeses. Be sure to check out our website for study tools to help you memorize who’s
who (there’s a double pack of purple glittery flashcards for only $9.99).
7
Get the “Where’s My Hero?” App for your smartphone. Apple technology now enables communication between the GPS of your hero’s invisible flying car and the GPS inside your iPhone, allowing you to view the exact location of your Superhero at any given moment. This will help you know when to put dinner on the table (no hero likes a cold pot roast) and what exact moment to cover yourself in whipped cream.
8
Act as helpless as you can.
Superheroes have no use for strong, independent, competent women. (Why do you think he dumped Catwoman?) So make sure to dumb yourself down, frequently objectify yourself, and speak only when spoken to. Remember: it’s all about him.
COSMOPOLITAN ADVICE 19 Writing: R. Williams | Design: W. Song
Writing: G. Ambrose | Design: S. Rae-Grant
The Supreme Court Justice League John Roberts
(aka Batman): Much like Batman, the man at the helm of America’s Justice League doesn’t have any real superpowers, but he utilizes all the resources that a rich white guy has at his disposal. Rumor has it that ol’ Johnny did some serious campaigning for Bush during Bush v. Gore, his most famous scheme, which may have included all or none of the following: purchasing eight Rolex Submariners that were mysteriously left on the bench after opening arguments; a law clerk covertly placing thumb tacks on each justices’ chair; and defacing Al Gore posters with crudely drawn phalli and scattering them throughout the cafeteria. Power move, John. That’s definitely a power move.
Catch Phrase: “Brooks Brothers, assemble!”
Anthony Kennedy
(aka Superman): That’s right. The real power – the super strength, x-ray vision, flight, rock-hard abs – it all sits quietly in unassuming Justice Anthony Kennedy. Consistently the swing vote on cases, Kennedy essentially decides what the highest court in the land has to say on some of the country’s most important legal issues. And he knows it, too. Reports suggest that Justice Scalia washed Kennedy’s car for months prior to the Citizens United decision, and Roberts, Harvard-man that he is, had a strip-o-gram sent to Kennedy’s home every day for a week.
Samuel Alito (aka Martian Womanhunter): Perhaps the second most
insignificant member of the court, Sammy is definitely one of the justices often forgotten on the “Name the Justices” Sporcle quiz. That said, he’s probably a stud. After all, we found out last year that the NSA had tapped his phones….the ladies like bad boys, right?
Catch Phrase: “Guess what I’m wearing under this shapeless robe.”
Antonin Scalia (aka Green Lantern): The Green Lantern received his bizarre
powers from a dying alien, who swore him to fight evil. Likewise, Justice Scalia received his legal education from a dying alien, who swore him to read every text literally. Scalia’s intergalactic duty has actually become a bit of a problem at the courthouse, as his assistant has oft complained of his stubborn refusal to enter the judges’ conference room until someone allows him to, on account of the “RESTRICTED ACCESS” sign on the door that he reads literally every time.
Catch Phrase: “Quid pro quo, Clarice.”
Stephen Breyer (aka Martian Manhunter): Similar to his Martian brethren, Steve has a unique knack for being totally insignificant.
Catch Phrase: “Yet another night spent naked, teary-eyed, and alone.”
Sonia Sotomayor (aka Wonder Woman): Justice Sotomayor’s life story is pretty
impressive. Born into low-income tenement housing in the Bronx, she used her industriousness to propel herself to top schools, jobs, and now ultimately a position to change the fate of the country. That’s pretty wonderful, right? Also, she flies an invisible plane.
Catch Phrase: “I fly an invisible plane.”
Elena Kagan (aka Hawkgirl…yes that’s a real superhero): Justice Kagan’s
life story is pretty impressive. Born into low-income tenement housing in the Bronx, she used her industriousness….wait, that’s not right. Oh, actually, Kagan is quite the opposite: Upper West Side, father’s an attorney, Princeton, Oxford, Harvard, etc. At least we’ve covered all of our bases. She’s probably pretty intense and uptight, right? Hawkgirl it is…
Catch Phrase: “I may be a rookie on the court, but I am by far the most judgmental.”
Catch Phrase: “Didn’t you read the damn sign? What if I’m restricted?”
Clarence Thomas (aka Flash): Want to hear Justice Thomas say something? Want to hear him say it again? Quick, right? Almost as if he didn’t say a word. He’s the only Justice that didn’t get the memo about the “Supreme Court Quiet Game” coming to an end – and there’s no way he’ll talk first. Ideologically attune to the opinions of Justice Scalia, he distinguishes himself with his mute, yet indefatigable, sexual harassment.
Catch Phrase: *Puts finger to lips and stares intently.*
Ruth Ginsburg (aka Batwoman): Justice Ginsburg is Batwoman. She’s like a bat. Except old. Really old. She’s like an old Batwoman. Ok, she’s an old bat.
Catch Phrase: *Croak* Writing: A. Petrillo | Illustrations: D. Lee
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KIRBY IN IRAQ: THE TRAILER We open with a black screen. A powerful voice breaks the silence.
Narrator: You love Kirby. A clip of Kirby in Super Smash Bros. begins to play.
Narrator: You love the Iraq War. A clip of a shrouded woman sobbing. Narrator: Now, see what happens... We cut to a shot of a rubble-strewn Baghdad street. A lone fighter, maybe 17 years old, shell-shocked with an AK-47 in his arms, stands in the center and overlooks the devastation.
Narrator: ...when worlds collide. Kirby floats cheerfully into the frame, puffing up his iconic cheeks.
Fighter (in Arabic, subtitled): What? Kirby plops onto the ground, sucking the soldier inside himself and then giggling. An electric guitar riff kicks in.
Narrator: He can suck up almost anything... Flash-cut to montage of Kirby sucking up another fighter, an IED, a mosque with innocent civilians running from it.
Narrator: ...but can he suck up this mess? Paul Bremer: Kirby, I’ve made the decision to disband the Republican Guard. Kirby (puffing and unpuffing his cheeks, subtitled): You fool! You have undermined the geopolitical and social infrastructure necessary to maintain order. Tens of thousands may die as a result.
A M O D E R N - D AY O D Y S S E Y The hero Brodysseus, swift of chug Returned home from battle with his face all smug. His clever strategy had won the fight, And now he journeyed home to Timothy Dwight. In the line at Toad’s, his friend was “belig” And engaged with a man who was built like a fridge. Brodysseus quickly stepped in to save the day By saying, “Fuck these guys, Toad’s is dumb anyway.” Without even allowing their enemy to reply, Brodysseus and his bros left to get shitfaced at Sig Chi. They drank, then were wading through a cloud of pot fumes, When a young man stopped them and offered them shrooms. Brodysseus’s friends consumed the drugs rapidly And lost track of time as they hallucinated vapidly. With his brothers-in-arms trapped at the frat by those plants, Brodysseus declared himself bored and departed the manse. Soon, as he was passing a gothic stone moat, Pabst-induced bile began to creep up his throat But the only receptacle he found, as he stumbled down the blocks, Was in a first-floor window: a dainty flowerbox. “Who’s there?” asked an indignant voice from inside. “It’s nobody,” the upchucking Brodysseus replied.
Kirby sucks up Bremer and giggles.
Narrator: He can take on almost any power... Soldier 1: We need two people who can fly helicopters, but we only have one! Soldier 2 (disappointed): Now we’ll never level both those apartment buildings! Soldier 1: Not so fast! Kirby approaches the pilot, sucks him up, and spits him out again. The camera pans down to Kirby’s chest, where an aviator’s badge is now pinned.
Narrator: ...but will he have the power to persevere when tragedy strikes? Olivia Munn: Kirby, I love you. Oh no, terrorists! Terrorists kill Olivia Munn. Sad violin music plays.
Narrator: This Christmas, see the film that has something for everyone. All the excitement of war and all the cuteness of your favorite video game character come together to make... Title screen. Narrator: Kirby in Iraq. Cut to President Bush and Cheney in the Oval Office.
Bush: Say Dick, do you think he has what it takes to Kurb this violence? People all across Iraq, including Saddam Hussein hiding in a hole and a young boy lying in a hospital bed, erupt into laughter.
—B. Garfinkel
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From that moment, his night took a turn for the worse. Due to his unwelcome vomit he was beset by a curse. Of the path to his dorm he had lost all knowledge– It would take an eternity to return to his college. The first challenge he encountered was one of temptation (And nearly ended in organ donation). An a capella group’s siren song caught our hero’s ear, And into the path of traffic he did veer. Because no other thought punctured the haze caused by bourbon, He almost ended up on the hood of a Suburban. The next challenge put him in a difficult spot Choosing between interactions both with awkwardness fraught. On the left, an old hook-up, from a bygone drunken night, And an acquaintance from bio class walking on the right. Stuck between two monstrous options, each worse than the next, Our courageous young hero bravely pretended to text. He finally arrived at the courtyard of TD, And decided to hit up his fuckbuddy Penelope.
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During my decade of increasing hairlessness, I spent thousands of galleons trying to fight my baldness with various magical cures. The Sorcerer’s Stone produced an unpleasant crumbly sensation in my scalp. Next I tried dementors, but I found that their hair-raising qualities only work for people with actual hair. Even the Deathly Hallows, which I once believed to have given Albus Dumbledore his glorious head of hair, were really more of a hassle than a miracle cure. Don’t think that consulting a so-called “potions expert” will help you, either. The last one I looked to only knew how to make hair greasier. Let’s just say he won’t be seeing any more clients for a long time. Because I killed him. Finally, it clicked—my balding was a problem of my filthy muggle blood! Clearly, the only way to cure myself was to find a muggle potion. That’s what led me to Rogaine® for Men. Here are my thoughts: THE CONS It came in a metal wand that did not respond to any form of incantation. The foam smells like Hagrid. Side effects included unwanted hair in even my most precious chamber of secrets.
But as he arrived staggering to Penelope’s door, He saw another suitor seated with her on the floor. But when Brodysseus opened his mouth to challenge the suitor, He instead booted all over Penelope’s computer. —S. Savitz .
REVIEW OF ROGAINE® FOR MEN BY HEWHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED
M
y story begins, as most hair loss stories do, in a girls’ bathroom. Many decades ago, after playing around in there with my diary and my pet snake, I noticed that I could see a little bit more forehead in the mirror than usual. But what I initially assumed was just a side effect of blowing shit up turned out to be a trichological catastrophe that literally tore my soul into pieces. My balding head ruined my self-confidence. I felt ashamed and exposed. When I saw that even my Dark Mark had lost its luscious head of hair, I couldn’t take it anymore. I hid in shame for ten long years.
THE PROS Conveniently delivered by owl within two business days. I only had to murder two Rogaine employees to receive a “buy two, get one free” special offer The results were phenomenal. I’ve been mistaken more than once for a middle-aged Edward Cullen. As much as I detest all muggles, they’re right that there’s no magical cure for baldness. With my six month trial complete, I have every intention of continuing my Rogaine usage until I have taken over their world. Still, I would highly recommend this product to all balding witches and wizards, even my sworn enemies. Because when it comes to hair loss, there is no good or evil. There is only Rogaine, and those too weak to seek it. —J. Rutter
24
T he Y ale R ecord
RANDOM ACTS OF FRESHMAN KINDNESS Telling your roommate not wear a lanyard Paying for someone’s first Woad’s Paying someone not to go to Soad’s Giving your TD friend a free tour of Yale’s campus Telling someone their LDub common room is cozy, not small Drunkenly buying a drunk stranger’s first drunk Wenzel Praising Morse and Stiles’ lack of 90 degree angles as “refreshing” Buying tissues for your friend in DS Only taking one free condom at a time—seriously, you don’t use that many —G. Smilow ADVICE FOR REVEALING YOUR SECRET IDENTITY Do reveal your superhero identity when going into surgery. You don’t want your doctors to panic when they see any mutations. Do reveal your superhero identity at a friend’s birthday party. Your friend will appreciate the entertainment (plus it’s way cheaper than hiring a magician). Do reveal your superhero identity on the first day of classes. You’ve got to make new friends somehow. (Also, if you’re at Sky High, it’s part of your participation grade.) Don’t reveal your secret identity when you are going through airport security. Only Batman-level superheroes are allowed to go through the express lane with dangerous toys. Don’t reveal your superhero identity while taking the SAT. The proctor will void your scores for talking/ flying/using x-ray-vision during the math section. Don’t reveal your superhero identity in an environment full of elderly people prone to heart attacks. Especially don’t reveal your secret identity when the elderly people are also supervillains. If necessary, contact Edna Mode at edna.mode@ coolcostumeswithoutcapes.com to help keep your identity secret. —M. Harris
WAYS YOU KNOW YOU’RE THE LOVE INTEREST IN A SUPERHERO MOVIE You’re female You’re white You live in a large, pulsating city but somehow always find yourself in abandoned alleyways in the middle of the night You suffer from a rare condition in which you can’t recognize people if any part of their face is concealed You’re a strong career woman who isn’t afraid to stand up to murderous villains You never actually fight back against these murderous villains You inexplicably always need to be saved from murderous villains You’re really good at dangling from high places and not falling until someone is there to catch you You find yourself in near-death situations on an almost daily basis You inexplicably never die in these near-death situations A lot of your life experiences can be modified with the adverb “inexplicably” You have a thing for guys in tights You’re the perfect size for being carried You have preternatural lung capacity and vocal technique, allowing for screams of “HELP” at the perfect register, decibel, and length for optimal saving You complain to your psychologist that you often feel like a supporting character in your own life Michael Bay was attracted to you in casting —J. Young
REJECTED TRANSFORMER NAMES Mustang Sally Hit-and-Run Big Stick Herbie, Partly Loaded Prius Hybrid The Muffler Amazon Prime
Death Trap Shia LaBeouf Shia LaBuff Shia Pet Road Head —J. Kuperschmidt
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EXCERPTS FROM THE SECRET DIARY OF ALFRED THE BUTLER August 10, 1973 The little Wayne boy fell into well this week and couldn’t pull himself out…what a bitch. February 2, 1998 It is a dark and stormy night, and Master Wayne has returned from his journey through Asia a changed man. He lead me deep within tunnels beneath Wayne Manor and revealed his plans to become a masked vigilante— complete with costume and cape—who spends his nights beating criminals to a pulp on the streets of Gotham. He then asked if I would dutifully serve as his accomplice and sage-like mentor. Even though I was hired to be a regular butler, I was weirdly okay with it. August 9, 2001 Master Wayne stumbled back to the Batcave barely conscious after an encounter with Catwoman—outdone once again by her agile fighting style and prominent cleavage. He winced as I tended to his wounds and sought wisdom on how best to defeat this new adversary. I told him that he must push himself to his limits, and perhaps beyond them… August 12, 2001 Just found out that Michael Caine is playing me in the new Dreamworks movie. WIN. January 21, 2003 Police are at the front door of Wayne Manor. It seems that Master Wayne indulged a little too deeply at the charity gala last night and drop-kicked a heavy-set gentleman that he believed to be The Penguin… We will both need to tread very carefully in the weeks to come. June 30, 2004 Master Wayne is away in Hong Kong on important business. After dinner, I snuck into his private armory and pretended that I was a crime-fighting super butler. Professor Worthington, the Wayne family cat, played the role of sidekick at my behest. November 12, 2006 At three o’clock in the morning, I was awakened by strange sounds coming from the master bedroom. Fearing that Master Wayne was in danger, I quickly grabbed a golf club from the garden and broke down the bedroom door. Inside, I found him handcuffed to the bedpost, with the villainess Poison Ivy gently caressing his backside with a palm frond. The two were completely naked save for Batman’s crime-fighting cape and some strategically placed Ginger Lilies. I retired to the servants’ quarters immediately.
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November 13, 2006 At breakfast the following morning, the mood was tense. I can only hope that Batgirl doesn’t find out about this. Or Harvey Dent’s brother-in-law, though I guess that was a one time thing. April 4, 2008 Master Wayne is still unable to defeat the Joker. Morgan Freeman and I designed a super computer that will let him access the Google search history of every resident in Gotham. He was deeply conflicted about the ethics of such a device…Yet he has no apparent concern for beating the shit out of unarmed detainees in police interrogation rooms. September 9, 2010 Batman was dissatisfied with today’s breakfast. It was the toast that he deserves, but not the one he needs right now. I will do better tomorrow. —N. Goel
OTHER STATES FOR INDIANA JONES California Jones: A perpetually tan Indiana Jones who searches for the Holy Grail in between his beach workouts. He eats a lot and is always pretty mellow…for some reason. Oklahoma Jones: Indiana Jones, but without the fear of snakes. Massachusetts Jones: Indiana Jones, but he can’t drive. Connecticut Jones: Indiana Jones who put down archeology as his intended major but probably will switch to political science. Texas Jones: Indiana Jones who just wants to go off and do his own thing. No one is really stopping him, and everyone kind of wishes he would. Florida Jones: Indiana Jones at age 65. Hawaii Jones: Indiana Jones, but hot. Colorado Jones: He’s a lot like California Jones, but substitutes skiing for beach workouts. As a plus, his mellowness is legal. —S. Wilkins
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FELLOW SUPERVILLAINS: THIS SHOULD BE EASY The
Dearest Super Villains,
1. Superman- The Man of Steel. The Man of Tomorrow. The Man Who Can Be Killed by a Rock. Wait, what was that last one? Yeah, you can kill him with a freaking rock. For some vaguely pseudo-scientific reason, the most powerful being in the world can be brought to his knees if you throw a glowing green geode at him. And you thought geology was for nerds! (It is.) Mind you, it has to be a rock from his home planet, but an inexplicable amount of debris from a world thousands of light years away somehow landed on Earth. Honestly, if you happen to find a glowing green rock, it’s probably kryptonite. Go nuts. 2. Captain America- I mean, he’s got the shield and stuff and I guess he’s kind of strong but you can pretty much just shoot him in the face. It’s not like that shield covers his whole body or anything. 3. Daredevil- Again, just a regular old person. And he’s blind! How have we not put a cap in his ass yet? 4. Batman- He’s a dude! Just a regular dude! Shoot him in his face! With your guns! Jesus, it’s not that hard, guys! 5. Green Arrow- He’s like Batman but less rich, less effective, and less technologically savvy. He uses a weapon that was obsolete during the Hundred Years War. You could kill him with a musket! 6. The Flash. I got nothing. You fight him, you’re kind of fucked. Please share this information with your friends. I honestly don’t know why it’s taken us this long, these guys should really already be dead by now. Sincerely, Lex Luthor —C. Hall
advenTureS of
A. Mansfield
It has come to my attention that a number of our archnemeses have glaring, easily exploited weaknesses. Like super obvious ones that seem too good to be true. It’s almost as if they were somehow created specifically to make it plausible that we pose a threat to them! I have attached a handy guide to these weaknesses and how you can exploit them. It is my hope that we can utilize this information to finally fucking accomplish something.
SeLfie-man!
HOW THE GREAT RECESSION AFFECTED SUPERHEROES AND SUPERVILLIANS Batman traded in the Batmobile for a Honda in the Cash-4-Clunkers program Jeff Bezos bought The Daily Planet; Clark Kent is taking time off from fighting crime to develop Amazon’s new Same Day delivery program The Green Hornet can’t afford good weed Wonder Woman is moonlighting as a dominatrix, rated #1 on the internet for her lasso work That’s not a Spiderman impersonator on Hollywood Boulevard… Captain America believes that those communists might be onto something, actually Ironman is on the lam after “accidentally” chucking a few Occupiers protesting outside his company Thor drinks Natty Light instead of Valhalla Mead Robin got a gig at the Y teaching a class called “How to deal with personal mediocrity” The Justice League killed Aquaman to avoid paying severance packages Lady Gaga is no longer considered a superwoman/ musician Lex Luthor is doing really well, actually—he just bought a new yacht with his bailout money —H. Schneider
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KRYPTONITE A SLAM POEM BY LEX LUTHOR Ever since I met you, I’ve started to see people wearing masks (Joker snaps in agreement.) At first it was uncomfortable, that they always had something to Hide But then I realized It’s because we’re all too afraid to see The truth (Loki shouts “PREACH!”) The first time you beat me I swore I’d let the sting of real loss linger in my mouth for all of about two seconds Before resolving that you’d never get the satisfaction of victory again Do you know how hard it is to smile and smile and still be a villain? (Luthor loses his place as he starts to tear up. General villainous snapping. Dr. Octopus shouts, “Don’t be nice!”) They call me evil because they’ve run out of things to call you And people need labels like you need a lesson (The villains erupt in shouting. Mephisto gets so excited he accidentally self-immolates.) Kryptonite is not the only thing that brings me down Sometimes we’re vulnerable in more ways than just one (Bane snaps solitarily.) In more ways than we ever thought we could be Defeated Because for a man with such big muscles, You’re the weakest person I’ve ever met (General villainous snapping. Catwoman accidentally breaks a claw.) “Super” is a relative term (Syndrome snaps while screaming, “Mmmhmm!”) See, I’ve never been compared to a bird or a plane But you bet I can fly Higher than you ever will Not held down by capes and dreams of being a savior just Being saved from myself Because haven’t you ever heard, Clark, That every little boy needs his hero? —E. Wachs
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OTHER THINGS WALTER WHITE BREAKS (BESIDES BAD) The ice (with a hilarious chemistry joke about an ion who’s positive he just lost an electron) Bread (usually called slicing) Laws Free (Soarin’, flyin’) Walt Jr.’s crutches, as a hilarious prank The fourth wall, in order to explain the deep political chess match he’s playing (scratch that, wrong antihero) More laws Up with Skyler Into tears, when his hero rejects his love (whoops that’s also me) My heart —A. Kinnane LESSER KNOWN VILLAINOUS SCHEMES Global warming – totally still happening, but just really slowly GMOs– killing the entire world, but at a rate which no one cares to acknowledge Making the post office line longer than it needs to be – USPS workers are still the only league of villains to successfully unionize Nickelback CDs – if you talk about how bad they are for long enough, eventually you are going to start to like them. Pure evil. Acne– the little known villain ‘Pizza Face’ has been smearing pepperoni grease on noses and foreheads of adolescents in their sleep for more than 40 years now Switching the men’s and women’s bathroom signs – one of the Joker’s lesser known atrocities Sidewalk cracks – breaking innocent mothers backs is about as villainous as it gets Anthrax – this one kind of just fizzled out, but your parents might have been terrified by it for a little bit PETA – this group of animal lovers is actually a bunch of animal villains wearing human disguises fighting for the subjugation of the human race Unequal pay for women – wait, why has no one done anything about this yet? —J. Lancione
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MAN BRINGS WRONG TWISTER TO BOARD GAME PARTY, EVERYONE DIES FROM TORNADO WOUNDS Dear lady engineer, Do you engineer ladies or are you a lady who engineers? Either way I’m interested. Call me. —Joe Biden wearing three pairs of pants and a technicolor raincoat
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Dear war on terror, I think you made a typo. It should be the war on terrier. Specifically the one who lives upstairs. Thanks for understanding, An angry apartment dweller who loves terror but hates being woken up by loud barking at 3 am when he has work in the morning Dear fancywork, Ooooh!
—Dave
GLOBAL AFFAIRS MAJOR SOLVES ARAB-ISRAELI CONFLICT IN SECTION Dear John, I know that I said I would date you, but that was before the war. I can’t do it any more. Mostly because you are a toilet, but also for other reasons. I hope the war is fun. Lovingly, Samantha
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T he Y ale R ecord Dear Harkness Tower Bells, Your fifteen-minute rendition of “Can You Feel the Love Tonight” is really not helping. —Hungover with a Headache Dear Hungover with a Headache, Ding dong ding dong. —Harkness Tower Bells
S, Rae-Grant
KIM JONG UN STRUGGLES TO FEED POPULACE, FIND SEXUAL INTIMACY To the Yale Community, I write to let you know that a robbery occurred this evening in the area of High and Crown Streets at approximately 10:40 PM. An undergraduate student was walking alone when he was approached by...oh, what’s the point? No one reads this far anyway. Everyone just looks at the location and then laughs about another “Ronnell email.” I can say anything I want here. Dick dick balls dick wang schlong Peter Salovey sucks. Why did my parents name me Ronnell Higgins anyway? No one takes me seriously. It’s a good thing I don’t have to write out my middle name. No one would pay any attention to “Ronnell Agatha Higgins.” Whatever. Better put something that’s not bullshit at the end of this. The Yale Police also provide services and information for victims of crimes, which you may access by calling 203-432-4400. —Ronnell A. Higgins, Chief of Police
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a) Bubble bath! There’s no amount of morality in the world that the soothing scent of gardenia can’t fix. b) Frolic in a field of wildflowers! The simple beauty of nature reminds me why I aim to bring about the destruction of humanity as we know it. c) Knit a cozy for my freeze-ray! If it’s not handmade, I don’t want it on my weapons of chaos and destruction.
a) A pink top, pink tutu, pink ribbon, pink blowtorch for exacting my revenge on unsuspecting townspeople. I’m such a girly girl! b) A flower crown, dip-dyed tank, high-waisted shorts, and a necklace made of the teeth of a hundred schoolchildren. So subversive! c) A super-cute vintage dress with a peter pan collar that I took off a helpless grandmother as I left her in a burning building. I was born in the wrong decade!
a) Super wealthy. I want someone who can afford to support my expensive tastes, and pay for all of the property damage. b) In a band. He plays the guitar the way he plays my heartstrings, and his voice kills me the way I intend to kill the local high school’s basketball team on their way to states. c) A young Marlon Brando. Anyone else will simply fail to live up to my expectations and will likely face my wrath. And my medieval torture chamber.
a) That girl with the knives. b) The human manifestation of the she-devil incarnate. c) Quirky!
If you picked mostly a’s: You are a preppy princess! You love anything sparkly and pink, and you want everyone to know it, so string some twinkly lights around your weapons display and monogram your throwing knives. When your girlfriends come over for your monthly champagne-and-spa day, they’ll be so impressed that they’ll finally shut up about that bitch Karen’s new Greenwich loft.
If you picked mostly b’s: You are boho chic! Check Pinterest for exciting DIYs, like a dream catcher made of your embroidery floss and human hair or a nice tribal-print rug covered in the bloodstains of your enemies! With only a little effort, your bohemian haven will be so convincing that the neighborhood hawks will be doing your bidding in no time.
If you picked mostly c’s: You’re a vintage cutie! Check out your local Salvation Army for quirky crockery and charming tchotchkes (no one has to know your money is going to disaster relief services or to hunger and homelessness relief). Stepping into your lair will be like a blast from the past, followed immediately by a blast from your death ray!
Writing: R. Lackner| Design: D. Hoogstraten
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