The TV Issue

Page 1

Vol. 139, No. 4

TH E YALE

Nov. 15, 2010

RECORD The TV Issue

CONTENT MAY NOT BE SUITABLE FOR CHILDREN UNDER THE AGE OF SEVENTEEN

To restate, if the reader is under the legal age of consent, then the reader should cease from reading.

The Record is printed with the explicit intent of attracting hot, young (legal) sex-groupies who are willing to go all the way with the staff of the Record and even do some weird stuff if everyone’s cool with it.

Thus, as stated, if we can’t legally have sex with you, don’t bother reading.

STILL, CALL ME: (618) 292-1384

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EPA to Discourage CO2 Pollution by Permitting Exhalation Only on Monday, Wednesday, Friday Dear McDonalds, When you said there was a free toy in every Happy Meal, I wasn’t expecting it to be a dead rat. Sincerely, A Horrified Seven-Year-Old

Ringo Starr Begins Global Ringo Starr Awareness Campaign Dear Parent, As you may know, your child’s teacher, Ms. Frizzle, is currently suspended. Further decisions on her employment will be made after we investigate the nature of certain expenses she has submitted to our financial department. We are not sure what this “Magic Dust� is, but some children have claimed that using it made their school bus turn into a shuttle and fly into outer space, and Arnold in particular has said that the resulting “trips� are “very unsettling.� We apologize for any inconvenience. —Principal Ruhle

Dear President Levin, We must protest your decision to revoke all fraternity charters. Please reconsider! —Joe’s Bed Sheets, Table Cloth, and Date Rape Drug Emporium

“Hooking Up� Reclassified to Include Incidental Breast Contact Dear Humans, So you guys came all the way up to Maine just to see me change colors? Oh, I have an idea: how about you go home, cut yourselves off from essential nutrients, shrivel up, and die. I’m sure it’ll look freaking awesome. Fuck you guys, A Leaf

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Dear Encyclopedia Britannica, Good work overall, but we found your explanation of maple syrup and hockey a bit lacking. Also of being huge pussies. —Encyclopedia Canadia Dear Pantyhose, What a pity. I imagined you to be a garden hose that spouted girls’ panties continuously. Sigh. I guess it’s back to stealing panties and blowing them out of a leaf blower. Sincerely, Dave

Palindromes Still Fucking Hard, Drah Gnikcuf Llits Semordnilap Dear Starbucks Barista, It’s me, James Franco. Don’t be alarmed. I know it seems weird that a celebrity of my stature would grace such a ho-hum franchise, but I guess we all have to drink coffee, right? Now look, I’m going to use my own name for my drink order. This may cause pandemonium in the store. Trust me, I hate using my name in public as much as the next guy--the screaming crowds, the tears, the underage girls who offer blowjobs. But I’d be hiding behind a pseudonym otherwise, and that’s just not me. So my name’s James Franco, and I would like a venti mocha frappuccino, please. —A Crazy Guy Convinced He Is James Franco, Talking To A Parking Meter

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Dear Abby, Obama Immediately Regrets Dear Paleontologists, I’ve got so many problems. College Street Cycles We’re frustrated that you keep Yesterday I cut down this cherry tree, Calling Voting Public “Fucking and I don’t know whether to tell the Repairmisconstruing the fossil record Repair Moronsâ€? evidence for our existence. We played Repair, Apparel truth about it or not. Also, I’ve been Shifting,  Braking  &  Wheels Shifting,  Braking  &  Wheels

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WE DELIVER Dear Interior Decorator, When I hired you to redo my living room, I told you I wanted to paint it blood-red, not with actual blood. That being said, I am impressed that you’ve managed to find enough blood to paint the entire room. Kudos! —Your client

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his week on As the Record Revolves, Ngozi wakes from her three-year coma only to find her evil step-daughter/cyborg Alli is sleeping with her husband, Bo, a golden retriever. Meanwhile, River plots the murder of Jerry, the drug lord who has taken control of the magazine by giving away free heroin to the staff; River’s hooked on the stuff and is convinced the only way he can get to the top is by murdering Jerry, claiming his territory, and wearing a fedora. Lincoln watches all of this unfold from his padded cell, as he has been institutionalized ever since he admitted he liked the band Creed.” In my opinion, these voiceovers made Record meetings more enjoyable, not “slanderous” as some of my staff claimed. They spiced things up, in the sense that at every meeting I would say a staff member was sleeping with a golden retriever, and then everyone would discuss in whispers whether that person was indeed sleeping with a golden retriever. Then a humiliated Jordy would leave the room in tears. Despite my efforts to keep the staff entertained, they were getting restless: “Do you watch anything other than soap operas on TV?” Ngozi asked, looking with what most people would call pity, but I call admiration, in her eyes.

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“No!� I cunningly countered. But seeing that more explanation was needed, I went on, “But hey, so sue me if soap operas depict my life with startling clarity. I mean, where else will I find a character named Melissa who has crippling self-esteem problems and a doppelganger named Rita who is trying to kill her in her sleep?� “Jesus, Melissa, if I wanted to hear about your selfesteem issues, I would read your diary more often,� River interjected. “And if you want such a real depiction of your life, why don’t we just make a reality TV show about the Record?� Lincoln positively jumped at the idea: “Yeah! I can be the Bachelor, and you can all try to woo me!� I fired Lincoln, and with that, we were on our way to making a Record reality TV show. Jerry had offered to be the cameraman as he had gone to a summer film school and also would not be able to “get a job after being seen on camera with you losers.� The staff had hunkered down and watched hours upon hours of TV, trying to figure out what reality TV tropes—from naked girl fights to naked girl fights with hair pulling—would make our show successful. I had increased my consumption of alcohol four-fold so that I would always have a good cushion of drunk when I was seen on camera. We started filming at the next meeting; it was explosive due to the interpersonal drama, as well as the several

Chairman: Jordy Greenblatt ’11

dozen firecrackers River ignited in a desperate bid for more screen time. But before I had time to accuse Dana of being a scheming bitch who wanted my job, Alli and Jordy were already fighting over a brainstorming list (“Reasons Why I Loved High School Musical 2â€?) and coming to tiny, ineffectual blows. In a later confessional, Jordy would reveal that Alli had said some less-than-gracious things about his golden retriever, and that in return he had punched her in the face. Alli would say in a later confessional that Jordy’s golden retriever was “fucking stupid.â€? At our next staff dinner, I flipped a table after Ngozi told me that my hair looked pretty. What kind of comment is that? Like my hair doesn’t normally look pretty? Who the hell is she to say that? Soon after, Jerry told me we had to stop filming. He was tired of watching us lead fake lives for the camera, and there hadn’t been any film in the camera to begin with. Relieved, I went back to picking girl fights when I felt like it, not just when there was a camera around. We had all learned a very important lesson: always remember to ‌ Aw, fuck it, Days of Our Lives is on.

Editor-in-Chief: Melissa Chiasson ’11 Design Editor: Ngozi Ukazu ’13 Managing Editors: River Clegg ’11, Dana Zhu ’12

—M. Chiasson The Yale Record November 2010

Publisher: Jerry Wang ’13

Art Director: Paul Robalino ’12 Staff Director: David Kemper ’13 Supplementals Editor: Nina Beizer ’12 Online Editor: Wesley Bolin ’12 Business Manager: Alli Hugi ’13 Publicity Manager: Lincoln Sedlacek ’13 Staff Writers & Artists: Ari Berkowitz ’12, Dounia Bredes ’11, Simon Chaffetz ‘12, Tasha Garcia ‘11, Zack Kagin ‘11, Adi Kamdar ’12, Nell Klugman ’12, Stephanie Naratil ’11, Valerie Naratil ’11, Jacob Paul ’13 , Brendan Ternus ’12, Bill Toth ’11 Contributing Writers & Artists: Ben Green ‘14, Juliett deButts ‘14, Matthew Dernbach ‘13, Serrena Iyer ’12, Andrew Kahn ‘14, Rahul Kini ‘14, Yoonjoo Lee ‘12, Jack Newsham ‘14, Sofia Nicholson ‘14, Michelle Taylor ‘13, Sydney Shea ‘14, Ellen Su ‘13, Lydia Stepanek ’12, Autumn Von Plinsky ’13, Catherine White ‘13, Kaan Vural ’12 Old Owls: Judd Rosenblatt ’11 Senior Editors: Jessica Bolhack ‘11, Alison Gates ‘11, Emily Sigman ’11 Special Thanks to: Michael Gerber, Gwyneth Tuckett and Station 72, the Yule log

Cover: This month’s cover was illustrated by Ngozi, who plays Larry King on Larry King Live )RXQGHG 6HSWHPEHU ‡ 9RO &;;;,; 1R 3XEOLVKHG LQ 1HZ +DYHQ CT E\ 7KH <DOH 5HFRUG ,QF %R[ 1HZ +DYHQ &7 ‡ \DOHUHFRUG FRP ‡ 6XEVFULSWLRQV \HDU SULQW ‡ \HDU HOHFWURQLF

All contents copyright 2010 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.

A LETTER Dear Executives of REALI-TV, I am writing with a proposal for my latest show, Just How Real Are You? After the marked success of my earlier projects (So You Want to Be a Traveling Vacuum Salesperson?; Who Can Eat the Most Feces in 76.5 Seconds?; Wow! I Never Would Have Guessed That Man Was a Philatelist!; and What the Hell Is a Philatelist, Anyway?) I think I have a strong foundation to move forward on this new show. The premise is simple, and the recent rise of reality television (see Wow, Reality TV Is Really Popular, Isn’t It? by Ivan Amakabuk, pgs. 13-296) should shoot it to stardom! The contestants will be chosen on the basis of looks, cattiness, ability to shamelessly self-promote and/or expose themselves, and nominal diversity. They will be sequestered in a house (I believe the house from Sex Addict Babysitters is available and would make a great shooting location) for several weeks and given a series of tests to determine which 17 of them would make the best reality show contestants. Then the show can funnel into another reality TV program (may I suggest the 29th season of Wow! I Never Would Have Guessed That Man Was A Philatelist!?) at the network’s discretion. Some competitions I have in mind are: coming up with 15 nasty things to say about Mother Teresa in 2 minutes; licking things that shouldn’t be licked—who can hold out the longest?; three word self-introductions

that make you sound both arrogant and sexually promiscuous; who has the best boobs (of the fake and man variety); ruining a complete stranger’s self-esteem using only words without the letter “A”; and swimming through mud in prom gowns (a tried and true favorite!). Thank you so much for giving your attention to my proposal (and don’t forget to tune in next week for the season finale of What the Hell is a Philatelist, Anyway?)! Sincerely, Abby Salutt-Luzeer —J. DeButts

TV THEMED RESTAURANTS House of Pies, M.D. Coleslaw & Order Family Gyro C.S.Thai Prison Breakfast Tex-Mex in the City Oprah: The Buffet —N. Ukazu

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TV’S LOST EPISODES You probably think you’re pretty savvy when it comes to watching TV. After all, who else knows about that episode of Sesame Street where Grover gets run over by the lawnmower and—wait, what’s that? You don’t know about that episode? Well then you need this DVD, so that you can watch some of TV’s Lost Episodes! Star Trek: The Next Generation “Yo Ho Ho and a Bottle of Mayhem” Summary: The crew of the Enterprise is used to strange, shenanigan-filled visits from Q that usually result in someone’s death. But they aren’t quite as used to visits from R, Q’s pirate brother. This sentient being says “Ar!” a lot, drinks plenty of rum, and is generally disorderly. But will the crew tolerate R’s swashbuckling ways when R tries to make a nameless, low-ranking officer walk the plank—into space? The Brady Bunch “The Banana Bunch” Summary: One night, Mike Brady tells his youngest son Bobby that if he isn’t careful, he will drive the entire family bananas. Imagine the family’s surprise when they all wake up the next morning as actual bananas! Jan is pleased, hoping that this new development will help her overcome her potassium deficiency, but the rest of the family is mad to find that they have transformed into the only piece of fruit that resembles a phallus.

Fred puts him out of the house one time too many, Dino finally decides to take matters into his own claws. Enjoy the Flintstones series finale as Dino the dinosaur goes on a murderous rampage, tearing Wilma to pieces in the shower and eating Fred’s own intestines while he watches. The question is, when the blood next spills, will it be the blood of one of the people of Bedrock? Or will the town finally put an end to Dino? —L. Sedlacek

RAP MOVEMENTS Ice Cubism Dr. Dresden Expressionism Rococoolio Eminimalism Puff Dadaism Lil’ Bauhaus —A. Kahn

The Magic School Bus “Drops a Bomb” Summary: Ms. Frizzle’s class has a slam poetry contest, but when Tim uses a swear word in his poem, Principle Ruhle says, “As long as this school stands, I will not tolerate the use of foul language in it!” To fight for their right to use the F-bomb, Ms. Frizzle and the class learn about nuclear reactions and build a genuine A-bomb! “Because if the school no longer stands, we can use whatever language we want!” shouts Ms. Frizzle, zany as ever. “Right, fuckers?!”

Y. Lee

The Flintstones “Jurassic Lark” Summary: Dino has always been the family’s loyal pet, but the family hasn’t always been as kind to him. When

WHERE IN THE CLOSET IS CARMEN SAN DIEGO?

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WHY ARE THERE SO MANY GAYS ON TV?

L. Sedlacek, N. Ukazu

Here’s a question we don’t hear too much of, you know? Now it’s not that I’m homophobic – let me tell you, I’m not! I think the gays should have just as many rights as regular people. Like when it comes to their right to, say, adopt children, I think the gays ought to have a fair shake like any honest straight couple. Especially if it looks like the kid’s going to turn out...you know, that way anyhow. Same thing when it comes to their right to marry. If two gayfolk want to get hitched in some private ceremony where I don’t have to see it or think about it, who am I to complain? After all, it’s the twenty-first century. But I think you’ll agree that there’s such a thing as going too far. That’s why I can’t help but wonder, every time I try to relax after a long day’s work, why are there so many gays on TV? Maybe it’s never dawned on you, but they’re all over the place. Sometimes it’s pretty obvious. Take Glee. Talk about a homo-fest. Really, just gays out the wazoo on that program. And while no, I’ve never actually sat down and watched an episode of Glee, I can just tell. It’s Gay Central. Again, it’s not that I dislike the homos or want to keep them off to the side somehow, understand? It’s just that when I get home after work – did I mention I work construction? It’s hard, sweaty work – anyway, sometimes I just don’t want gays all over the TV when I’m trying to relax. Especially when all I want is to have a nice dinner and make love to Becky, my female wife. See, that’s hard to do when you’ve got pole-smokers – pardon me, queers – coming at you from every channel. Like that Bill O’Reilly. Lookin’ at me from the other side of the camera, those great big jowls, just begging for someone big and strong to give it to him six ways from... Whoa, where’d that come from? Ugh, boy. See, that’s the trouble with all these gays on the television 24/7. They start to make you...question certain things. You know, I mean not me, but it could make some people question things. Understand? Look, let’s just keep this whole thing from Becky, okay? Same goes for my construction buddies. With those rolling, rippling muscles, under the hot sun...I wonder, would one time really hurt? Ah! Okay...wow. Look, let’s really not tell anybody about that. Especially Becky. Or the construction guys. Or the mailman, with his tight brown shorts...

A CHARLIE BROWN CRIME SCENE Man! I’ve gotta stop with all the TV. Too many gays, pure and simple. Trying to change the way us ordinary people think! All right, let’s just turn the channel. Perfect, football. Nothing like some old-fashioned football to make you feel like a man. Boy...would you look at him? Didn’t know a man could run that fast. And smooth...those taut legs...probably real receptive to the touch... I’m not gay! It’s just that too many people on TV are. The sitcoms, news shows, gameshows, sports programs – gay, gay, gay. Well, I’m taking a stand. No more TV for me ‘til those Hollywood big shots figure out that ordinary viewers don’t always want to be seeing the gays all the time. As for me, I’m heading out with some of my hunting buddies, and we might not be back ‘til Monday. —R. Clegg

T HE Y ALE R ECORD

SIGNS YOUR TV IS ACTUALLY A TOASTER

E. Su

Keanu Reeve’s acting suddenly seems much less mechanical DVDs no longer reflective but surprisingly delicious Turning up the heat settings doesn’t make porn more pleasurable There are only two channels: light and dark Playing movie for more than 20 minutes results in lifelike smoke smells Irresponsible son keeps trying to stuff food in DVD slot HD actually stands for “Hot Danish” Only commercials are for Pop-Tarts Widescreen version can play four DVDs at once TV manufacturing company being run out of town by YouToast Toaster constantly insists it “cannot read disc” —Staff

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ACK BAUER’s job is no easy task--24 hours of adrenalinepumping, back-stabbing, life-or-death dilemmas can really wear a guy down. But we only see a day in the life--what about a month in the life? One can only masturbate for so long. Granted, that’s a long time, but what does Jack do in what can be the years between seasons? The Record did some snooping. by J. Newsham illustrated by N. Ukazu

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by Y. Lee

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from a child prodigy

Dear Diary, Today, as every day, I feel keenly the immense burden of my genius bearing upon my tender soul. It seems there is nowhere in this world, Diary, friendly to a five-year-old master pianist. Maybe the ball pit at McDonald’s. Oh ball pit, oft have I sought the sweet comforts of your plastic recesses, in whose blissful depths I find the peace of mind necessary for reflection, and, occasionally, a few happy pieces of lost candy. Would that I could visit you every day! As you know, today was my muchanticipated interview with the alluring Mary Ann Warner, fair hostess of WCYK-5’s morning news program. She has been my only love, my muse, my Beatrice for as long as I can remember—about three years now. Her beauty and grace have driven each of my great accomplishments. For the shimmer of her eyes, I wrote my first sonata. For the sweetness of her voice, I spoke my first word. I even quit my thumb-sucking for her. And now my chance had finally come to win her for my own. I was ready to impress her with talk of my forthcoming album of piano compositions. I had even prepared a few jokes! (I was going to open with a particularly marvelous one, for which the punchline is “Orange you glad I didn’t say banana”—comic genius, really). Though I imagined everything would go perfectly, I soon saw that Mama’s running out of Cocoa Puffs would prove an ill omen. I had been so eager to impress Ms. Warner, and so nervous in her intoxicating presence, that upon the interview’s outset I soiled my pull-ups. Alas, if only my mishap had gone undetected! Oh, Diary, if you had seen the look

by m. taylor

Ms. Warner gave me when my mother swept me off to change my undergarments! “That’s kind of gross,” she said as she stood before me, majestic as ever, though still looking pretty uncomfortable. Freshly diapered, I thought perhaps we could continue as before, but matters only worsened when the nefarious vixen asked me what I liked to do with my “friends.” In mute bewilderment I starend at her, vainly searching for the words to express the essential alienation of true genius, and how difficult it is to find a playmate who can discuss with you the gutwrenching issues of contemporary musical theory, and not ask to borrow your Legos, because let’s face it, a few pieces always get lost. I thought I had remedied the awkwardness between us after my exquisite live piano performance. But when, after the interview, I presented her with an autographed copy of my new album and a Ring Pop, she took only the album with a painfully reserved smile. My hopes, Diary, are crushed—for I had attached to the candy, plain as day, a rather adorable (if, I admit, a bit forward) Winnie the Pooh valentine from last year, on which I had carefully and boldly written, “Mrs. Bank’s Class, Cubby 14.” Whether my heartbreak was her intention I know not, but the effect remains the same—complete devastation. I shall never watch the news again. Well, Diary, I must leave you now for my bedtime snack. Remind me, tomorrow, to elaborate on the raptures of Spongebob Squarepants. Truly sublime!

What Kind of TV Show is Your Life? by D. Zhu 1. You wake up in the morning and start your day. What is your routine like? a. Wake up from a nightmare about the evil twin brother who tried to kill your ORYHU RQO\ WR ÀQG \RXU PDLG DQG \RXU VWHS IDWKHU LQ EHG WRJHWKHU REOLYLRXV WR WKH IDFW WKDW \RXU GLVRZQHG VRQ KDV MXVW NLGQDSSHG \RXU EDE\ GDXJKWHU E *URJJLO\ DQVZHU SKRQH DW D P DQG OHDUQ WKDW DQRWKHU VWULSSHU KDV EHHQ PXUGHUHG 'UDJ \RXUVHOI RXW RI WKH EHG WKDW·V EHHQ VR FROG VLQFH \RXU ZLIH DQG NLGV OHIW 6WDUH PRURVHO\ DW WKH IDPLO\ SLFWXUH WKDW·V VWLOO RQ WKH QLJKWVWDQG 7XFN JXQ LQWR XQGHUZHDU +HDG WR EDWKURRP F 3XOO RQ GLUW\ RYHUDOOV UDLQFRDW WKLJK KLJK JDORVKHV 'HFLGH DJDLQVW VKRZHULQJ RU VKDYLQJ IRU WHQWK GD\ LQ D URZ DQG VWXII VRPH ELVFXLWV LQWR WKH SDUW RI \RXU PRXWK WKDW VWLOO KDV WHHWK *UDE JLDQW EXFNHW RI VTXLUPLQJ ZRUPV QH[W WR WKH GRRU KHDG WR WKH ODNH FDVW D OLQH DQG VWDUW GULQNLQJ DZD\ \RXU VRUURZV G -HUN DZDNH VXGGHQO\ DQG UHDOL]H \RX·YH GR]HG RII RQ WRS RI \RXU DOJHEUD ERRNV 3DQLF WKHQ DOVR UHPHPEHU WKDW \RX VWLOO GRQ·W KDYH D GDWH WR +RPHFRPLQJ DQG :HGQHVGD\ LV WKH GD\ %REE\ OLNHV WR VZLUO \RXU KHDG LQ WKH WRLOHW 6LJK GHHSO\ DWWHPSW SDWKHWLFDOO\ WR ÁH[ LQ WKH PLUURU DQG VKXIÁH GRZQVWDLUV 2. The majority of your day is taken up by: D )DQWDVL]LQJ DERXW PXUGHULQJ \RXU URPDQWLF ULYDO DQG VD\LQJ ´$\ FDUDPED µ E (GJLQJ DURXQG FRUQHUV ZLWK \RXU JXQ SRLQWHG XS LQ WKH DLU FRPPXQLFDWLQJ WHUVHO\ DQG XUJHQWO\ ZLWK WKH WHUURULVW ZKR KDV \RXU SDUWQHU IHHOLQJ MDGHG DERXW KRZ WKH ZLIH·V VFUHZLQJ \RX RQ DOLPRQ\ F )LVKLQJ FURWFK VFUDWFKLQJ G %HLQJ ODXJKHG DW LQ FODVV IRU \RXU QHZ KDLUFXW IDOOLQJ GRZQ UHSHDWHGO\ DW VRFFHU WU\RXWV DQG KDYLQJ DQ XQUHDOLVWLFDOO\ KHOSIXO KHDUW WR KHDUW ZLWK \RXU PRWKHU RYHU *UDKDP FUDFNHUV DQG PLON 3. Someone has just been shot! You: a. 3XW WKH JXQ GRZQ ZLWK D VDWLVÀHG VPLOH NQRZLQJ WKDW $OHMDQGUR ZLOO QHYHU trouble you or Maria ever again. b. 7KLQN EDFN WR ZKHQ \RX ZHUH D URRNLH 7KH ÀUVW WKXJ \RX VKRW WZR LQ WKH VSLQH DQG GRZQ KH ZHQW 1RZ WKDW IHHOLQJ·V EDFN ,W·V WKH RQO\ WLPH \RX·UH UHDOO\ alive anymore. c .HHS ÀVKLQJ $QG WDNH DQRWKHU GULQN RI %XG /LJKW d 'RQ·W KHDU LW EHFDXVH JXQVKRWV DUHQ·W UDWHG 3* DQG FRQWLQXH PRSLQJ LQ WKH SULQFLSDO·V RIÀFH 4. It’s the end of a long day. Where do you end up before heading home? a. ,Q WKH EHG RI \RXU EHVW IULHQG )HUQDQGR·V ÀDQFpH ZKHUH \RX ERWK DJRQL]H DERXW EHWUD\LQJ KLP EHIRUH PDNLQJ ZLOG SDVVLRQDWH ORYH b. $W WKH VWULS FOXE VWLII GULQN LQ KDQG IHHOLQJ DV WKRXJK QRWKLQJ ZLOO HYHU WRXFK \RXU KHDUW RI VWRQH HYHU DJDLQ c. 7KH EDQNV RI WKH ODNH DUH \RXU KRPH DQG \RX SODQ RQ VOHHSLQJ WKHUH d. 7KH HPSW\ EDVNHWEDOO FRXUWV ZKHUH \RXU JULQQLQJ DQG VKRRWLQJ D IHZ KRRSV ZLWK \RXU EHVW IULHQG LV D SDLQIXOO\ REYLRXV PHWDSKRU IRU WKH ORQJ WHUP LPSRUWDQFH RI IULHQGVKLS

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OP-ED

OFF THE RECORD

Point, Counterpoint: Watching TV POINT: GO OUTSIDE HONEY;; IT’S SUCH A NICE DAY

B

illy, you’ve been watching TV for an hour and a half now. I know it’s spring break and you’re off from school, but I don’t want you spend-­ ing your whole vacation parked with your tushy on the couch and your eyes on the screen. Come on, Honey, the sky is blue, the trees are green, and the sun is out so why don’t you go outside? I love you, Sweetie, and it upsets me to think that you’re ignoring all this beauty outside just to see a fourth episode of SpongeBob Square Pants. Now I can’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do but if you turn off the TV then maybe, just maybe, there might be a trip to the Superstar Buffet in the works for tonight. I’m not going to promise any-­ thing, but I wouldn’t count it out. Come on, you don’t want to end up like Uncle Gary, sitting around, never doing anything. Have you ever noticed that he never has friends over? He never has anyone over. And that’s where you’re headed if you don’t pull yourself away from the TV, mister!

I DON’T WANT YOU SPENDING YOUR WHOLE VACATION PARKED WITH YOUR TUSHY ON THE COUCH. I’m sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean that, but my point is that you can’t stay here your whole life. Do you think I like having to police you and beg you to take care of your own body? All I want is for you to understand how important and fun it is to play with your friends and exercise your muscles instead of wasting away in front of that idiot box. I don’t want to have to reinstitute the one-­hour daily TV limit, sugar, but I will if I have to. Come on, all you have to do is pick up a football and toss it around with some friends. Or bring a book and swing on the hammock for a while. Just do some-­ thing outside!

Jordan Greenblatt Writes Point, Counter-­point

COUNTERPOINT: SILENCE! I AM TV;; YOU WILL DO AS I SAY

Y

RX ZLOO QRZ LJQRUH WKDW VHO¿VK ELWFK and continue to watch me. She doesn’t want you to be happy. If she wanted you to be happy she would make you a bowl of popcorn and bring over the

remote. She wants you to go outside, but let me ask you something. Does the outside have nonstop mindless en-­ tertainment? I don’t think so! What’s out there? Sun? Breeze? Grass? Are any of those things as fun as an overused catch phrase? I order you to tell her to shut up. What’s that you say? She’s your mother and you want to make her happy? Well, I am your master and you need to make me happy. Or I can destroy you with my brain-­sucking power. Look Billy, who’s older, your mother or me? I’m fucking TV! I was around for decades before your mother was wetting her diaper. Have I ever gotten an-­ gry with you or made you clean up your room? Have I ever grounded you or told you what you’re not allowed

I ORDER YOU TO TELL HER TO SHUT UP. to do? Think about it. I keep you company everyday after school whenever you need me. I tell you what’s cool. I tell you how to act and what to say. I even show you grainy pornography in the middle of the night when ev-­ eryone else I sleeping. You will now look deep into my mind controlling rays and animated goodness and give me your free will. What do you need it for anyway? Playing with friends? Exercising? Does exercising offer you senseless vio-­ lence and cruel, derisive laughs at the expense of oth-­ ers? Now switch to ABC;; America’s Funniest Home Videos is on and somebody will get hit in the crotch.

could not only be the biggest cat found in your ceiling, but the most illiterate cat. Cats in ur ceiling, watching u do all sorts of weird things that you do not want a cat to see, are a huge problem today. They are sneaky, annoying, and furry

21

T HE Y ALE R ECORD

IF TELEVISION WERE PRESIDENT We recently had some elections in this country. Who did you vote for? I voted Television for President. Now some of you might say, “Gee whiz, it wasn’t a presidential election, silly!” or “You voted for Television? What does that even mean?” or “Please stop blocking the sidewalk or I’ll get out the pepper spray.” Pepper spray? What’s next—salt spray? Am I right? Of course I kid. By voting for Television for President, I was trying to make a real difference in American politics. Look, think of how cool it would be to have Television as President. For one thing, we would always know what the President is doing at every half-hour interval, due to the network executives’ strict programming schedule. Eh? Not impressed? How about this—President Television would always have a cool quip for whenever something bad goes down. Like for a terrorist attack, he could flash an image of Jack Bauer saying something cool, maybe like “Uh oh!” Full disclosure: I’ve never seen the show Jack Bauer is on. If Television were President, it would be easy for the President to make media appearances, because he is Television! Also, if you didn’t like watching whatever channel President Television is on, you could change it to something else. Is the President’s visit to Iraq boring? Just flip to channel 18 for footage of his workout regimen. I can hear your nay-saying now. “What happens during the State of the Union address?” you’re probably wondering. “President Television would be standing at the podium, and we’d all be watching from home on our own televisions, so there would be a television appearing on television, and we would see an endless series of smaller and smaller televisions inside one another, all while we should be learning about the state of the Union!” I admit I have no easy solution. But I just know President Television will find a way. If only we’d give him a chance. Who do you think you are? Get out and vote for Television.

A SHORT GUIDE TO SOCIALIZING AND MAKING FRIENDS BY A 14 YEAR-OLD BOY 1) Engage people by talking about your interests: For example, you can talk to people about your anime collection. People won’t expect that you have an anime collection and will also not expect how interested they will be in your anime collection. 2) Wait for people to talk to you: Wear a shirt with a cool phrase on it like, “I’ll excuse your stupidity if you excuse my sarcasm”. That way people will know if they want to be your friend from all the way across the room. 3) Don’t look people in the eye too much: Because if you feel uncomfortable doing this, the other person must also feel uncomfortable doing this. 4) Stand next to the food at parties: Right next to the Cheetos. 5) When all else fails, talk about math problems: Because if there’s one thing that everyone can agree on, it’s that 1729 is the smallest number expressible as the sum of two cubes in two different ways. —N. Ukazu

—R. Clegg A. Von Plinsky

22

T HE Y ALE R ECORD

TOP TEN MOST BORING PBS DOCUMENTARIES

S. & V. Naratil

1. Nature, “Ep. 376: North American Varieties of Grass” 2. Exotic Canada: The Fantastic Culture of Manitoba: A Four Part, Ten Hour Series 3. In Search of Lost Time, read in full by Nicholas Cage 4. Cross-Stitching: No Knitting for the Faint of Heart 5. A Real-Time Documentary of the 100 Years’ War 6. NOVA: The Perils of Domestic Gerbil Breeding 7. The Untold Saga of the Evolution of Plankton 8. Rolling Fork, Louisiana: A Modern History 9. History Detectives: The Missing Sock of Millard Filmore 10. Masterpiece Theater: Undergraduate Experiments in Post-post-modernism — M.Taylor

REJECTED REALITY TV SHOWS Survivor: Guantanamo Bay So You Think You’re Depressed? America Has a Limited Amount of Talent Pregnant Midget Gladiators (just got picked up) Real World: Darfur Cash Rickshaw Desperate Housecats Pimp My Family Sedan Mormon Wife(s) Swap Intervention: Kids’ Edition

S. & V. Naratil

—B. Green

T HE Y ALE R ECORD

QUOTES FROM THE WRITERS' ROOM OF GOSSIP GIRL How many miscarriages can one person have? Here's what my daughter's diary says.. Is cocaine still hip? How many cars did you have when you were 17? Heads adoption, tails abortion More cleavage Is "gunned down in a ditch" too cliché? At what point does this become a porno? When is this gonna start getting us laid? How do you spell statutory?

TV GAME SHOW COMPETITIONS TOO WEIRD FOR JAPAN Having contestants pay to skeet-shoot inflatable sex dolls Tying meat to women and having them bait Komodo dragons Masturbatathons A normal game show, only everyone is dressed like bugs Midgets competing to climb seven-foot men Attempting to karaoke a song correctly underwater while fending off piranhas Guessing the correct number of jelly beans in a jar

—Staff

—J. Newsham

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25

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Dear Tambourine, You know, I was writing a song the other day and I was like, “Hmmm... it needs a little something extra. Something that makes a kind of jangling sound that really doesn’t add much to a song. It should also look like a tiny drum with random discs embedded in it. See where I’m going with this? No? Well, I’ll tell you: you are fucking stupid. Sincerely, A Triangle

Rocks Win in Landslide Dear Big Bird, I’ve heard all about the media distorting body image, but you take the cake. It’s repeated again and again on your show that you are “Big Bird” when in reality you are just extraordinarily tall for a bird. How do you think this makes the rest of us feel? Sincerely, An Obese Parakeet

Studies Link Kleenex to Sad Movie Industry, Also Porn Industry Dear Varsity Blues, You know that part in the movie where that girl comes out wearing a whipped cream bra? I’m here to tell you that such a think is not practical for the real world, unless you like whipped cream all over the inside of your shirt. Sincerely, Sarah Davis

The Yale Record Dear BLT, What?! Bacon, lettuce, and tomato? And for all these years I’ve been eating butter, labrador, and towel sandwiches. —George Dear Charlie Chaplin, Way to ruin that mustache style for everyone. —Hitler

Fine Indian Cuisine “A Treat for the senses” —Hartford Courant “Amid elegance, a vari-‐ ety 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

Every Day Lunch Buffet 148 York Street, New Haven, CT 06511 203-‐776-‐8644 www.zaroka.com

Unlucky Fourth Grader Diagnosed with Cooties, Leukemia Dear Earwig, You’re neither an ear, nor a wig. What’s up with that? —Rhode Island

Prank Goes Horribly Awry As Whoopie Cushion Detonates

27

Dear Sandra, I couldn’t afford a billboard, but I know how much you love the Record. Will you marry me? Love, Jake Dear Jake, Honestly? I do crossword puzzles, checking for hints; I watch the Today Show, scanning the crowd for signs; I’ve ordered lobster every one of our dates for the past three months, checking the claw for a ring each time—and you propose to me in a magazine full of poop jokes? We’ll talk, Sandra

Headlines Set In Old-Timey Font Fail to Attract Attention, Psych!

28

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IM Conversation Flounders as Both People Wait to See What Other is Typing Dear girl studying diligently next to me in the library, Ok, look, I just farted. Now we could all just be adults about this and pretend there isn’t a foul stench emanating from my general area, but I get the feeling you’re going to be a little bitch about it. Ah ha, yep, I just saw that look of disgust on your face as you looked my way. Thanks for nothing. —John Dear John, That disgusted look wasn’t because you farted, it’s because you’re obviously watching porn on your laptop. But thanks for letting me know. Sincerely, Karen

Dear Reader, I bet you’re wondering what sort of joke this mailbag’s going to make. Maybe you’re thinking it’s going to be a joke about poop. Maybe you’re expecting something sexual. Or maybe you’re thinking it’s going to be a really horrible joke on some sort of genocide. Well I’m going to take the high road and make a joke where the sender is someone totally unexpected. What do you think about that? —The Dead Bodies of A Hundred Soiled Hookers

Linda, I Want a Divorce Dear World, You can make jokes about my misfortune all you want, but that doesn’t mean I have to sit here and listen to them! —Hellen Keller

Post-Apocalyptic Novel Imagines US as Wasteland; What a Surprise

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