April 1, 2022 (Vol. XXXIV, Is. X) - Binghamton Review

BINGHAMTON REVIEW Editor-in-Chief Contents

P.O. BOX 6000 BINGHAMTON, NY 13902-6000 EDITOR@BINGHAMTONREVIEW.COM

Founded 1987 • Volume XXXIV, Issue X Matt Gagliano

Managing Editor Madeline Perez Copy Desk Chief Joe Badalamenti

Business Manager Dillon O’Toole

Social Media Shitposter Arthur O’Sullivan

Editor Emeritus Jake Schweitzer

Staff Writers

THE UM, AKSHUALLYS OF UKRAINE

PAGE 8 3 4 6 7

Charles Forman Siddharth Gundapaneni Evelyn Medina

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Contributors

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Xanax Anaximander Gatt Magliano

Gregory Gardenhose IV Mirder O. Crows Leftus Turnus Special Thanks To:

Intercollegiate Studies Institute Collegiate Network Binghamton Review was printed by Gary Marsden We Provide the Truth.

He Provides the Staples

12 13 14

by Xanax Anaximander

Editorial

by Matt Gagliano Press Watch

by Our Staff Advice Column

by Madeline and Dillon How We Spent Spring Break

by Our Staff Rising Gas Prices Are Actually a Good Thing

by Gatt Magliano We Need World War III, NOW!

by Mirder O. Crows Sad Tire

by Leftus Turnus Harvey Doesn’t Real

by Gregory Gardenhose IV Help! I’ve Been Kidnapped by Binghamton Review!

by Madeline Perez

15 BONUS Advice Column Question

by Madeline and Dillon

TELL US WHAT YOU THINK! Direct feedback to editor@binghamtonreview.com 2

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Vol. XXXIV, Issue X

EDITORIAL Dear Readers,

From the Editor

W

aaaaaaahhh! WaaaAAAAhhhHHHHHHH! That was my impression of a sad tire. What do you think, pretty good, right? Now, as many people do after I speak, you may be thinking to yourself, “Why?” Well, that’s because you are currently reading the April Fool’s edition of Binghamton Retire. Congratulations, this is most likely the smartest decision you will make all day! Unlike the absolute CHILDREN that you may encounter out there in the wild today, this issue has no pranks, jokes, or fun in it. Everything in this issue is completely serious, and is in no way related to “satire,” only sad tires (see cover). Speaking of sad tires, that’s what Leftus Turnus wrote about on page 12. I wish I could give you a quick synopsis like I usually do, but I actually haven’t read it yet, so I can’t really do that. Now’s your chance, if you read the article before me, you will finally be superior to me in some way. Haha, April Fools! YOU WILL NEVER BE BETTER THAN ME IN ANY WAY, NO MATTER HOW SMALL, YOU INSIGNIFICANT WORM! Anywho, there are other articles in this issue that you should read, ones that I actually have read. Like “Rising Gas Prices Are Actually a Good Thing” by Gatt Magliano on page 10. This handsome and intelligent writer, who I definitely am not and have never met before, wrote a glorious article about why you should be happy about high gas prices. I don’t know who Gatt is, but I am certain that if I met him, I would not be able to resist having sex with him and his giant penis. I cannot imagine a more perfect human being, and my life would be complete if he so much as acknowledged my existence.

There are more articles in the issue, although they weren’t written by the world’s best human being, so I don’t know why you would read them. “We Need World War III, NOW!” by Mirder O. Crows on page 11 is pretty good, I guess. “Harvey Doesn’t Real” by Gregory Gardenhose IV on page 13, is also neat. It provides some pretty hard hitting evidence for a “conspiracy theory” that just may actually be true. Spoiler alert: like most “conspiracies,” it is. “The Um, Akshuallys of Ukraine” by Xanax Anaximander on page 8… Well, it exists! (Unlike “Help! I’ve Been Kidnapped by Binghamton Review!” by Madeline Perez on page 14, DO NOT read that one, it’s fake news).

Finally, I’d like to mention the fact that this is an issue of “Binghamton Retire” rather than “Binghamton Review,” this is because we are retiring after this issue! We hope you’ve enjoyed reading us over all these years. This is the last issue you’re gonna get, so if you didn’t enjoy any of the others, you better enjoy this one!

Sincerely,

Matt Gagliano Binghamton Review is a non-partisan, student-run news magazine of conservative thought founded in 1987 at Binghamton University. A true liberal arts education expands a student’s horizons and opens one’s mind to a vast array of divergent perspectives. The mark of true maturity is being able to engage with these perspectives rationally while maintaining one’s own convictions. In that spirit, we seek to promote the free and open exchange of ideas and offer alternative viewpoints not normally found or accepted on our predominately liberal campus.

We stand against tyranny in all of its forms, both on campus and beyond. We believe in the principles set forth in this country’s Declaration of Independence and seek to preserve the fundamental tenets of Western civilization. It is our duty to expose the warped ideology of political correctness and cultural authoritarianism that dominates this university. Finally, we understand that a moral order is a necessary component of any civilized society. We strive to inform, engage with, and perhaps even amuse our readers in carrying out this mission.

Views expressed by writers do not necessarily represent the views of the publication as a whole. editor@binghamtonreview.com

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CPampus resswatch “Jesus’ Size is Je-SUS” By Matt Gagliano, Binghamton Review, 2/16/22 “basically a small circle that has the taste of cardboard, and the texture of cardboard, and disintegrates in your mouth much like cardboard would when it gets wet.”

If it tastes like cardboard, feels like cardboard, and disintegrates like cardboard, it is probably just cardboard.

“Anyway, 52 Sundays times 3 masses gives us 156 masses in a year, which over 2022 years results in 315,432 masses since the death of Jesus Christ.”

Earlier in this very article you stated “I’m just going to assume that as soon as Ol’ Jeezy Boy died, they immediately started cutting his body into tiny circles for consumption” but then you proceed to use the current year as the amount of years the Eucharist has been taken. This completely disregards the fact that the year is not the time since Jesus has died but is instead the years since his birth.

“According to the Center for Applied Research in the Apostolate (CARA), as of 2018 there are 223,777 Catholic churches in the world.”

Throughout this article you have made very uneducated guesses for what you believe the numbers should be. This, however, is one of the most egregious errors as you use the number of churches in the modern day as the number of churches that have existed for 2000 years. This is not only a sin for the Catholic church, but more importantly it’s a sin to anyone who has taken a math class.

“Cardinal sins and the chocolate factory” By Madeline Perez, Binghamton Review, 11/17/21 “As someone whose sin is pride, Violet’s sense of superiority is almost as bad as

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Written by our Staff

We know you don’t read the other campus publications, so we did it for you. Original pieces are in quotes, our responses are in bold.

business majors’ when they try to tell me about investing…Funnily enough, she turns into a big blue ball—haunting the nightmares of assholes mad at their girlfriends for not putting out.”

You’re clearly showing your ignorance here. Being a business major is a lucrative investment that you clearly don’t understand. Investing itself is a science and once Dogecoin comes back and reaches a dollar I’ll be able to ruin your life with my huge money bags. Then me and Elon Musk will finally be able to meet up in his giant spaceship and hold hands while the earth full of stupid people explodes behind us. Also, having blue balls hurts like hell and it’s actually torture used in Guantanamo Bay, so I find it funny that you’re minimizing the lived experiences of others for a quick joke. Disgusting. It makes a lot of sense why someone would be mad at their girlfriend for PHYSICALLY HURTING them like that. And also like, if she’s your girlfriend, isn’t that like, her job?? You are a monster.

“In his infinite good-heartedness and stupidity, he resists and understands that since he has a secure attachment with his parents, he doesn’t really need much else to fill that hole.”

Huh. Kind of like how I filled your mom’s hole last night.

“The entire factory: a diabetes-inducing world masterfully orchestrated and controlled by Willy Wonka, propagated by slave labor, where children go to die.”

You say slave labor like it’s a bad thing?? It stimulates the economy!

You clearly have never taken high school economics.

“Boy, I wish I had a Club Office” By Madeline Perez, Binghamton Review, 10/27/21 “‘This is why only fools are heroes,’ Harvey Stenger taunted. He stood atop the Binghamton University Clocktower as I started to climb. In one hand, he held a wire suspending a dark green campus shuttle. In the other, he held our Bing Review EIC, Matt Gagliano, aloft by his neck. His mechanical, green, goblin-like suit gave him superhuman strength and augmented his evil nature.

The night breeze tossed my little gay windbreaker back and forth.”

I don’t believe that happened. That would have been on the news, or at least in Pipe Dream. “‘Stop!,’ I screamed. ‘We’re stealing ideas from Spider-Man. This amount of shameless plagiarism is sure to get us in trouble!’ He didn’t seem to hear and continued.’…Because you never know when some lunatic will come along

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BINGHAMTONREVIEW.COM with a sadistic choice.’ Matt grasps at the hand around his neck to no avail.

Harvey turned to Matt, pushing him farther off the weird clock tower beam, causing him to almost lose his size 11 footing. Harvey looks back at me, challengingly, eyes shining wickedly. ‘Let die the EIC from the club you’re a part of,’ I kept trying to climb the beams, despite the emotional pain. Harvey let some of the campus shuttle wire go slack. Immediately, screams were uttered that could only be paralleled to the sound of girls in elementary school when the teacher turned the lights off. ‘…or suffer the car deficient.’ The normies who ride the campus shuttle, because they’re too lazy to walk for some reason, were going ballistic in there–slapping the windows wildly like percussionists.”

Yeah that’s right, you are stealing ideas from Spider-Man (2002). In fact, what you are describing strongly resembles the scene where the Green Goblin (played by Willem Dafoe) suspends a cable car full of children as well as Peter Parker’s (played by Andrew Garfield’s) true love Mary Jane Watson (played by Kirsten Dunst) over a dizzying height, forcing him to make an impossible choice with and achieve an impossible solution. “‘Choose!’ he bellowed. The moonlight shone off his very bald head, temporarily blinding me. Suddenly, he released the campus shuttle and Matty boy at the same time. ‘NO!’ I rapidly started trying to climb back down the clock tower. Simply put, I did not feel good.

Suddenly, both the shuttle and Matt were suspended in the cool night air inside plasmatic red bubbles. I looked behind me, and what I saw shocked me to my core.”

This had better be good, because I don’t believe that this really happened.

“Sexy Baxter???”

PRESSWATCH only Sexy Baxter, you know, from the Binghamton Review Sex Issue: Godless Edition. Her double Ds were happily bouncing like baby bunnies in a field.

Harvey started to sweat, and his eyes darted rapidly. ‘What… what is this,’ he stuttered. ‘You’re not real. How could you possibly be real?’”

Ackshually, this is a stupid question, as none of this is real.

“With determination, I started climbing the beams again. There was hope, and she came in the form of a large-breasted anthropomorphic school mascot. She safely lowered the shuttle and ‘Matt’ to the ground. Matt fell limp like a stringless marionette: a spaghetti man.

The college students shuffled out of the bus and crowded around Sexy Baxter, showering her with hugs and kisses.

‘YOU’RE REIN OF TYRANNY IS OVER,’ Sexy Baxter cried. ‘NOW GIVE THESE FINE PEOPLE BACK THEIR CLUB OFFICE, OR FACE THE CONSEQUENCES!’” Your reign* “Stenger’s body language reflected that of a deeply insecure man. ‘But, there is no office,’ he muttered. ‘It has already been given to the sick for a place to quietly die away from the others. It’s been two years, you fools. You’ll never have a permanent office!’ Forgetting his circumstance, Harvey began to laugh maniacally, as he tends to do. While he was distracted, I reached the top of the clock tower. Quickly and dexterously, I snatched a five-dollar bill from Harvey’s pocket. ‘You’re right.’ I beamed, happy for the first time of the night.

Nothing can lighten the mood quicker than gaining the upper hand. ‘We won’t have a permanent office… not unless you give us one. And I have a feeling you will…’ I brought the five-dollar bill to my mouth, threatening to eat it.

‘Quite soon.’ Harvey fell to his knees.

And with that, the battle was over.”

OH COME ON!

This DEFINITELY didn’t happen, since you still don’t have an office.

“I couldn’t help grinning like a foolish little creature. It was the one and

“‘Thank you for your help,’ I glimmered, freshly down from the tower.

editor@binghamtonreview.com

Sexy Baxter stood confidently next to me. ‘How did you get here? I thought I created you?’ She laughed heartily. ‘You did create me. And it was the power of your belief that brought me here. But now that I have fulfilled my purpose and repaid my life debt, I must leave this university and pursue something greater; the likes of which I don’t exactly know.’ Bittersweet butterflies fluttered in my chest. ‘Will I ever see you again?’ I looked down at the ground, too emotional to face the eyes of my creation. ‘No,’ she responded. ‘But I will always be a part of you. In here.’ She gestured toward my chest. ‘My boobs?’

I asked. She looked me directly in the eyes, more intensely than anyone had ever done over the course of my entire life. ‘Yes,’ she responded. And with that, she left…never to be seen again. …Unless?”

UNLESS NOTHING!!! NONE OF THIS HAPPENED!!!! IT’S FAKE, JUST LIKE EVERYTHING ELSE IN BINGHAMTON REVIEW, ESPECIALLY THAT COCKAMANEY “ADVICE COLUMN” YOU KEEP PUBLISHING! “The Best Music of 2021” By Dillon O’Toole, Binghamton Review, 12/08/21 “For those of you who yearn for the return of progressive rock in the style of the 1970s, the band Evership is perfect for you. Their album, The Uncrowned King – Act 1, is a great example of modern proggressive rock.”

I don’t know how you did it, but you managed to spell “progressive” wrong less than one sentence after spelling it right. How are your editors this incompetent that they can’t catch a spelling mistake of this magnitude. I mean, the words are practically next to each other. I bet some of you think “business” is spelled wrong as well.

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ADVICE COLUMN

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Advice Column

By Madeline Perez and Dillon O’Toole

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offered to give you all life advice. These were your questions.

tum: if you have to fake one more orgasm you’ll drown your three children and dog in a nearby lake.

“When is Free Press’s sex issue coming out? Follow up question: do you think they haven’t released it yet because I told them I have a Bing Review fetish?”

“I constantly worry about my self image to the point where I find it hard to look into mirrors. Any advice on how I can escape my eternal state of self-hatred?”

To comment on the first question, the issue will come out when it is ready and willing to share that information publicly. This may never happen, as it fully depends on how comfortable the issue is with others knowing this information.

Onto the second question, I hope that is not the reason as that would be shamining your kink, which is never ok. Except when I do it. That’s right, armpit fetishists, you better run.

Just realize that self-hatred is just another form of narcissism and self-obsession. You need to re-adjust your sense of belonging– realize you need to believe in something greater than yourself. Maybe it’s your place in your community, and by interacting with others you feel like you have a secure role.

Maybe you are comforted by science, and firmly understand you are made of atoms that, upon your death, will return to the earth. Maybe you’re religious and believe your life is purposeful under god. Right now, it sounds like you don’t fully understand your place in life, so you are faulting things about yourself because you need something to blame. But you exist exactly the way you were meant to; there is nothing wrong with you or your life. You just need some greater purpose. Something to believe in. And that can be anything you want; it is your life after all. Once you do that, your preoccupation with your looks will dissolve away like sugar in a coffee cup. Unless you’re really ugly.

“Should I go back to brunette or dye my hair black with red highlights?”

Instead of either of these colors, you should instead dye your hair blue and yellow to show your solidarity with Ukraine in these trying times. Specifically, your hair should look like a Ukrainian flag, blue on top and yellow on the bottom. Don’t forget to post all about it on social media, along with all the donations to cold, starving Ukrainian orphans you totally made.

“Over spring break I went to Florida, and as is bound to happen in Florida, it downpoured, creating a new ocean within my shoes. These shoes now smell REALLY BAD, and I can’t seem to get the stink out. How do I make these shoes wearable again?”

Once shoes start to smell it means they are nearing the end of their natural life cycle, as all shoes do. The best thing you can do is let them go out with dignity and burn them in a small funeral pyre. That way the “sole” (hahahahahahahahahaha) can go to shoe heaven (sheaven) and live out the rest of their existence far, far away from your horrendous feet.

“What’s the secret to eating 20 bowls of cereal in 45 minutes?”

You don’t. Cereal makes you fat.

“I’ve been married for 10 years and have three beautiful children and a wonderful rottweiler. Sadly, my marriage has been on the rocks lately as my husband expects me to stay the same nimble teenager I was a decade ago. Now, he has given me an ultimatum that he will leave me in 2 weeks if I do not lose weight. I don’t think it is that crazy to ask as I have definitely put on some weight after that third baby girl. How do I lose 15 lbs? “ Why not lose the 200 lbs of husband? Give him an ultima-

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“Everyone always tells me that my interests are boring. What is an easy hobby that I can get into that will make me seem more interesting than I really am?”

Solving Rubix cubes really fast (also known as cubing, speedcubing, or speedsolving). Rubix cubing is the only hobby consistently pursued for the sole purpose of impressing other people. The nice part is that you don’t even have to be moderately cool, interesting, or smart to learn how to solve a Rubix cube. There’s a trick to solving it that you could probably look up on youtube and learn in a couple of hours. But, I’ll give you a fair warning: if you solve a Rubix cube in front of me I will see right through your farce and shake my head (SMH).

“Hi, I really like Binghamton Review and want to know more.

How can I read every single issue posted by Binghamton Review while still leaving time for schoolwork?”

This is easily done, my anonymous friend. Simply use your preferred method of accessing the internet, and go to binghamtonreview.com and all of our amazing articles will be at your fingertips. You can read them on the toilet after attempting to eat all that cereal, just so you don’t waste precious schoolwork time.

Need life advice? Email Manager@bingahmtonreview.com for more wacky, quirky, and zany responses.

Vol. XXXIV, Issue X

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HOW WE SPENT OUR SPRING BREAK

How We Spent Our Spring Break

By Our Staff

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ith Spring Break right behind us, you may find yourself wondering how the Binghamton Review staff spent their break. If you’re looking to compare your break to ours, don’t worry, we’ve got you covered. Here’s a list of 75 things that we did over Spring Break: 1. Cried 2. Spied on our neighbors 3. Did a handstand 4. Went somewhere warm 5. Made planes not plans 6. Played Elden Ring 7. Bashed head into a brick wall 8. Partied?

9. Realized our friends have different weeks off for spring break 10. Cried, again 11. Pet a dog 12. Pet a cat 13. Pet yourself ;) 14. Achieved some post nut clarity 15. Read a copy of Binghamton Review 16. Cried for the third time 17. Drugs (we could choose) 18. Drugs (now we couldn’t choose) 19. Got blackout drunk 20. Watched an Islanders game 21. Cried harder 22. Watched a NASCAR race 23. Enjoyed our nap 24. Questioned our life choices 25. Sent those questions to manager@binghamtonreview. com 26. Donated to a Ukrainian charity 27. Posted about how we donated to a Ukrainian charity on social media 28. Wore green 29. Pretended to be Irish for a day 30. Got beat up by an actual Irishman 31. Got beat up by an Irishwoman 32. Continued crying (if the injuries let us) 33. Took a shit 34. Returned the shit 35. Laughed in our younger siblings’ face when they asked for homework help 36. Assaulted our younger siblings 37. Went directly to jail, did not pass GO, did not collect $200 38. Pretended it was 4/20 when in reality it was 3/20 39. Polished our teeth collection 40. Hid the bodies 41. Ignored the police 42. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

editor@binghamtonreview.com

43. Stopped crying 44. Just kidding 45. Cried the hardest we’ve ever cried 46. Got some help 47. Realized bitches are better 48. Got bitches 49. Realized we can’t get bitches 50. Cried again 51. Remembered that we probably have homework to do 52. Went back to ignoring it 53. Went for a walk 54. Went for a run 55. Went for a sprint 56. Wentpher 57. Saw our family 58. Just kidding, locked ourselves in our rooms 59. Played Jenga 60. With a real building 61. Called it 9/12 62. Loved ourselves 63. Coped 64. Seethed 65. Gaslit 66. Gatekept 67. Girlbossed 68. Waited for 69 69. nice 70. Wrote an article for current Satire Issue of Binghamton Review 71. Played a game of Monopoly 72. Won Monopoly 73. Lost all our friends because of Monopoly 74. Realized Spring break is over 75. Cried

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THE UM, AKSHUALLYS OF UKRAINE

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The Um, Akshuallys of Ukraine

By Xanax Anaximander

F

elicitations, fellow felosofers, it is me, the sophisticated sophist Xanax Anaximander of Anaximander et nil., 2021, fame; since i proved in Anaximander et nil., 2021, that I’m Right and Your’e Wrong (Anaximander et nil., 2021), much has happened in my academic career—after the bigot Sean Harrigan personally took it upon themself (I do not know their gender for sure, hence my use of the plural singular they, in order to counteract the hegemonic cisheteropatriarchy that “he” so propounds) to commit VIOLENCE against our salubrious sociology professor Ana Maria Candela, she has gone into hiding in order to combat the shadow of the white man from the shadows, like the League of Shadows from Batman (speaking of which, it was SO BRAVE for Matt Reeves to call out the WHITE PRIVLIGED ASSHOLES that dominate the society we live in through Catperson in The Batman, 2022, like the devilish white man, Sean Harrigan), and I have been appointed to take her place, but only by assuming her identity and appearance in secret (dont tell anyone).

(A pictorial representation of Xanax Anaximander)

In the meantime, I have been closely following the socially-constructed dispute between the social construct commonly known by the white man’s “west” as Ukraine and the social construct commonly known

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by the white man’s “west” as Russia.

Heretotherefore, I endeavor to present the perennial praxis of the post-structural world through the context of the oppressions that take place ‘twixt the social constructs in question in a postmodern paradigm. For your consideration, I, that is the heretofore aforementioned phenomenon (Anaximander et nil., 2021) as mentioned above with reference to me, expose three discursive metanarratives that surround the dispute: with respect to the liberal, the other with respect to the conservative, and to the third, the “centrist,” each being socially constructed by the leftist (the obviously right position, that is to say, my own— see (Anaximander et nil., 2021; 2022)).

The Liberal

Umm, akschually… PUTIN IS LITERALLY VOLDEMORT AND UKRAINE IS LITERALLY HOGWARTS AND JOE BIDEN IS LITERALLY DUMBLEDORE AND ZELENSKYY IS LITERALLY HARRY POTTER AND… Sorry, I, uh, got a little excited there—I just get so Faucing excited when I see the stunning and bravery of Ukraine on Instagram. I can’t wait until they, the scrappy underdogs, win the war against the empire (Russia), like the ewoks against the empire from STAR WARS EPISODE VI: RETURN OF THE JEDI! But this time Emmanuel Macron is Luke Skywalker fighting against Putin, who is basically Darth Vader and the Emperor combined (!)

in the evil throne room with the big table. But I still can’t rest: after all, aiding Ukrainian resistance is critical to defeating Putin, so I MUST put the eternal blue and yellow flag on my twitter and tweet SLAVA UKRAINI every five seconds, or else people will think I’m a LITERAL NAZI. Remember to donate to pro-Ukraine charities, which I’ve totally done.

Also, while we’re at it, WHY IS RUSSIA STILL IN NATO?! WHY HASN’T PRESIDENT BIDEN POSTED SOMETHING ON HIS TWITTER ABOUT BANNING PUTIN YET?! COULD HE, TOO, BE WORKING WITH PUTIN?! No, it can’t be— he defeated Tr*mp, who “put children in cages, tried to repeal the Affordable Care Act, and showed the ugly face of capitalism at every turn” (McAwful et nil., 2021). DRUMPF IS THE ONE WORKING WITH PUTIN, just look at what the MAGA chud says later in the article!

You know what, I’m coming out… Two years ago, I came out as a Cuomosexual, just like Trevor Noah, because of Andrew Cuomo’s HEROIC war against the PANDEMIC THAT WE’RE STILL LIVING UNDER TODAY, AMERICA (get boosted), but unfortunately he was literally a garbage human being, and since I BELIEVE ALL WOMEN, I can not identify with my Cuomosexuality anymore. For that reason, I will officially identify myself as ZELENSKYYSEXUAL from now on. Not only do I want him to take my own quivering body, but also my wife’s and her boyfriends’, and EVERYONE ELSE’S—he deserves all the sexual gratification (from my point of view, the only real gratification) in the world, meaning he literally CAN NOT sexually harass anyone.

Unfortunately, Ukraine is far from perfect: after all, I’m seeing VERY FEW soldiers and civilians wearing masks, and a similarly small number who have been boosted! This is a true tragedy, as without them, the PUTIN VARIANT of COVID-19 will spread

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BINGHAMTONREVIEW.COM like wildfire through their ranks, killing 98% of them. Also, my SCIDENCE has shown that KN95 masks and the Pfizer vaccine are safe and effective against debris of civilian shelters created by Russian shelling!

BUT STILL RUSSIA IS WORSE! They’re KILLING CIVILIANS! Um, Iraq War anybody? Russia is almost as bad as the U.S. under a Republican presidency! Due to the trillions of civilians MURDERED by Putin, including billions of BIPOC, birthing bodies, and trans people (Anaximander et nil., 2021), I am now shaking harder than I was on January 6, 2021! I literally can’t anymore! I’m going to watch the Harry Potter movies to relax (I do love being around unsupervised minors). BUT FUCK J.K. ROWLING, that TRANSPHOBE is allowing the MASS MURDER of LGBTQQIP2SAA+ people in Texas and Florida! What was I angry about again?

The Conservative

Umm, akshually… it’s our fault for expanding NATO into Eastern Europe and there is a Russophobic genocide of Russians going on in Ukraine and I can prove it because it has neo-nazis in it and Zelensky is not a paragon of democratic values and why should we care what goes on outside our borders and so Russia deserves to take over Ukraine.

See, since I spoke in a calmer and somehow more arrogant tone of voice than the libTM up there, I automatically win the argument. Anyways…

ZOMG I LOVE PUTIN HE’S SO BASED AND TRAD DEFENDER OF THE WEST!!11!1 LIBERALISM FAILED AND NOW WE NEED TRUE,

editor@binghamtonreview.com

THE UM, AKSHUALLYS OF UKRAINE POPULIST, ILLIBERAL DEMOCRACY TO SAVE US FROM DEGENERACY!!!! PUTIN IS REUNITING THE SOVIET UNION BUT IT’S TOTALLY NOT COMMUNIST THIS TIME I SWEAR; DEMOCRATS ARE THE REEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAALLLLLL COMMUNISTS!!!!11!1 What’s that? Russia has some of the lowest Church attendance rates and highest abortion rates in the devoloped world? Nahh, man, that’s western propaganda. That’s just the media trying to spin a narrative against the true basedness of Putin’s Russia. Just listen to my trad-conservative ally, Glenn Greenwald. I used to hate him, but since God-Emperor Trump came into power, I love to hear him talk about neoliberals controlling the media to discredit Russia. It’s on RT, my new favorite news source (unlike the LEFTIST MEDIA).

Sure Russia has its problems, but have you seen the ABSOLUTE STATE of the west these days? Imprisoning journalists is LITERALLY NOTHING (and in fact, based and redpilled) compared to BOYS WEARING DRESSES AND PEOPLE WATCHING PORN!!!1!!!

I WAS ONCE A TRAD-CATHOLIC BUT BECAUSE POPE FRANCIS IS A HERETIC ACCORDING TO MY YOUTUBE SOURCES I AM LITERALLY CONVERTING TO EASTERN ORTHODOXY TO ESCAPE THE CHAOTIC INVERSION OF WESTERN VALUES BY THE ROOTLESS COSMOPOLITAN CABAL OF PEDOPHILES THAT RULED THE LIBERAL NEW WORLD ORDER SINCE WORLD WAR II!!!1!!

Trump was our only real hope to destroy the NWO that created all of these problems, but then the election was stolen from him, and the media suppressed the story, just like they did with the HUNTER BIDEN LAPTOP STORY!!! OH YEAH MARK ZUCKERBERG, KEEP ME BANNED ALL YOU WANT!1!1!!! YOU CAN’T SUPPRESS THE TRUTH FOREVER!!1!!

Unfortunately, I can’t say anymore on this platform, or else I will get deplatformed by Jen Psaki. Check me out on Parler, Bitchute, and Ruqqus (username THE_TRQE_TRQTH-

SEEKER1488008135 where I am TRULY FREE to spread the truth without fear of the glowing government agents shutting me down!!!1! (Anaximander et nil., 2021).

The Centrist

Umm, akshually… there is literally no difference between Russia and Ukraine. I will now proceed to moan as I ejaculate with the euphoric self-satisfaction of my enlightenment… breathes *ooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOooooOoOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGgggggggggggggggggGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhHHHHHHHHHHhHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH* (Anaximander et nil., 2021)

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RISING GAS PRICES ARE ACTUALLY A GOOD THING

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Rising Gas Prices Are Actually a Good Thing

By Gatt Magliano

W

hether you yourself drive or you’ve simply heard non-stop complaining from those in your life who do, you most likely know by now that gas prices are skyrocketing. From hovering around $2 per gallon just a few years ago to $4.39 per gallon just a few days ago, many are disgruntled about having to fork over their life savings for just a few poots of gasoline. I’ve been affected myself, looking at the $65 I just spent refilling my car with driving juice, reminiscing about the good ol’ days when I could get a full tank for $30. Ahhhhh… good times.

But what if I told you that this increase in wallet suction at the gas pump wasn’t necessarily a bad thing? What if I told you that, while nobody’s happy about spending more money, the benefits of high gas prices actually outweigh the costs? Well, that is exactly the case, so strap in, “dear” readers, because by the time this article is done you’re going to wish that the Russia-Ukraine war will never end. You know, so the gas prices keep getting higher.

“And I don’t want to hear any of that ‘it’s good for the environment’ nonsense! I don’t care if it ‘slows global warming’ or ‘makes the air easier to breathe.’ That stuff is boring, overused, and pales in comparison to the other benefits.”

Let’s start with a simple cause and effect, shall we? Rising gas prices will lead to less driving, as people will not want to waste gas, because they would then be wasting quite a bit of money.

Now we can look at all of the benefits that less driving provides. And I don’t want to hear any of that “it’s good for the environment” nonsense! I don’t care if it “slows global warming” or “makes the air easier to breathe.” That stuff is boring, overused, and pales in comparison to the other benefits.

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“An InCrEaSe In WaLkInG Or BiKe rIdInG WiLl MaKe PeOpLe HeAlThIeR.” BAH! Garbage! Trash! Rubbish!

Another synonym! Try thinking with your big boy brain for once! What good things could possibly come from having to pay more to drive places? That’s right, the more expensive gas is, the less likely it is that poor people will be driving to public places. I’ve got to say, it is so damn refreshing to walk around in public and not see any poories taking up space. It heals my soul that after trading away my firstborn son for a tank of gas, I can then drive away and know that the only people waiting for me at my destination are also sonless.

God, I hate children. Almost as much as I hate poor people, which is why it’s so great that I rarely have to see them anymore.

“What’s the one thing that you think about and you’re like ‘damn, we really need more of that in our world.’

That’s right, parking spots on campus!”

Now, what if I told you that fewer poor people in public spaces was just the tip of the iceberg? It sounds too good to be true, right? Could there possibly be another benefit to high gas prices, and one that’s better than less poor people at that? Well, try not to cream your pants when I tell you this, but there is. I want you to try and think of this one on your own. Come on, you can do it. What’s the one thing that all of us desperately need? What’s the

one common cause that we can all get behind? What’s the one thing that you think about and you’re like “damn, we really need more of that in our world.”

That’s right, parking spots on campus!

With gas prices so high, many college students will not be able to afford to drive to class every day. This is because most college students are poor. Cringe, I know. However, if fewer students are driving to campus, that means that fewer parking spots are being taken up, leaving more available for those of us based enough to realize that high gas prices are good. No longer are the days of driving around campus for 45 minutes to find a parking spot. No longer are the days where I physically cannot go to class because there are literally no parking spots available.

“God, I hate children. Almost as much as I hate poor people, which is why it’s so great that I rarely have to see them anymore.”

The higher gas prices go, the closer we get to the ideal society, one in which no one ever has to wonder whether or not they can park on campus! One in which no one goes hungry… for an open parking spot! One in which all people are equal… in their chances of finding a parking spot… because that chance is always one hundred percent!

Ladies and gentlemen, I hope now you see, just how perfect things could be, if we would only let the gas prices rise to infinity.

Vol. XXXIV, Issue X

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WE NEED WORLD WAR III, NOW!

We Need World War III, NOW!

By Mirder O. Crows

I

have something that I’ve been thinking about for a while now, and it desperately needs to be said: we don’t WANT a World War III. “Wanting” implies that it is probably unnecessary, and something that could be postponed until the time is right. No, we don’t “want” World War III; we absolutely NEED World War III! This has been the long-awaited sequel to human catastrophe that has been riling up historians’ pants in a twist for so long that the anticipation itself is practically killing me, as I’m sure it’s killing you too! So what are we waiting for?

We have the perfect situation, right now! All the United States needs to do is declare war on Russia and we’ll finally complete the trilogy! Isn’t that what we all want? Yeah, the writers of this show have always found an excuse to pull out of World War III; a little diplomacy here, a little convenient plot hole there, perhaps some perfectly timed thinking by individuals. To most people, it would seem like the writers of the show want genuine world-building instead of going for all-out action. But I say who cares about world-building! Make it rain nukes until the earth looks like a Michael Bay movie!

FoR tHoSe Of YoU tHaT dOn’T kNoW, let me give a brief rundown of the first two classics of this show’s history. First, the OG: World War I. With impressive, unstoppable alliances, new technologies, brash military leaders, and overly eager soldiers, everyone was practically dying when the carnage started. With so many twists and turns, no one knew where the story would go, almost like it was practically a stalemate right until the US joined! Then came the sequel; after about 20

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years, the writers brought World War II, even better than the first; clear good guys and bad guys, crazy/genocidal world leaders, and now taking place in almost every part of the world, this sequel truly lived up to the “World War” aspect of the title. Still, we gotta talk about the one controversial plot point: the United States creating the atomic bomb and dropping two of them on Japan to end the war. Yeah, it was crazy and destructive like nothing we had seen at that point, but this choice really bothered me. I mean, with a McGuffin like that, how could we have a sequel? Throughout World War II, we are shown tension between the Communist Soviet Union and Capitalist West. Surely, the Soviets would want their own nuclear weapons, right?

And sure enough, not long after, they did. After that epic show, the writers reached an impasse, as there was no

“Russia committing war crimes won’t cause nuclear conflict, as war crimes are just brought up by the writers but have surprisingly little impact in most cases.” way they could match the magnitude of World War II. Sure, we had a few spin-offs with ideological proxies; the Korean War, the Vietnam War, and the Soviet-Afghan War (although there’s a great twist there that comes up in the War on Terror).

But these spinoffs never really lived up to the same potential.

N o w , however, we have the perfect opportunity! Russia just invaded

a sovereign country, Ukraine, and it is perfect sequel material. True, the justification requires the biggest suspension of disbelief possible, as it just seemed like the writers half-assed telling Putin to give a bullshit casus belli, but who cares! And yes, the writers seem to be raising the stakes by having Putin threaten to use his nuclear arsenal for the first time in a long while.

This is practically everything followers of the show have been waiting for!

Now, all we need to do is find the perfect excuse to cause nuclear weapons to be dropped everywhere! Some have proposed a no-fly zone over Ukraine as a catalyst, as that would mean that the opposing faction to Russia, NATO, would have to shoot down Russian fighter jets, and that would obviously trigger confrontation. A good start, but we could do better. Perhaps having Russia strike humanitarian corridors would draw NATO in? Maybe… actually no; Russia committing war crimes won’t cause nuclear conflict, as war crimes are just brought up by the writers but have surprisingly little impact in most cases. Honestly, at the way things are going, the writers just need to find an excuse to cause nuclear armageddon!

So what are they waiting for!?

Come on, guys! This is something we truly want! Just have the United States declare war on Russia and get this over with! It’ll be the end of the trilogy and it’d be an absolute killing! Just have everyone use their nuclear arsenal that the writers have been teasing us about for 75 years and get World War III rolling! It’s something all fans of the show have been waiting for and simply NEED for finality’s sake. Let us just finally have the long-awaited end to the trilogy that we have been hyped for!

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SAD TIRE

Sad Tire

By Leftus Turnus

I

t’s that time of year again, the time of year when we all remind ourselves of all those sad, abused tires.

Typically, these reminders come about while watching TV, when those black and white commercials show tires being beaten, abused, and not properly maintained by their owners while some famous celebrity tries to guilt you out of your hard-earned money over a sad backing track. Man, I hate those commercials, like why does this rich person think they have the right to get paid to guilt us out of our money. Yeah, I feel bad for those tires, but I watch TV to escape from the horrors of modern life, so use your own money if you care so much you rich fucks!

What was I talking about again? Oh right, sad tires. Today I plan to discuss the state of those oh so very sad tires, how they may end up in these abused situations, and how you can help them without giving your hard-earned money to a charity that may or may not be a scam.

“Firstly, if you were confused about the word ‘treads’ I used in the last sentence, you should probably replace your tires immediately as you have been artificially keeping your current tires alive for so long that they have been screaming for death internally.”

The life of a tire is all about providing its owner a safe and efficient means of travel, and as a result of this relationship, many owners of tires forget that they too have to take care of their round friends. This is a problem that is not limited to just a domestic setting, professionals may also forget about, or refuse to acknowledge, the well-being of our rubbery friends.

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But before we delve into these socalled “professionals” and how they treat tires, let’s talk about the regular people who are totally inept at taking care of their treads. Firstly, if you were confused about the word ‘treads’ I used in the last sentence, you should probably replace your tires immediately as you have been artificially keeping your current tires alive for so long that they have been screaming for death internally. Outside of the morons who don’t realize that regular road tires aren’t supposed to look like racing tires, an easy way to take care of your tires is to routinely check their air pressure to make sure they are at the proper levels. According to jdpower.com (you know, the company that every single car manufacturer seemingly claims to have earned awards from for several years in a row), improper air pressure can increase the chance of a flat tire or blowout, decrease your fuel mileage, and can worsen handling of your motor vehicle. Now how can your rubbery friends help you if you refuse to help them? Outside of making sure the air pressure is proper, it is also important to check the treads of the tire as I alluded to earlier. While the truly stupid will wear their tires down until the treads don’t exist, those who wish to take proper care should check to make sure that the treads aren’t wearing down unevenly and that treads aren’t getting too worn down.

Now let’s move on to tire abuse in professional settings. Firstly, I am going to comment on the fact that tires in motorsports aren’t abused simply by racing them as the compound within the tires does not last nearly as long as the tires on-road vehicles. Much like comparing a hamster to a cat, proper care isn’t indicated by how long of a lifespan your tire may have. One example of tire abuse in motorsports would be tire wars. What is a tire war you may ask? Well, it’s certainly not your elected representatives sending your children off to fight a war over oil.

A tire war is, in fact, a period of time

in any motorsport where two competing brands of tires are being used by the same series at the same time. Two famous examples of tire wars would have to be Goodyear vs. Hoosier in NASCAR and Bridgestone and Michelin in Formula 1. In both cases, the integrity and safety of the racing events and the tires themselves were put into question. In the case of NASCAR’s most famous tire war, tire failures became more common and as a result injuries of drivers also increased.

This culminated in the deaths of two drivers during Daytona Speedweeks in 1994, which was initially blamed on the Hoosier tires but was later proven to have a different fault. In Formula 1, the tire war led to the catastrophic 2005 US Grand Prix, which, as a result of Michelin providing unsafe tires, saw only six cars start the race (out of the twenty entered). As a result this race, and by extension the tire war, is largely blamed for the lack of US interest in Formula 1 for many years. To wrap up this section of professional abuse of tires, I am going to discuss how teams may improperly install tires throughout a race. If teams fail to secure the lug nut (or nuts) of a tire, it may fall off during the race causing an accident that is entirely due to human error but is still somehow blamed on the tires.

As a whole, the professional abuse of tires tends to come from some kind of human interference, causing more psychological harm on top of physical harm to tires.

In closing, remember to take care of your own tires. If you do, there is no reason to feel guilt from those commercials as you are doing the best you can with what you are able to take care of. Remember, too many people in a life raft cause everyone to sink. Also, make sure you avoid using slurs about those sad tires. Some people seem to think using the term “satire” (I hate having to write it down) in the modern-day to refer to depressed tires is still acceptable when it is most certainly not.

Vol. XXXIV, Issue X

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Harvey Doesn’t Real

HARVEY DOESN’T REAL

By Gregory Gardenhose IV

F

or the past 6 years, our democracy has been in peril by the forces of evil. Among these forces is misinformation spread by white supremacists and neo-N*zis. You are doing a good deed by exposing yourself to our unbiased and reputable news written by me, a certified expert in news and information. As you know, misinformation has run rampant not only across this college campus but all throughout the continental United States. As students at the premier public ivy, it is your’e responsibility to not only educate youre’ self, but also correct all instances of misinformation. Looking back at everything, I still see people talking about “Harvey Stenger”. Ummm, akshully this doesn’t make any sense because Harvey isn’t real.

Yeah, you heard that right. Harvey, President of Binghamton University, is in fact, not real, a fiction, a myth, pure hogwash. While some of the high IQ individuals have caught on to this fact, the silent majority still clings to Harvey like a Trumper clings to his 90s gas-guzzling pickup truck (compensating much?). This may leave you with many questions. How is Harvey not real? Why is Harvey not real? When is Harvey not real? Do not worry, as I shall answer all of these questions (starting with the last one as Harvey was never real).

Upon researching the past of Binghamton University through Pipe Dream archives, I was able to find the following.

Back in the mid-2010s, Binghamton’s former president, Howard Buchanan, passed away. While the event was very tragic, during the autopsy, multiple pounds of marijuana were found hidden in his office. This left SUNY B with a dilemma: come clean about the scandal and lose precious crumbs of reputation, or deny any association with weed and give credibility to the stoner crowd and their quest to expand the nature preserve.

It was a lose-lose for the administration, however, they were determined to escape this controversy clean. During a secret council in the depths of Bartle library, administrators gathered to determine a plan to save BU from the media and the stoners.

Thus Harvey Stenger was created. The plan was simple. During the chaos of the incident, announce that the vacancy for the presidency was filled by a “candidate” by the name of “Harvey Stenger”. Have him give a speech discussing unity and hope and change. Then everyone would forget about the scandal as the 24-hour news cycle continued. From there, Harvey would need only to make sporadic appearances for commencement, and for miscellaneous events to boost the egos of selective groups. It was almost successful. Until a young aspiring journalist, Myself :), uncovered these secrets and now are unloading them to you.

But Gregory, you may ask, Harvey has to exist, I’ve seen him, talked to him, touched him, he is clearly real. He is not real; what you witnessed is just the product of modern technology. While it may appear that there are at least hundreds of pictures of the Harv widely available, these are all just photoshopped. Every picture, every group photo, every cover of Binghamton Review, all modified through the use of photo editing technology. If you look closely at these pictures, you will find that the pixels of the skin, eyes, hair, and other constants

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vary from picture to picture. Clearly, this is evidence of photo editing at work. Some are even inconsistent in terms of facial features which points to some pretty sloppy work. But who is creating all of these photoshops? Russian bots! Need I say more? As for the matter of Physical appearances made by the Stengster, clearly, these aren’t photoshopped. However, there is a much similar explanation here: it’s just someone in a costume.

Yes, much like Santa, the Easter bunny, and Tom Hanks, the “Harvey” we witness in person is just someone in a mask and bodysuit. But who is playing the role of Harvey? Russian Bots people!

So far I have provided evidence after evidence that Harvey is misinformation. However, as an aspiring journo, I, Gregory Gardenhose IV, am satisfied with nothing less than the truth.

And so I began my journey to the Bartle library undergrounds at 3 AM to find the truth. After searching for about 21 minutes, I found my first clue; A fake door that blends into the concrete.

Upon going through the door, I had arrived at the Bartle back rooms: a maze-like area where BUs deepest secrets lie. In the backrooms, I took the following path: straight, then right, right, left, right, left, left, right, right, right, and left. At the end of this path, I found myself at a locked door with a 9 digit keypad lock.

From my previous research, I was able to guess the correct passcode of 800813569. Behind that door, was a treasure trove of secrets, I saw it all: the photoshop PCs, the bots, the Harvey costumes, the sex toy collection—it was all real. Finding all that evidence was too much for me; I fainted shortly after. I woke up the next day in my dorm as if nothing happened. I must have been found by security and carried back home. Thankfully, those goons couldn’t erase my memory which brings us to the present. Thus I bring you concrete proof that “Harvey” doesn’t real.

I would like to end the report with a reminder of who the real victims of this misinformation are: Us! The brave journos who sacrifice life and limb to give the public the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. I hope that one day, I can live in a world where my wife’s children can live a life free of misinformation, and the hatred, bigotry, and evil that it produces. Until then, I’ve got my own work to do, and I hope you’ll continue to do your part and stop the spread of this pandemic of misinformation.

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HELP! I’VE BEEN KIDNAPPED BY BINGHAMTON REVIEW!

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Help! I’ve been kidnapped by Binghamton Review!

By Madeline Perez

W

alking back from Binghamton University’s West Gym, I reeked of chlorine and resembled a drowned rat. I often wondered why the swim club decided to run practices until 11 PM. Back then, it was best not to question things. My flip-flops flip-flopped like the independent percussionists they were, repeatedly hitting the pavement like one would hit a disobedient wife who just made tuna casserole for the third time this week. Looking up at a dark starless sky, I paused. “Why are there no stars in Binghamton? Is this a sign? Am I, too, destined to lose my celestial shine?” Suddenly, I, in my isolated womanly vulnerability, was ambushed by none other than a gang of white supremacists. They snuck up behind me, silent as ghosts, and put an eyeless Klansmen hood over my head.

Pulling me backward, I was swiftly knocked unconscious. Everything went white…

“Now, if you’ll excuse us, we plan to extract the crack they put in Panera Mac and Cheese and give it to underprivileged inner-city children. All part of our plan to start the War on Drugs 2.”

When I awoke, I was in a damp cement room, shackled to a desk.

Posters of Hitler and Ronald Reagan were everywhere. A single Edison bulb burned close to my head, the buzz barely obscuring the sound of rodents chewing through the walls. Suddenly, I recoiled in fear. On the desk laid a single Chromebook. I wailed incoherently to myself in utter pain and misfortune; why would I be subjected to such a shitty computer?! My wailing was cut premature by an omnipresent voice. “Welcome. This is the Binghamton Review office. You will be our newest writer… that is, if the rats don’t get to you first. Heheh.” I gasped. “God? Is

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that you? Shit, if this is about all those movies I pirated I-” The voice rang strong again, interrupting me, misogynistically. “No. Not God- praise be to him. Gahhh, never mind this speaker system. We’ll be right there.”

My certified superior hearing caught the cascading metallic footsteps slinky-ing down the stairwell.

Five men. Around 140 lbs each according to those footsteps... White. As the commercial door knob turned, I could almost smell the hair grease and gamer language I was about to encounter.

They piled in the room like rabid sharks, each head protruding from the body in such a right angle as to demonstrate the many hours hunched over a computer browsing 4chan message boards. Their alabaster skin caught the light so distinctly that it seemed almost translucent.

Finally, their leader stepped forward and spoke. “Your first article is due by tomorrow. 700-900 words. Don’t keep us waiting, or else you’ll get three days water deprivation.”

I opened the laptop and began a google doc with amazing finesse.

“What am I writing about? Holocaust denialism? The threat of feminism on maternal home-cooked dinners?

They/them potato head?” The group laughed in a hypnotic unison. “No,” spoke their leader. “You can leave those to us. You can write about whatever you want.”

I guffawed. “Really? Even after all the time I spent thinking up One Pill, Two Pill, Red Pill, Blue Pill? Why even kidnap me in the first place?”

The leader did a joker laugh.

“Don’t you see? We want to use you for your overlapping minority statuses. How could anyone possibly call us sexist with a woman writer? Your increasingly potent influence will quell all accusations of homogeneity… and one day, when you are in charge, we will finally be able to deliver the farright messaging the world so desperately needs.”

I responded by imitating the face

of the thinking emoji. “Um. I can’t help but notice some flaws in your plan. People can most definitely still think you’re sexist with one woman in your club. Also, if I, and other people, can write whatever we want and the magazine is shaped by us, then what’s to keep us from stopping the flow of white supremacist juice to the reader base? And what do you mean I’ll be in charge? And including me because I’m in a minority group? Doesn’t that go against your principles? Are you guys even white supremacis-” “STRAWMAN!” The leader seemed red in the face and ready to shoot up some concert or movie theater. “This is a debate and I’m winning.

Now get to work. We aren’t paying you to sit there and look like a 4 at best.”

“But you aren’t paying me at all,” I interjected.

“Exactly.” He responded curtly.

“Now, if you’ll excuse us, we plan to extract the crack they put in Panera Mac and Cheese and give it to underprivileged inner-city children. All part of our plan to start the War on Drugs 2. Good day.” With that, as silently as they had entered, they left again, shutting the door with one last metallic clang-smash.

Thus began my involvement with Binghamton University’s most bigoted club. I remained chained to that desk to this day, being fed salad, yogurt, and other foods they assumed only women can eat. Please rescue me. I feel trapped by a responsibility I cannot neglect. It’s not always so bad, but day by day, hour by hour, I can feel it worsening.

I’m becoming one of them.

And it feels good.

Vol. XXXIV, Issue X

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BONUS ADVICE COLUMN QUESTION

BONUS Advice Column Question

By Madeline Perez and Dillon O’Toole

“L

et me tell you about my friend, Juan. You see, Juan was a janitor at my home town’s high school. He didn’t make much money, but he always came to work with a smile. Speaking to him was the highlight of everyone’s day, student, teacher, fellow janitor, it didn’t matter. People would ask him, “Juan, oh beloved janitor, tell us why you smile so!” To which Juan would invariably respond, “I love God, I love my family, and I love my country!” No matter if it was the first or fiftieth time you heard it, Juan’s aphorism melted your heart, made increasingly stony with age.

Only one man hated Juan, the mayor. A cowardly man with an obsequious and supercilious affect, he could not stand the simple humility of Juan the janitor. For years he had attempted to use the town’s police to arrest Juan on trumped-up charges and have him deported back to “Mexico” (Juan was from El Salvador), but the Sheriff, an honest man of distinguished scruple, rebuffed his attempts. One pivotal day, my friend Madeline, an indefatigably clever woman, suggested that Juan run for mayor.

Like Hank Scorpio, we all collectively slapped our heads and said “My gosh, why didn’t I think of that?!”

In a landslide, Juan won the mayoral race, earning 98 percent of the vote (within a 2% margin of error). He campaigned on the slogan, “I love God, I love my family, and I love my country!” In a triumph, Juan, with his family in tow, stood upon the stage from his campaign headquarters and delivered one of the greatest orations in American history. Peter Robinson, the man who wrote President Reagan’s “Tear Down This Wall!” speech, is reputed to have cried while in the audience at the time.

Beneath the mayorship of Juan, my town saw unparalleled peace and prosperity, from the fact you couldn’t walk down the street without being offered a high-paying, secure job, to the fact that my little league team went undefeated for his entire tenure in office. By the end of his term, the town (and even our neighboring counties) were screaming for him to run for Congress, and take his wisdom and goodwill to Washington.

Though he initially refused, desiring to return to his simple life as a janitor, he was convinced by an old woman who spoke of the good he could not do, were he not fighting for them.

Serendipity smiled upon Juan that year, for the incumbent (and not to mention popular) representative was to retire at the end of the year. Though our dastardly former mayor had ambitions to campaign for it, he was quickly put to flight by even the whisper of Juan’s congressional aspirations. For brevity’s sake, I will not describe the divine miracles attributed to Juan during the campaign, but I shall note that his unsurprising win yet holds the record for the greatest voter turnout and victory margin.

Within his first month of assuming office, the corrupting influences of Washington were broken upon Juan’s intransigent integrity; within his first year, he had become the House Majority Leader. He could not tarry long, however, for in the next year, a senatorial race of our state was to come in the next election cycle. Tragically, our previous senator Daniel Webster IV

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had passed away upon Juan’s election, and so the spot to fill his shoes became increasingly Juan-shaped as the two years passed.

Understanding his duty to God, his family, and of course his country, Juan assumed the role of Senator for our state.

There was no contest as to who would become the Senate Minority Leader, but Juan had refused—for he knew that were he to secure that role, he may become “locked in,” unable to advance, nor retire with much ease. He spent twelve years in the Senate, sitting on every committee and subcommittee at some point in his tenure; by the end, were Juan to merely speak, his word would effectively become law. He gained a reputation as “silent Juan,” for he would often be absent from the proceedings, for fear that his presence would unduly influence his fellow senators.

By the turning of the twelfth year, a word was in the air—a sublime word whose utterance produces a veritable panoply of emotion: “president.”

“President, president,” they would whisper—in the hall, in the street—Juan could hear them all. Without hesitation, he announced his run, relinquishing his role as senator to his son, whom he loved as himself. In his campaigns, both primary and general, Juan visited all fifty states and even some U.S. territories. Across parties and geographies, Juan was idolized.

His election made Reagan vs. Mondale look contested. At his inauguration, Juan delivered a simple speech to an enraptured audience, “I love God, I love my family, and I love my country!”

His voice is reported to have broken during it, though none in attendance cared.

As president, Juan cracked, however. One day, he took an axe and brutally murdered his wife and son after watching Christian Bale’s American Psycho fifteen times in a row.

Despite (or perhaps because of) their love for him, the secret service neutralized him and brought him to a mental hospital, and the vice president, Juan’s traumatized daughter, assumed the presidency.

For years Juan languished in his solitude, before suddenly escaping one starry night. Breathing the brisk autumn air, Juan let out an eleutherian cry. Suddenly a tramp came up to him, saying, “And then is heard no more: it is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing” Juan saw then that it was the mayor who hated him, so many years ago. And then he shot Juan with a golf gun.

My question is, what is a golf gun?”

I don’t know, but it sure put a hole in Juan.

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