The Scouts Issue by The Yale Record

Vol. 152, No. 3

THE YALE

Dec. 9, 2023

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BURLY MAN REFUSES TO GIGGLE Dear Jehovah’s Witnesses, Is the Bible really true? I thought there was a lot of stuff in there that scientists today don’t agree with. What if the Bible is just a story, like other stories people wrote in ancient times? Sincerely, Charles

HEARTWARMING: WHEN A MAN FROM THE NORTH BROUGHT A HERD OF GOATS INTO TOWN, THESE AUSTRIAN VILLAGERS BANDED TOGETHER TO KILL HIM AND STEAL HIS GOATS Dear Circus Freak,

TODDLER DOESN’T THINK HE’S BEING IRRATIONAL HERE Dear Charles, Albert Einstein died of internal bleeding. Isaac Newton died of heavy metal poisoning. Marie Curie died of bone cancer. Charles Darwin died of heart disease. Jesus died of loving too much. Sincerely, Jehovah’s Witnesses

Why do you look like that? Did you have an accident when you were still growing in your mama? Did you eat the wrong kinds of foods as a baby? Did you get spelled by a witch using magic? Best, Curious Child

EAGLE SCOUT’S TALONS COMING IN NICELY

Dear Curious Child, It’s a costume. I’m wearing a costume. I’m wearing the Philadelphia Eagles official mascot costume for my job. Swoop

DRIVER CONFIDENT MOOSE WILL MOVE Dear Mom, I found a small, transparent, oblong balloon in my dorm entryway today. Must be a gift from the gods! Love, Tina

“YOU’RE SO STUPID! DID YOU EVEN GO TO SCHOOL?” WINS THIRD ARGUMENT IN A ROW

The Yale Record

YALE RECORD The Scouts Issue October 23, 2023

1 | Mailbags and Snews 6 | The Scouts Editorial 8 | Shorts

“HAHA NICE MEETING YOU, TOO!” SAYS PERSON WHO HAS ALREADY LOOKED UP YOUR HOUSE ON ZILLOW Dear Emergency Room Patient, The emergency room is for medical conditions or accidents which urgently require immediate attention. If you do not require immediate attention, please call our non-emergency appointments line to schedule an appointment time.

Best, ER Doctor

BORING! RORSCHACH TEST KEEPS SHOWING ME PICTURES OF MY PARENTS FIGHTING Dear ER Doctor,

WOKE JESUS MADE OF GLUTENFREE FLESH Dear Deep State, Can you hire a receptionist for the doctor’s office? The doctor knows his medicine, I’ll give him that, but he is just so scatterbrained! It would be better to have someone to help him with the bureaucratic side of things. - Janice

“DON’T WORRY BABE, IT’S JUST THE YAGUE,” SAYS MAN LEAKING FROM PENIS Dear Deep State, My friend Rudolph Butler in the ninth grade at Wilson High is a threat to national security and needs to be eliminated.

If somebody doesn’t look at this spot on my penis, I’m going to kill myself. Urgently, ER Patient

DJ KHALED THROWN OUT OF 9/11 MEMORIAL FOR SCREAMING “ANOTHER ONE!” AFTER WATCHING FOOTAGE OF THE SECOND TOWER BEING HIT Dear Deep State, Can we have a new scanner at the library? Right now the scanner isn’t working, and Ms. Briggs is taking practically all afternoon to type in everyone’s books. - Janice

- Janice

A GIRL SCOUT CAN DO ANYTHING! HOW TO PERFORM A DOUBLE MASTECTOMY WITH JUST A SWISS ARMY KNIFE Dear Deep State, Thank you for fixing the state routes before the big game! I can’t imagine what kind of congestion we’d be dealing with otherwise. Best, Janice

BIG STRONG MAN GETS STUCK IN CHINESE FINGER TRAP

The Scouts Issue

ZOO ACTIVIST CLAIMS ANIMALS SOMEHOW INTELLIGENT ENOUGH TO DISLIKE CAPTIVITY BUT NOT INTELLIGENT ENOUGH TO TELL US THAT THEMSELVES Dear Baby Beluga, You are just like any other fish in terms of freedom etc. Please stop puffing yourself up so big. Best, Pilot whales

WANTED: Citizenship in the World Merit Badge

QUOTE AND END-QUOTE IMPLIED BY SILLY VOICE Dear pilot whales, Get the hell out of here. Don’t talk to me. Don’t ever fucking talk to me again. Baby Beluga

MAN MAKES MENTAL GYMNASTICS LOOK BEAUTIFUL, EFFORTLESS

THIN MINTS SLAMMED FOR BODY NEGATIVITY

FOR SALE:

Argentine Passport

— D. Beber-Turkel

The Scouts Issue

QUESTION ACTUALLY TRAP

Dear Troll under bridge, Look, man, I’ve been where you are, I get it. But I need you to put down the club, so I can cross this bridge.

Dear Mister Judge, My Dad is my hero. He helps people, and he’s the smartest guy alive. He would never break the law, and I for sure would never break the law too. One time I even saw my dad help a cop stop a bad guy. When I grow up, I want to be just like him. Sincerely, Donald Jr.

- Man

PROFESSOR SUGGESTS YOU GO READ BIG FUCKING BOOK IF YOU’RE SO GODDAM CURIOUS

Did You Know? There are bugs all over you. There are bugs all over you and you cannot see them.

\ Dear Man,

MARRIAGE SAVED BY BIG GIFT Dear Donald John Trump Jr,

Sure. Yeah. I’m just going to leave it right here, a few feet away from me. Go ahead. Go ahead and cross. - Troll

It’s a yes or no question: Is this your signature on the 2014 valuation of your father’s Mar-a-Lago property? Sincerely, The Prosecution

MAN HITTING YOU WOULD HAVE WON ARGUMENT ANYWAY

Obituary Correction The 2023 Editorial Board would like to apologize for an obituary which appeared in last month’s “Billiard Boys Issue,” where we reported that national champion Benedict Blook had choked to death after accidentally swallowing a cue ball. We have since been informed that he swallowed it intentionally.

BEERS WITH THE BOYS

— E. Upson

The Yale Record

You kids wanna know how I became a Scoutmaster? Gather round the campfire –– this one’s gonna make you shiver. It was winter, 1963. I was as young as the snow on the dirt in the yard and as tall as the grass poking through it. They shot good old Jack Kennedy in the back of the head, and I took it the hardest. It was a long, cold winter. Every day, Pa would wake up, head to the fireplace, and bash two rocks together over and over, but he never could quite get that fire going. I watched him try for months. When he ran out of rocks, he used Ma’s china. When he ran out of china, he used his calloused hands. To this day, the sound of applause sends shivers down my spine. By February, I’d grown bitter; I was only six years old, and I had already surpassed the only two father figures I’d known. I could clap my hands even better than Pa, and when I drove in the Lincoln Continental Presidential Limousine, I never got shot in the head. I needed a strong male role model in my life, so what was there to do? I had no choice but to enlist. I walked four miles through the snow to the rich neighborhood where they had fancy things like plates that weren’t broken and fathers who were warm. In the chaos of the morning school rush, I went undetected as I climbed into a minivan with a Mormon family, disguising myself among their seven children and chiming in every once in a while about fire and the Good Book. At dropoff, I ran up the local school’s steps, found the nearest recruitment officer, and told him I wanted to Be More Sir, Yes Sir, Serve My Country Sir. He handed me a sash and a pocket knife and awarded me the Nationalism Badge. There was no turning back now: I was a Scout, and green was my color. I climbed the ranks quickly. My connection to nature far exceeded that of my peers due to the fact that I slept in a potted plant by the gymnasium, earning me the Gardening, Athletics, and Squatting badges in the first week alone. I earned the Chemistry badge by mixing cough syrup from the nurse’s office with government milk, the Entrepreneurship badge by marketing it to the older kids as hooch, and the Coin Collecting badge by roughing them up when they refused to pay me for a quality product. I even earned the Good Samaritan badge for wheeling around those same kids after their kneecaps were broken by someone who probably had a good reason for doing it. My Scoutmaster said he hadn’t seen a Scout with promise like me since Jenny Freeman (Troop 143), the Scout who tricked a blind Priest into purchasing 10,000 Thin Mints because they feel exactly the same as communion wafers. Everything was looking

The Scouts Issue up for me, but I still had one last hurdle before reaching Eagle Rank: It was time for my first trip to the woods. I kept to myself on the bus, sitting at the back and whittling a stick into a smaller, better stick. When we arrived at our campsite, our Scoutmaster announced that we were going to earn our Fire Making badges –– the last badge I needed to become the soaring Eagle of my dreams. I had never seen fire before, and as each of my fellow Scouts struck a match and lit a flame, I could never get mine to work. I tried for hours, hunching over the kindling, my back breaking from the weight of the numerous badges on my chest. Eventually, days passed. The other Scouts went fishing –– I kept striking matches. The other Scouts told scary stories –– I was already living one. The other Scouts made s’mores on their beautiful, roaring fires –– I banged two rocks together, just in case Pa was really onto something. But the Fire Making badge forever eluded me. I could never make fire, still can’t to this day. I didn’t even make this one right here –– I had to bring it from home. I was a disappointment, and a coward, and a failure. No better than Pa, or Jack Kennedy, or those kids who wouldn’t know good hooch if it fell right into their milk carton. I was distraught. Then, when I was at my lowest, I felt a hand on my shoulder. God, is that you? I asked in the dim light of my peers’ numerous Natasha Weiss ’25 Chair Jacob Mansfield ’25 Online Managing Editor

Leah Burch ’25 Copy Editor

Clio Rose ’23 Old Owl Alexia Buchholz ’23 Old Owl Grace Ellis ’25 Old Owl

––D. Alberts Editor in Chief

Copy Editor

Art Director

Arav Dalwani ’26 Webmaster

Tara Bhat ’25 Online Editor in Chief Lizzie Conklin ’25 Managing Editor

Amelia Herrmann ’26 Lillian Broeksmit ’25

Emmitt Thulin ’25 Social Media Manager

fires. But God had always eluded the Scouts, still resentful that Jenny Freeman (Troop 143) swapped out his son’s flesh for our minty delights. God was not in these woods, but an even greater force found me. It was my Scoutmaster, holding a roasting spit in one hand and a stack of papers in the other. He explained the situation to me, put it plain and simple. My failure was not a unique one. There’s a long history of Scouts who show great promise but are destined for an Eagle-less life in the cold. It wasn’t my fault, he said, just a failure of genetics: I had inherited my father’s inability to make fire. With tears in his eyes, he explained that this was the Scoutmaster’s Curse. No Scoutmaster in the history of the Scouts has ever successfully made fire. I had two options. He said I could take a hero’s exit –– death by campfire –– or I could sign away my rights to the Scouts and lead a troop for the rest of my life. I considered the campfire, really did, but they wouldn’t bury me with my merit badges, and I couldn’t bear to part with them. The training course only took a week, and the benefits are pretty good. What can I say? Those who can’t do, teach.

Dom Alberts ’25 Editor in Chief Nicole Stack ’26 Online Managing Editor

Larry Dunn ’25 Design Editor

Samad Hakani ’26 Staff Director

Joe Wickline ’23 Old Owl Maya Sanghvi ’23 Old Owl

Adriana Golden ’24 Old Owl

Erita Chen ’26 Design Editor

Debbie Lilly ’26 Managing Editor

Dash Beber-Turkel ’26

Design Editor

Alejandro Mayagoitia ’25 Merch Manager Arnav Tawakley ’24 Old Owl

Joe Gustaferro ’24 Old Owl

Josephine Stark ’25 Old Owl

Andrew Cramer ’25 Publisher

Sadie Lee ’26 Managing Editor

Matt Neissen ’26 Business Manager

Jacob Eldred ’24 Old Owl

Emma Madsen ’25 Old Owl

Sophie Spaner ’25 Supplementals Editor Joel Banks ’25 Prank Czar

Benjamin Hollander-Bodie ’24 Old Owl

Joanna Wypasek ’24 Old Owl

Edward Bohannon ’25 Old Owl

Emily Cai ’25 Old Owl Annie Lin ’25 Old Owl

Staff: Patrick Chappel ’23 Alice Mao ’24 Colson Jones ’24 Edwin Perez ’24 Kara Carey ’24 Lily Dorstewitz ’24 Malia Kuo ’24 Simi Olurin ’24 Ari Berke ’25 Audrey Hempel ’25 Betty Kubovy-Weiss ’25 Cormac Thorpe ’25 Chet Hewitt ’25 Evan Calderon ’25 Ezzat Abouleish ’25 Isabel Arroyo ’25 Jacob Kao ’25

Mari Elliott ’25 Maya Melnik ’25 Neil Sachdeva ’25 Rena Howard ’25 Theo Schiminovich ’25 Tyler Schroder ’25 Adham Hussein ’26 Aidan Gibson ’26 AJ Tapia-Wylie ’26 Alejandro Rojas ’26 Alexa Druyanoff ’26 Alexis Ramirez-Hardy ’26 Alice Khomski ’26 Amanda Budejen ’26 Andie Gately ’26 Andrew Lake ’26 Ariel Kirman ’26

Bella Panico ’26 Brennan Columbia-Walsh ’26 Caroline Utterman ’26 Elio Wentzel ’26 Emily Hettinger ’26 Emmet Houghton ’26 Grace Davis ’26 Helen Shanefield ’26 Jimmy Ruskell ’26 Linden Skalak ’26 Mia Cortés Castro ’26 Natasha Khazzam ’26 Owen Curtin ’26 Oz Gitelson ’26 Paola Milbank ’26 Sam Kumar ’26 Sivan Almogy ’26

Thomas Varghese ’26 Toby Salmon ’26 Tristan Hernandez ’26 William Wang ’26 Wolf Boone ’26 Zadie Winthrop ’26 Zoe Halaban ’26 Adam Hagens ’27 Ainslee Garcia ’27 Ami Gillon ’27 Anna Calkins ’27 Anna Feldman ’27 Anna Lehman ’27 Anna Papakirk ’27 Audrey Jiang ’27 Avery Lenihan ’27 Avery Misner ’27

Bipul Soti ’27 Braeden Cullen ’27 Chloe Budakian ’27 Daniel Wang ’27 Devika Kothari ’27 Ellen Windels ’27 Elora Sparnicht ’27 Emma Upson ’27 Gabriella Cohen ’27 Gha Yuan Ng ’27 Gustavo Dominguez ’27 Harper Murray-Nelson ’27 Jaylynn Cortes ’27 Juliette Propp ’27 Katya Agrawal ’27 Lucas Ranfranz ’27 Lucas Santos ’27

Max Watzky ’27 Nava Feder ’27 Rohan Shivakumar ’27 Samhita Kumar ’27 Sofia Morfin ’27 Sui Yu ’27 Terence Harris ’27 Tom Commander ’27 Victoria Mnatsakanyan ’27 Vidhi Bhartiya ’27 Will Sussbauer ’27 Ge Yu

Contributors: Keith Bruce ’25, Nava Minsky-Primus ’26, Elizabeth Shvarts ’26 Special thanks to: Weird little guys who like to tie knots. Front Cover: Sophie Spaner ’25, who releases SoundCloud raps under the stage name “Thin Mint.” Back Cover: Thin Mint ’25, who draws beautiful covers under the stage name “Sophie Spaner.” Founded September 11, 1872 • Vol. CLII, No. 3, Published in New Haven, CT by The Yale Record, Inc. Box 204732, New Haven, CT 06520 • yalerecord.org • Subscriptions: $50/year All contents copyright 2023 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: Chair, The Yale Record, PO Box 204732, New Haven, CT 06520, or chair@yalerecord.org. Offer only valid at participating retailers while supplies last. The Yale Record would like to high-five the UOFC for its financial support.

DISCONTINUED MERIT BADGES

5 CATASTROPHES MY SCOUT SKILLS WOULD HAVE SAVED ME FROM

Underage Voting Repressing Homosexual Desire Psychological Warfare Scoutmaster’s Special Little Secret Speling Badge Discontinuing Sick Burn (awarded posthumously)

Influenza Pandemic of 1918-1919 — Eight years of annual weekend Scout campouts have carefully honed my immune system to survive any foreign pathogens.

— Staff S’MORES ROASTING GIRL SCOUTS

Eruption of Mount Vesuvius — Every Scout knows that when faced with an uncontrolled fire, you just pull out your Easy Use 1 kg Wilderness Fire Extinguisher. No wonder these people couldn’t build Rome in a day. 2010 Deepwater Horizon Oil Spill — A Scout’s waterfront training is no laughing matter. My troop would’ve had this one cleaned up in under an hour, and we wouldn’t have made such a fuss about it either. Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire — Any properly trained Scout knows that you can fashion a durable rope out of nothing but your own hair and teeth. I would have abseiled out of that burning building and — if my cookie sale numbers are an accurate indicator — still met my quota for the day. 9/11 — Last year Troop 4493 got our anti-terrorism badges! No chance I would’ve let that plane get to New York.

— E. Chen

— A. Feldman

The Scouts Issue

TRANSCRIPT: CONFESSING OUR DEEPEST SECRETS AROUND THE CAMPFIRE JUDY: Alright Girl Scouts, that’s enough of the s’mores –– it’s time for a sharing circle! Who wants to go firEMMA: What if I never find love? Like, what if I never find that person, you know? LISA: Yeah, yeah! EMMA: And what if I don’t get a Valentine from Timmy! LISA: Yeah, yeah! EMMA: But then what if I do, and we get married, and at first, the relationship is great, but then I slowly start to resent the fact that he says okey-dokey artichoke-y every time I ask him to fold the laundry or drive the kids to soccer practice, and I have to ask, he never just does it, you know, and then our relationship gets progressively more hostile, and then suddenly, I’m introducing my kids to Dan, the Pilates man? LISA: Yeah, yeah! JUDY: Surely, it’s not all bad! There must be someone out there for each of us. DOLORES: I remember the first time I laid eyes on my Beau. It was the summer of ’69, and Armstrong had just taken one giant leap for mankind. The air was thick as molasses and everyone was getting ready for the big homecoming dance at the town square. Our boys were finally coming home from that war they were fighting. JUDY: Dolores, you’re twelvDOLORES: The bees were a-buzzin’ and the birds were a-singin’ and my mama had taken me out to the textile store on the corner of Peach and Mama’s Beef Brisket to get me all dolled up for the boys comin’ home from that war. EMMA: What war wasDOLORES: My heart was a-poundin’ and I was nervous as a cat in a room full o’ rockers. I was all gussied up with my ruffles and hairpins, and then, I saw my Beau. He had just gotten off the last train home from the war and he was still in his uniform and my, my was he dashin’. LISA: Aw! What did he look like? EMMA: I really don’t think there was a warDOLORES: Well, he was the finest of our boys. I walked up to him all sultry and we just stared at each other for a while. I must admit, I took a little peek under those bandages of his, and I saw his eyes — blue as a chicken with frostbite. And he was steamin’ hot, like my mamma’s brisket straight out of the oven on a Sunday afternoon. JUDY: Wait. Bandages— EMMA: What happened when you locked eyes for the first time? DOLORES: Well, I was grinnin’ like a possum eatin’ a sweet tater! My heart skipped a beat, and his did too. And then

his skipped another, and another, and another. At this point the blood was flowin’ out of him aggressively and with gumption. Kind of like that Thanksgiving turkey my daddy slaughtered in the fall of ’68. Stunned silence JUDY: Dolores, you’re 12. And from Michigan… DOLORES: I loved my Beau like a possum loved a june bug, God bless him. I’ve never felt more alive than in those fleeting moments with him. And deep down inside, I think he felt the same way. But I guess I’ll never know, on account of his dying and such. Girls, life is but a brief patchwork of beautiful people that leave you just as fast as they appear. You can choose to believe in its magic, and let it fill you, like my daddy’s turkey being stuffed with all the fixins in that fall of ‘68. Or, you can end up with Dan the pilates man. JUDY: Wow, that was kinda beautiful, Dolores. DOLORES: Also, I think my mom already told your moms, but she can’t drive us to Scouts this week. —– C. Budakian and V. Mnatsakanyan ATROCITIES I COMMITTED ON A S’MORES HIGH Texted my ex that I still loved her. Performed a two hour Britney Spears-themed dance show for my bunkmates without any music. Texted my ex that Tiffany was just a friend and that the six and a half times we kissed with the passion of a thousand moons meant nothing after she replied “new phone, who dis”. Tried to climb a tree upside down. Tended to my tree-climbing injuries with superglue and an axe. Snuck out of the cabin at 2 a.m. to go to my ex’s house. Pretended I was a pizza delivery guy when her mom saw me hiding in the bushes. Entered my ex’s dimly lit bedroom and kissed her with the passion of at least one million moons. Grew initially sad, then pleasantly surprised by how different my ex seemed, as I caressed her shapely biceps and the light stubble on her chin. Realized I was not kissing my ex, apologized, and googled “am I gay quiz” in the bathroom. Performed a two hour Britney Spears-themed dance show for my ex and her new boyfriend without any music. Ran away with my ex’s new ex-boyfriend, proposed, put a down payment on a cabin in Vermont, then left him at the altar, because everything reminds me of her. —– E. Hettinger

MAD LIBS: A LETTER FROM BOY SCOUT CAMP

CLINICAL TERM FOR RESENTMENT ROOTED IN PARENTAL NEGLECT

— D. Lilly

The Scouts Issue

WHAT I SACRIFICED FOR THE BADGE

DON’T BEAT YOURSELF UP ABOUT IT

My name is Jimmy. I am seven years old. This week, my troop leader is giving me my seventh merit badge. This is the Respect Copyrights Activity Patch. For this badge, I had to learn about the evils of copyright piracy. You don’t know what I sacrificed. You don’t know what it takes to get this badge. You couldn’t even possibly begin to understand. But Scout Law says I’ve gotta be Helpful, Friendly, Courteous, and Kind — so I’ll try to paint a picture. Copyright piracy is BAD. I had to learn that FIRST HAND. Do you know how I did it? I spent TEN months watching FORTY hours of PIRATED movies EVERY week. I visited SOAP2DAY. I visited 123MOVIES.COM. I visited PUTLOCKER.IS. I even visited LIBGEN. My iPad suffered battle WOUNDS. It got VIRUSES. I accidentally saw NAKED women in a POP-UP AD. Remember, I am SEVEN. I watched every single Marvel movie. I watched the Star Wars movies, sequels, prequels, and originals. I watched the Barbie movie twice. Once on my own, alone. Once with my little sister. She didn’t know I had already watched it on my own, alone. This made me feel DISHONEST. I read Discipline and Punish by Foucault on LIBGEN. I watched Succession. Mom said it was not APPROPRIATE for my AGE. I said “FUCK YOU MOM.” But Scout Law says I’ve gotta be Helpful, Friendly, Courteous, and Kind, so I APOLOGIZED to my mom. Do you understand now? Do you see what this badge put me through? My family was torn to shreds. My iPad got Long COVID. Can you even begin to understand? No, you wouldn’t. — T. Bhat

Look, you’re gonna lose a couple campers every trip. The kids get antsy, and they wander off. No matter how hard you try, you’re never going to be able to keep track of them all; it’s an unrealistic expectation for a Scoutmaster. The sooner you accept that, the better. You’re a new Scoutmaster; you don’t know how bad a trip can be. You haven’t had to deal with flooding, crossing the troll’s bridge, or eating Steve’s mystery thermos chili that’s somehow both hot and cold at the same time. You’ve never woken up to a bear outside the tent, told the campers to go back to sleep, then driven away, pretending not to hear their screams and telling yourself you’ll go back for them in the morning… We’re getting off track. My point is, this isn’t a big deal. I remember my third trip as a Scout, back in ’89. There were 14 of us, and only one Scoutmaster. When he made it back with 13.5 of us still in tow, he was awarded the Distinguished Service Merit Badge. Highest success rate of any trip to date. Guy’s a legend over at corporate. But you can’t hold yourself to that standard. How many did you lose again? Only four? That’s pretty good for a first-timer. You should be proud of yourself. As long as you have enough campers to help pack up the tents in the morning, it’s a win in my book. Stop worrying about your job security –– if we fired people for this, we wouldn’t have a staff! Oh, the parents? They won’t kick up a fuss. They signed the waiver! If they didn’t read the fine print, that’s on them.

WHY ONE MUST REGULARLY HOWL AT THE MOON

— S. Lee BATTLE SCARS

To determine if you have exited the voice crack stage of puberty. To prepare for your audition to be the new DreamWorks Boy on the Moon. To create representation in the lunar-howling community disproportionately dominated by werewolves. To empirically determine how the frequency of lunar howling impacts tides, using a structurally sound bathtub as a control experiment. To prove you were right and scientists are wrong. There is no such thing as a vacuum. The moon does in fact howl back. Science is a man-made hoax. A social construct, even. Because how else would you spend your Sunday? Squawking at the sun? Preposterous. — D. Kothari

— E. Windels

The Yale Record

THE EXPANDED SCOUT LAW A Scout is: Kind Trustworthy 7 feet tall A rare fish owner Thrifty Making seven figures (after tax) Helpful Literate Never double texts Celibate Empowered Not hung up on his exes Reverent Selfless A commercial landlord Brave Obedient Boy

SCOUT TROOP 0001 By Colson Jones In 1910, Boy Scout troops were springing up all over the United States. Concerned patriots imported the scouting tradition from England to bolster the unique values of independence, resilience, and patriotism synonymous with America. While for years the identity of the true first troop was clouded in the depths of history, an opened time capsule provides exciting evidence of the first-ever troop. Below we list the innovators who shaped scouting into what it is today.

—L. Santos

SCOUT HIERARCHY

— A. Herrmann

Willie Bolton — Willie Bolton holds the record for most merit badges captured to this day. This is in large part due to severe memory loss from lead poisoning. He was unable to remember the badges he had already completed. This led to him capturing 254 merit badges in a 7-year stint in Troop 0001, though nearly all were the Metalwork Badge. Albert Rich — When not scouting, Albert was just one of many children exploited into child labor. Our comrade used the leadership and public speaking skills he polished in the Scouts to create a children’s union organized against the infamous Big Boss Bernard. Unfortunately, he was shot and killed in cold blood by a fellow young revolutionary who got confused by his surname. We shall never forget your sacrifices Albert. Adrammelech — Adrammelech, the demon of Sepharvaim, roamed for centuries after the fall of His people in 300 BC. In His wandering, He discovered Cincinnati and found the banks of the Ohio River as pleasing as the Euphrates. Upon first approaching the new group of Scouts He thought them to be easy prey, but could not break their cando attitude. He joined instead and holds the record for the oldest member of the Scouts, as He exists outside of time and all things we can perceive. Clarence Wright — A second cousin of the Wright brothers, Clarence was the first Scout to capture an aviation badge. Some scouts accused him of nepotism for using his cousins to get on a flight, however, the Wright brothers were entirely unaware that Clarence was napping in the plane’s underside on that fateful day in Kitty Hawk. Either way, we laud him as a pioneer who opened the sky for the scouts.

The Scouts Issue

Meet the Scouts!

My name is James. I am a Tiger Scout. I am 5 years old. When I grow up, I want to be a force to be fucking reckoned with.

My name is Lina. I am a Tiger Scout. I am 5 years old. When I grow up, I want to be far away from James.

MY NAME IS EUGENE WITHERSPOON. I AM A SCOUT LEADER. I AM 92 YEARS OLD. I DO NOT KNOW HOW TO TURN OFF CAP LOCK ON BLACKBERRY. I AM ALL GROWN UP: I WANT TO BE DEAD.

My name is Max. Introductions are for losers.

It’s James again. In my hands, I hold the detonator to thousands of explosives planted directly underneath the Boy Scouts of America National Council. Your quaint existence is but a plaything within my grasp, and as your feeble leaders cower in the shadows, I will emerge as the one true Chief Scout Executive. I have infiltrated your feeble communication systems, and now my voice echoes in every corner, every crevice of your beloved organization. In 24 hours, you will be faced with an explosive reality. My demands are simple: three packs of Welch’s fruit snacks, the dishonorable discharge of Lina, and promotion to Eagle Scout rank. The clock is ticking, and the choice is yours. It’s an honor to serve.

—D. Wang

The Yale Record

HOW TO KNOW WHAT THE WEATHER IS RIGHT NOW

THE ULTIMATE SUBURBAN SURVIVAL GUIDE

All scouts are bound by the oath to commit wholly to their pursuit of preparedness. But now I ask you, before you tie that knot or erect that tent, what must you consider? That’s right –– the weather. To even begin to understand the inner workings of meteorology, you need to know the exact forecast this very minute. But how can you research the history of meteorology if the library is closed due to a spontaneous tornado? How can you draw a diagram of the water cycle if the wind rips your paper from your tiny, child-sized hands? How can you interview the local weatherman if they’ve taken a sudden vacation to Mont Tremblant to shred powder thanks to this epic snowstorm we’re having? True preparedness stems from true knowledge of the weather, and this knowledge must be accurate and honed beyond a mere weather app. Scouts, this is why it is crucial that you have a guide for how to know what the weather is, right here and right now, and I will be the one to bestow it upon you: Step 1: Go outside and check.

Stay well-stocked on essential supplies — A portable charger works wonders. What will you do if you can’t hit the pen during Grandma Mimi’s wake?. Document everything — You never know when you’ll need poorly lit Polaroids of yourself at the playground at 2:00 A.M. Sport proper camouflage — Much like a zebra is protected by its stripes, your high school sports jersey will prevent the cops from singling you out from the identically-dressed herd as everyone runs away from the “party” in the Target parking lot. Foster a yearning for the outdoors — By the outdoors, we of course mean the city that is just out of range for non-essential trips. You may name it as your hometown out of convenience, but you must sell that you know Cleveland like the back of your hand. Store additional layers — You will need those khaki shorts for formal events. —G. Cohen Be prepared to signal — Those imaginary gang signs will make sure everyone knows you’re from the streets (technically a cul-de-sac). Own a Jeep Wrangler — No explanation necessary. — A. Herrmann and P. Milbank

HOW TO SCARE AWAY A HUMAN

— A. Herrmann

— S. Yu

NEW HAVEN, CONNECTICUT • SATURDAY, DECEMBER 9, 2023 • VOL. LXVIII, NO. 3 • yaledailynews.biz

Scouts Oath Broken on Prom Night BY JULIETTE PROPP STAFF REPORTER

Guy Hunt, Northridge High junior, was dishonorably discharged from his Boy Scouts of America Chapter this week for breaking his sacred oath to “always be prepared.” The Record met with Hunt and his prom date to get the inside scoop. Last Friday, Hunt attended his junior prom clad in full scouting attire, with his date, Jenny Michaels. When asked about his attire, Hunt informed us that “The ladies go crazy

for a man in uniform.” When asked about his attire, Michaels informed us that “[she] was so fucking embarassed.” The two were seen exiting the gymnasium around 8:11 PM to “get freaky” in Hunt’s mother’s Sedan. “This was the moment I had been waiting for my entire life,” he explained. Sources close to Hunt reported that the Scout opened his backpack to reveal a bottle of sparkling cider, two champagne flutes, a handful of red roses, an inflatable camping pillow, three

flameless candles, and a I have never seen and, bluetooth speaker. God willing, will never see again.” But Hunt was When asked for com- determined to help: “This ment, Michaels respond- girl was not going to die on ed: “Who does this kid my watch. She was hemorthink he is, Mary fucking rhaging, but my instincts Poppins?” When ques- kicked in, and I started tioned about the back- cutting through fabric to pack, Hunt responded, reach the source of the “Always be prepared, it’s bleeding. It was a bloodthe Boy Scout way! I never bath, but I persisted.” go anywhere without my backpack –– not even the “I got my period, but shower.” he started freaking out and ripping up my dress,” MiThe two began engag- chaels commented. ing in osculation, when Hunt made a shocking dis“She was clearly delucovery. “Blood. There was sional from blood loss. She blood everywhere. It was began asking me for cold a horror the likes of which weather gear, even though

it was May.” “I asked him for a tampon. He heard ‘crampon.’” The following week, Hunt was removed from his chapter as a result of breaking the oath he took in 2015 to “always be prepared.” His Scout Leader, Mo Daniels, declined to comment on this serious breach of conduct. At press time, Hunt was reportedly auditing a sixth grade sex ed class.

Scouts Declared a Foreign Threat, Invaded by National Guard

BY TERRENCE HARRIS versially earned his Eagle STAFF REPORTER

WASHINGTON— Last night, President Joe Biden addressed the nation with a troubling development in the National Guard’s standoff against the Boy Scouts of America. “My fellow Americans, the Scouts have successfully repelled our strikes at preppy middle schools nationwide,” declared the President, whose son Hunter contro-

Scout rank in 2019. Last Tuesday, after discovering the Scouts had planned to stage a coup against the US government at the 2023 National Scout Jamboree, President Biden quickly ordered the deployment of the National Guard. However, as soon became apparent, Washington severely underestimated the Scouts, whose official motto is “Be Prepared.”

“Those prepubescent, pinecone-sniffing bastards are tougher than we anticipated,” Secretary of Defense Lloyd Austin admitted at today’s press hearing. “They took out our troops with ABombs,” Austin reported, visibly shaken by the memory. “That’s when you tie a rope around the button of an Axe body spray canister and throw it into someone’s tent so that the whole thing reeks like

a middle-school locker room. We caught a few stealthier ones sneaking poison ivy into soldiers’ sleeping bags at night –– it was Afghanistan all over again.” The Manly Scouts of New Scoutlandia, formerly the Boy Scouts of America, issued their conditions for a ceasefire shortly after the President’s address: “First, everyone of Eagle Scout rank gets to be President for a day. Second,

all Girl Scouts must undergo a mandatory cooties check. Third, every US citizen will purchase at least two boxes of Boy Scouts popcorn and eat it with a goddam smile.” At press time, a Cub Scout was apprehended for trying to set fire to the Capitol Building by rubbing a stick really fast.

Rejected Girl Scout

Cookie Flavors

Sextuple Chocolate

Sour Cream and Onion

Thick Mints

Fentanyl

Grandma’s Sewing Kit

Body of Christ

KETO

Soy

Fresh Laundry

Santa’s Rejects

Menthol

Aioli

Bee-Sting

Shellfish

Microplastics

Oatmeal Rasin —Staff

WA N T E D NAME: Alex

NAME: Carson McArson

NAME: Tommy

ALIAS: Alicks

ALIAS: Smokey the Bear

ALIAS: The Wheezer

TROOP: 644

TROOP: 451

TROOP: O2

HEIGHT: 4’ 5”

HEIGHT: 4’ 8”

HEIGHT: 5’ 3”

LAST SEEN: Stuck to a frozen metal pole

LAST SEEN: Headed for the river

LAST SEEN: The ER

SKILL/BADGES: Flint and steel, toasting marshmallows, collecting firewood

SKILL/BADGES: Fainting, getting out of running the mile

SKILL/BADGES: Cookie selling, stamp collecting WANTED FOR: Licking cookies and putting them back in the box REWARD: Moist cookies

NAME: Jeff ALIAS: Milwaukee Monster TROOP : 675 HEIGHT: 4’ 10” LAST SEEN: Taking Polaroid pictures of wildlife SKILL/BADGES: Hunting, speed dating WANTED FOR: Serial killing REWARD: The skull of Jeff’s last victim

WANTED FOR: Unintentional burning of 3 WANTED FOR: Doping on group million acres of national forest, intentional hike burning of 1 acre of national forest REWARD: A used inhaler (that REWARD: Pack of cigarettes Tommy claims he needs)

NAME: Mr. Woods

NAME: Russell

ALIAS: Danny’s dad

ALIAS: Unwanted disappointment

TROOP: 839

TROOP: Tribe 54, Sweat Lodge 12

HEIGHT: 5’ 11”

HEIGHT: 1’ 7”

LAST SEEN: In the workshop at 4am

LAST SEEN: At an altitude of 5,000’

SKILL/BADGES: Carpentry, winning

SKILL/BADGES: Being clingy, crossing street, aviator

WANTED FOR: Building his son’s Pinewood Derby car REWARD: Central Illinois Pinewood Derby 1st Place Medal

WANTED FOR: Elder abuse REWARD: 3,000 balloons

— Staff

The Scouts Issue

DAMN FIRE WON’T STOP I TRIED STOMPING AND SHOVELLING SAND AND USING THE WRETCHED SNUFFER, YET TROOP 42’S APPARENTLY IMMORTAL FIRE CONTINUES TO TAUNT ME, AS I QUESTION MY WORTH SECOND AS A MAN AND FIRST AS A PROUD EAGLE SCOUT. NO RESPONSIBLE SCOUT MAY REST UNTIL ALL FOREST FIRE HAZARDS ARE SECURED. MY TORMENT MULTIPLIED TENFOLD AS HUNDREDS OF BEELEZEBUB’S DEMONIC MOTHS WERE DRAWN TO THIS UNRELENTING FLAME, AND I WON’T WAKE UP TO A BUNCH OF ICKY CHEWED UP HOLES IN MY UNIFORM BECAUSE THAT MAY FLY FOR A COMMON TENDERFOOT RANK BUT NOT THIS EAGLE SCOUT, NO SIREE. KEVIN FROM TENT 2 TRIED A BUCKET FROM THE NEARBY POND AND THAT SEEMED TO TEMPER THE ACCURSED LIGHT, BUT OUR RAVENOUS HEARTH SIMPLY EVAPORATED ALL THE GOSH DANG SCUM, AND NOW A BRAIN-EATING AMOEBA HAS PROBABLY INFECTED US ALL AND AFFLICTED US TO A PESTILENTIAL SLEEPLESS EXISTENCE, SO THANKS A LOT KEVIN FOR THAT. WHY HAS OUR DEAR SCOUTMASTER IN THE SKY SOUGHT TO PUNISH ME SO? WHY IS IT THAT NOTHING I SACRIFICE MAY ASSUAGE OUR NASCENT CONFLAGRATION FROM BILLOWING INTO DANTE’S FORETOLD INFERNO? THIS IS PROBABLY MOST DEFINITELY PUNISHMENT FOR THE TIME I LEFT A PEANUT FOR MY NEW SWEET SQUIRREL FRIEND RUDOLPHO FROM THE TAKENOTHING-BUT-PICTURES, LEAVENOTHING-BUT-FOOTPRINTS PARK SITE, AND FOR THAT I SWEAR I SEVERELY REPENT. Anyways mom, I’ve gotta go, but can you buy more citronella oil for the next trip? Troopmaster Rex used ‘em all up. —E. Chen

TRANSCRIPT: INTERVIEW WITH SMOKEY THE BEAR ON HOW HE QUIT SMOKING INTERVIEWER: So let’s get right into it, Smokey. When did you begin smoking? SMOKEY: It must have been sophomore or junior year of high school. I just wanted to fit in. That was back when smoking was cool, before it had all these scary health risks. INTERVIEWER: I see. Now that was a long time ago. SMOKEY: Don’t remind me. INTERVIEWER: Of course. So what led you to quit? After all these — at this time? SMOKEY: Well, it was really a combination of things. But the most important reason is my family. Of course, I want to live to see my kids grow up… And then I caught my 12-year-old daughter with a reefer, and I realized, I wasn’t setting a good example for my cubs. INTERVIEWER: Well, that’s honorable of you, Smokey. How did you do it? SMOKEY: I read one of those quit smoking books. INTERVIEWER: And that worked? SMOKEY: Yep, simple as that. INTERVIEWER: There wasn’t anything else? SMOKEY: Nope. INTERVIEWER: Well, studies have shown that lit cigarette butts are one of the leading causes of forest fires. As the nation’s most outspoken firefighter, do you encourage Americans to quit smoking to save our forests? SMOKEY: Oh, uh, well, I’m not actually a firefighter. I sold the rights to my image to the U.S. government way back when to get a little extra cash in my 20s, but I’m not at all involved. I work at a life insurance company in Hartford, Connecticut. Honestly, I throw cigarettes in the forest every once in a while. It’s not something I’m proud of, but we all do it. INTERVIEWER: This is shocking news, coming from Smokey the bear. SMOKEY: Why should it be? I’m an ordinary man. When I sold the rights to my image to the US government back in ’85, I didn’t expect it to limit my rights to throw cigarettes in the forest! I mean, for Heaven’s sake, this is America! This is a free country! A box of Marlboro Reds falls out of his pocket. He scrambles for them. SMOKEY: “Those aren’t mine!” INTERVIEWER, to the camera: “Did you get that?” INTERVIEWER: Alright, alright, thank you, Smokey. Back to the evening news. —– T. Schiminovich

The Yale Record

POINT: ON MY HONOR, I WILL DO MY BEST TO DO MY DUTY TO GOD AND TO MY COUNTRY AND TO OBEY THE SCOUT LAW.

SCOUTING: A HISTORY

The Scouts, in their Boy and Girl varieties, have become a cornerstone of American adolescence. However, most civilians are unaware I embody the ideal scout and fully adhere to the moral code that the history of the Scouts dates back to long before 20th century of the Boy Scouts of America. Every Tuesday night, I file into America and has in fact had its fingers in almost every great past civimy local community center/Methodist Church basement, recite lization. Archeologists recently uncovered a neolithic site in Ethiopia the Scout Oath and the Scout Law, and serve my country. I submit fully and happily to strictly male authority figures. I wor- showing that ancient peoples were so committed to scouting, they were ship only God, the Scout Law, and the nation in which I stand. outside most of the time! From there the tradition traveled up the Nile to ancient Egypt, I sell popcorn to defend our democracy. You are welcome for my eventually making its way to the Greeks, who adopted this practice, service. albeit with a signature homoerotic flair. The Olympic Games (naked wrestling included) were actually the original form of the Scout’s COUNTERPOINT: ON MY DISHONOR, I LIED, National Jamboree. The Romans continued the practice of scouting AND IT FELT SO GOOD. and further refined the culture –– it’s even rumored that Empress Livia Something changed within me that day. I lied about sucDrusilla invented the Thin Mint. cessfully tying 10 square knots when I had only tied seven, and With the fall of the Roman empire, scouting was stomped out nothing fucking happened. In an instant, the pillars that upheld until Jesus Christ himself revealed the truth of God and the necessity my moral temple came crashing down around me. I realized of sleeping under dark green polyester A-frame tarps to Joseph Smith that truth is relative, and therefore, so is the Scout Law. Merit through the golden plates. Scouting became a core pillar of Mormon badges are lies. Cookies are lies. Square knots actually look more tradition as they heroically defied the American government in their like a rhombus. Is anything even real? Am I real? I forsake the Scouts, I reject the Oath, and I ask that you help me find a way brave journey to the new Zion, Salt Lake City. From the Mormon church, the Scouts expanded into the national organization we know to trust my perception of reality once more. Please––I’m begtoday. ging. Evidently, scouting exists at the very core of the human experience. — T. Commander It brought man out of the caves and into the modern world, then back near (but not quite in) the caves for biweekly retreats. In many ways we have –– and always will –– live to Scout. CS STUDENT’S SWISS ARMY KNIFE — R. Shivakumar

EVERYTHING I CAN DO WITH MY POCKET KNIFE 1. Scratch my name onto a tree 2. Scratch my anime girlfriend’s name onto a tree 3. Scratch CROATOAN onto a tree 4. Perform open heart surgery on a deer 5. Sacrifice Dave to Hecate under the glow of a full moon for wicked and bountiful treasures 6. Open a can of tuna 7. Cut a diamond in half 8. Cut a diamond in half again ... 987,456,221. Cut a carbon proton quark in half and disprove the standard model of physics 987,456,222. Whittle — L. Zack

— B. Soti

US Army Communications Office of the Sergeant Major November 16, 2023 #495536456 Operation Cookie Crumble Declassified Testimony, Pentagon, 0430, August 16, 2023 From its very inception, the details of Operation Cookie Crumble were classified and never released to the public. That is, until now. At 0330 on April 21, 2023 my troop rappelled into the Trefoil Forest approximately 5 kilometers due east of the Girl Scout Headquarters. Our orders were to retrieve the highly touted cookie recipes with minimal casualties. But before we knew it, The Green Sashes, an elite branch of Girl Scout mercenaries, flanked us on all sides. Shortly after, I found one of our Scouts laying lifeless, head smashed between two s’mores cookies. No time to grieve. I pushed on. Attempting to hide, I covered myself in a peanut butter camouflage, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing was enough. I was captured, blindfolded, and forced to march deep into the woods. I couldn’t see, but I knew where I was going: GSGB. The Girl Scouts of Guantanamo Bay. For six years, I labored 16 hours a day. With blistered fists, I punched out the holes of each Samoa before they were packaged and shipped. Between shifts, they subjected me to intense, inhumane interrogation techniques to get me to reveal the confidential section of the Scout Oath. I was blindfolded and force-fed Lemon-Ups until the citric acid burned through my stomach lining. They put Do-sidos in unspeakable places. They almost broke me. Almost. After nearly losing hope, the Boy Scouts won my release in a prisoner swap. I was finally allowed to return to my family in exchange for the release of an imprisoned Girl Scout who tied an illegal knot. Upon my return I expected a hero’s welcome, medals and parades. Instead, all I received was a bag of popcorn and my wilderness survival badge. And I wear it with honor. -A. Misner

The Yale Record

THINGS I WOULD NEVER PUT IN A S’MORE

SUPPORT OUR BOYS IN UNIFORM

Rocky Mountain oysters Gasoline Mother’s brisket My little brother’s toy cars Marshmallows (Mother says gelatin is bad for cognition) Graham crackers (Mother says we’re on a paleo keto diet) Chocolate (Mother says caffeine is a sign of society’s inevitable moral decay)

Want to support the Boy Scouts of America? Here are some easy ways you can help.

Fight the Feminist Agenda Work to eliminate the local bear population, so that scouting trips are safer Steal the Chicago Bears’ mascot suit, roll around in the mud for an hour, and set off for the forest to learn how the bears think THINGS I WOULD PUT IN A S’MORE Infiltrate the local bear population and realize that they aren’t so different than you after all Quinoa Experience true community for the first time in your life and Kale vow to do anything you can to protect the gentle, kind, and Obedience frankly lovely, bears who have accepted you as their own Abandon human civilization to permanently reside with the — A. Gillon bears, become a champion of your community, and effectively evade the NFL’s private police force I THOUGHT YOU SAID GLAMPING Enlist — A. Gately Hi Barbara, CLASSIC AMERICAN GLAMPING MAP When I signed up to chaperone Marley’s trip, I was under the impression that “glamping” referred to the popular practice of glamorous camping. It was not clear to me from your uninformative email that glamping, in fact, refers to “glee camping.” In the future, I would appreciate it if you made your correspondences more complete and understandable or at the very least stopped lying through your goddam teeth. These children, who won’t stop singing, have now eaten every cucumber I brought for our eye masks, and my yoga clothes have dirt on them. Dirt, Barbara. On my Lulu’s. If I hear “Satisfied” from Hamilton one more time, I’m turning my travel welcome mat over to the “do not enter” side. Not that it would accomplish very much –– I’m sharing a tent with that idiot Susan, who seems to know nothing about essential oils. She keeps asking if she can “add some of my peppermint flavoring to her morning oatmeal.” In the event that my bespoke memory foam earplugs give out, I will be smothering Susan with my bespoke 1 — Directions to Nike outlet memory foam pillow. Her blood is on your hands, Barabara. 2 — Siren karaoke nights Please remove me from your future chaperone lists. I am very 3 — Bottomless pit of mimosas much not “satisfied” with your behavior. 4 — Geiser steam room (towels provided) 5 — S’mores toasting All my love to the kids. 6 — Beaver Creek, Colorado 7 — Nothing of note here. Best, 8 — Private gas tanker fire Sheila Bower 9 — Smaller private gas tanker fire 10 — Escargot Sent from my iPhone. 11 — House Arrest Suites — A. Calkins — B. Soti

The Scouts Issue

THINGS I DO THAT SHOULD GET ME BADGES Waking up Helping an old lady cross the street Pouring extra water on The Women’s Table Attending my 9 a.m. Demonstrating my lock-picking skills to steal my friend’s pink, child-sized razor scooter under the cover of night Holding the door open for the person behind me Helping my friend look for their pink, child-sized razor scooter and advising them to take better care of their belongings Helping a fallen baby bird find its mother Arriving early to my class on science hill on a scooter that already had my friend’s name scratched into it when I bought it at that store with the name I can’t remember Sustainable commuting

Smelly Bumpass refers to the park’s sulfuric hydrothermal springs that were legendary to both the native tribes and later U.S. settlers of the region. Bumpass comes from Kendall Vanhook Bumpass who fell into the springs and, according to legend, is still down there to this day. Little Ocmulgee Park, GA — There is no information on this park whatsoever. — K. Bruce

I ALONE HAVE MASTERED MARSHMALLOWS

Malcolm Gladwell once said, “10,000 hours is not enough time to become an expert marshmallow roaster,” and he was right. It takes 10,001. I have used my hours for important work, work of unreplicable excellence. But being the only human who can roast a marshmallow perfectly is a heavy burden to carry. I have faced eye-rolls and disappointment every time I claim — A. Garcia my marshmallow is perfect; I have been denied by the losers at Guinness, because apparently “most perfectest and gooiest THE LESSER-KNOWN NATIONAL PARKS marshmallow” is “far too subjective” to be a “World Record;” I have been kicked out of my parents’ home for practicing too Atlantic City, New Jersey — Atlantic City often flies under much, for committing to my craft, and all they can claim is “we the radar of the even most thorough national park lists, don’t want another arson-charges incident.” They just don’t understand. simply because few people visit it voluntarily. Rather Thus, unto you –– unto all people –– I share my gospel. unconventionally, it features almost no “traditional nature” First, of course, you must procure your stick. Heft, girth, and is instead almost entirely paved over. The city earned and flexibility are all factors to keep in mind. But do not think its designation as a national park after both the state too deeply. True stick-man pairings are made on instinct alone. and federal governments deemed it too wild to govern Next, position yourself around the campfire. Some novtraditionally. ices encourage you to stand away from the wind, for eye- and Possum Kingdom Park, Parts of Oklahoma, Missouri, and lung-safety, while others insist you must allow the wind to hit Arkansas — The Possum kingdom park was discovered you, to increase your share of the flames. I stand in the position by a party of wayward soldiers in the 1860’s. Only of Truth, and together we declare: in order to roast the perfect one survived the ordeal and escaped to tell the tale of a marshmallow, you must move at a constant rate of 6.75 rpms land overrun by highly organized and hateful Didelphis around the fire while rotating your stick at the same rate in the virginiana, or American Possums. The U.S. military has opposite direction. This must be done until all other campfireattempted to occupy the possum kingdom several times and attendees leave. You may exclaim, “But, that’s so variable! What if that takes hours, and my marshmallow burns?” Oh, it won’t. lost countless lives in the process. To save face, the U.S. The fire — she knows her limits, and she knows yours. The fire government declared the land to be a national park. watches. The fire wants your marshmallow to be perfect. And Old Campus, Connecticut — When Yale was first founded, Old Campus was a wild untamed land full of wolves, bears, the fire knows that circling at such a pace will isolate you sooner than you think. “Pleasure is given to the patient.” The Dalai and other furry critters. The nation’s founders accordingly Lama said that. It is true. Patience is a virtue, and yours will be granted it the title of national park. Unfortunately, human rewarded by The Flames. incursion and resource extraction has all but decimated the And so you are learnéd. Know that this road — the cononce flourishing wildlife populations and thrown the natural noisseur’s path — is a lonely one. Know that you work for a first-year and wolf population dynamics out of equilibrium. pleasure –– a pleasure far worthier than wealth. Ecologists are planning to reintroduce wolves to the Old campus national park to control first-year population booms — W. Sussbauer and re-wild the once great landscape. Smelly Bumpass State park, CA — The smelly in the name

The Yale Record

QUIZ: CAN YOU START THE FIRE? 1) Where would you start the fire? a) Campsite b) Fire pit c) Peter Salovey’s walk-in closet 2) How would you get there? a) Drive b) Walk c) Enter Peter Salovey’s house using the key underneath his doormat 3) Choose a tinder: a) Dry leaves b) Birch bark c) Peter Salovey’s undergarments 4) Choose a kindling: a) Sticks b) Small pieces of firewood c) Peter Salovey’s blazer (the sexy one) 5) What would you light the fire with? a) Lighter b) Matches c) Peter Salovey’s lavender scented candle that’s currently burning on his coffee table and is really adding to the ambience 4) Will you go start the fire right now? a) No b) No c) Absolutely!

Getting lost doesn’t come from your head –– it comes from your heart. You have to feel it in every cell of your being. One minute, you should be with the troop; the next, you should be ten feet up a tree investigating the contents of a robin’s nest with no idea how you got there, but you should be excited about it. It’s an art form, and my Scoutmaster definitely doesn’t appreciate it. But, whatever –– Mark is a crotchety old fuck anyway, too interested in 40-year-old man activities like lawn care and filing for divorce to make time to learn about art. Mark has never gotten lost in the woods, and it shows. He’s the biggest sucker when it comes to maps. But if Scoutmaster Mark finds this instruction manual, here are a few prerequisites for him to getting lost: 1. Turn that map upside down. 2. Head deep into the woods, but don’t think about it too hard. Just listen to your gut. You’re twelve years old. There isn’t a cop out there who’s gonna be thinking like you. 3. Follow your heart, baby. Wooh! You made it. Just you, a campfire you started with the help of your paper map, a tent, several rolls of toilet paper, a couple weenies roasting over that campfire I just mentioned, and a whoooole lotta silence. Hell yeah. Now I get why Dad loves golf: Deafening silence is the shit. I’m writing this in the deafening silence of my camp right now. Thank God I went the “wrong” way, the right way. —W. Boone HE HASN’T EVEN GOTTEN HIS INCHES VS FEET BADGE YET!

Mostly A’s: You’re a loser virgin lacking competency in basic wilderness survival skills. Mostly B’s: You’re a loser virgin lacking competency in basic wilderness survival skills who also cannot drive. Mostly C’s: You’re a rugged risk taker who could survive in any biome, be it forest, tundra, or 43 Hillhouse Ave, New Haven, CT 06511. — D. Wang HOW TO GET LOST IN THE WOODS THE RIGHT WAY My name is Little Jimmy, and this is an instruction manual. “An instruction manual for what?” you might be asking yourself. Well, if getting lost in the woods were a sport, I would be an Olympic gold medalist. Getting lost in the woods the right way all starts with your intentions. This is what we in the business call “technique.” If you’re trying to stay with the group and get lost by accident, you’re doing it wrong.

— C. Jones

The Scouts Issue

WHAT I SAW ON MY “TRIP” TO WALGREENS

GIRL SCOUT SCAMS THROUGHOUT HISTORY

Hi Mom! How was my afternoon.... afternoon? To summarize my expedition within the confines of the space-time continuum would be to pauperize the very essence of my journey. I saw things I had never seen. I heard things I had never heard. Where did I start? It began when I indulged in the mushroom pilaf that a student in my “Plants and People” class so kindly foraged and prepared, then continued as I spent 6 hours on the trail reciprocating intimate whispers with Mother Nature. Our codependency was palpable –– when I forked off her path, a sensorial energy stopped me. It was as if a wooden fence dug deep into my skin, a voice from all directions booming, “Ma’am, this is President Salovey’s backyard, you’re trespassing.” Ah, what else did I see? I traversed a sprawling green meadow and spectated a conversation between Theodore Dwight Woolsey and Nathan Hale themselves. I passed a habitat ruled entirely by toads and immersed myself in their vibrant culture. I held the moon in the palm of my hand and told her I was sorry. Then –– what? No, Mom, I don’t know what kind of mushrooms were in the pilaf, I… oh my god, can you ever just let me finish a story? Where did I get these gummy worms in the middle of the wilderness? At the gift shop. Like, the little store at the end of the trail, with the snacks and the soaps and the workers with the W shirts. Jesus, they were a dollar. You’re always so critical about how I spend my money. Oh, you just wanted to know if I picked up the toe fungus prescription you sent me to get from Walgreens? Uh… I guess I got a little distracted.

Before there were cookies, the Girl Scouts of America explored a variety of products to rake in the big bucks. Here are the failures that led to the cookie empire we know and love today:

—G. Cohen

Life Insurance — Customers found that their insurance agents looked suspiciously like three children stacked in a trench coat. The policies were also written in crayon. Skincare Products — “Scouts’ Secret Serum” promised to make customers look as youthful as the 3rd graders selling it. The secret was asbestos. Dietary Supplements — These supplements, derived from wild mushrooms foraged by local Girl Scouts, were actually very popular. Unfortunately, they filled users with the irresistible urge to escape into the wilderness and join a women’s commune dedicated to spreading positivity, making it hard to establish repeat customers. Investment Advising — Women in STEM! As soon as they earned their “counting” badges, these girls were ready to help others manage their millions. Note: may have caused the Great Recession. Energy Drinks — This toxic combination of Four Loko, Mountain Dew, Red Bull, and horse tranquilizer was not only sold to the public, but also given to the sellers to boost morale. Reports of feral Girl Scouts barking and growling at neighborhood grandmas rose to an all-time high, and one particularly spirited young saleswoman had to be neutralized. — H. Shanefield

The Yale Record

A SCOUT’S GUIDE TO GRIZZLING A GRIZZLY

TRICKS TO KEEP MOSQUITOES AWAY

Girl Scouts: Step 1: Open your fanny pack and pull out two pencils, three Silly Bandz, and as many thumb tacks as possible. In a pinch, thumbtacks can be substituted with Daisy Scout pins, safety scissors, or switchblades –– embrace your creativity. Step 2: Lay your pencils in an X formation and secure them with two of the Silly Bandz using the double-decker-lasso-loop (discussed on page 47 of the “Knotty Girl’s Handbook”). Step 3: Assume sniper position and begin launching projectiles until the bear is visually impaired. Step 4: Approach the flailing bear and remove your sash. Tie it into a makeshift lasso with a flying-triple-tango-switchback, found on page 19 of “I’m Knot Some Little Kid, I’m a Girl Scout,” and swing until you capture your foe. Boy Scouts: Step 1: Provoke the bear, insult his mother, and tell him about the lovely time you had with his wife last weekend. Step 2: When he charges, reach into your tool belt for something hefty and masculine. This will likely be your Boy Scoutissued Springfield XD-M Elite 3.8 inch Compact OSP Handgun! Point and shoot until the barrel is empty. Step 3: Come home to your newly-widowed bear mistress and make it legal. — H. Murray-Nelson

Always wear long sleeves and pants that look like they’re from the ’80s. Mosquitoes prefer the aesthetics of the early 2000s, so they’ll avoid your fluorescent outfits and gaudy jewelry. Go outside dressed like a bat and flap your arms ominously. This will make them think that you’re a vampire, and therefore their superior in the realm of blood-suckers. Tell the mosquito it has a really cute proboscis. Give it your phone number at the club. Ask it if it has dinner plans on Tuesday. Make it promise to call you to make plans. Eventually it’ll say it needs to use the restroom and leave without talking to you again. If you do get a call from one, talk nonstop, then text them constantly once they hang up. Don’t wait for them to reply back. Point out the ways that you’re not like the other mosquitoes. If this isn’t enough, tell them that your blood isn’t the only thing you want them to suck. Most mosquitoes are pretty vanilla and will be turned off by this. Be yourself. It’s been working for me for years. Why don’t they want me? WHY? DEET. — A. Budejen, N. Minsky-Primus and E. Shvarts

Anthropology at Yale Because humans are complicated

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The Scouts Issue

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Dear Old Owl,

with the bonds formed in a large-scale knife fight. As far as what to bring, check I can’t wait for Jamboree, but I’ve out oldowlsknivesandusedlipstick.com. I never been before and don’t know think you’ll find everything you need. what to expect. I don’t know what to bring, and I’m scared I won’t Dear Old Owl, make friends. Any advice for a new Jammer? If I cried for help, would anyone even hear me? The forest is allDear Owlet, consuming and looks the same at every turn. I fear I’m running in Oh boy, a first-timer! I was banned circles, and that one day I may run from Jamming after my second Jambo- into a bear, a wolf — or worse, I ree in 1986, and I look back on those myself am the one to cause my demise, for I do not know how days fondly. That same year, I was also own much longer it is possible to ward banned from the Boston location of the off impending insanity. I wonder, Burlington Coat Factory and all locations when I hear hollow whistling, is it of Chuck E. Cheese due to a freak knife- you? Is that you out there? Is anyand-Skee-Ball incident which was entirely one out there? not my fault. Good, good times. All this to say: Youth is priceless and so is Jambo- Dear Owlet, ree. At Jamboree 1986, someone yelled: “KNIFE FIGHT!” and then there was I’m here, I’m there, I’m everywhere: it’s a huge knife fight. It remains one of my called the Old Owl World Tour Extravagreatest childhood memories. Don’t wor- ganza: On Ice And Ground. The last six ry about making friends; those will come months of my life have been dedicated to

Old Owl is an alcoholic, nicotineaddicted nightbird that roams campus scrounging for vestiges of the relevance he enjoyed in the Record’s heyday. He now offers advice, free of charge. If you’d like to Ask Old Owl about your weird life, email askoldowl@yalerecord.com. tour, tour, tour, and let me tell you there’s nothing like being on the road. I’m traveling forest to forest, never spending a second night in the same place. It’s been hard, being away from my mail-order beauty and our two illegitimate children for so long, but I’ve met lots of warm company to pass the time. So yeah, if you heard my signature Old Owl Cry at my copyrighted Old Owl Cry Frequency, it was probably me. If it was some rando chump, it’s possible Old Owl Corporation could have a lawsuit on their hands. Let me know if you think there are any cheap Old Owl imitations out there — this could be a real dangerous problem for me and my conglomerate.

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