Volume 22, Issue 1 - Quarantine Part II - The Spiky Boi Edition

Volume 22

Fall 2020

Issue 1

The Hegemonocle Spiky Bois

The MACALESTER

HEGEMONOCLE

Probably Macalester s First . And now Last . Humor Magazine

Volume 22, Issue 1 Quarantine Part II: The Spiky Boi Edition Fall (and Winter) 2020

EDITORS-IN-CHIEF Autumn Campbell 21 Lidija Namike 21 Managing Editor Niko Bjork 22 Head Writer Jared Jageler 22 Head of production Kirk Lobban 21 STAFF Finn Odum 21

Ethan shaw 21

Kate Sibila 21

Sophia Vischer 22

Rennie Dicarlo 22

Ava Gordon 22

Ramla Muhudiin 24

Corgan Archuleta 24

Will Nicholson 24

Alice Bjorneberg 24

Dan Bially Levy 24

Lucas Martin 24

Youssef Aithmad 24

Zoe Scheuerman 24

Coat Rack 99

SHOUT OUTS

Class of 2020 2021 -are we even graduating if graduation is over zoom?

The Hegemonocle - for continuing to produce shitty work during a shitty time Our masks for letting us make out with them Paul Overvoorde - For giving us constant anxiety

Founders : Mikey Freedman 11 and Danny Rocklin 11Â characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely satirical.

Follow us on instagram and twitter:: @hegemonocle or email: Hegemonocle@Macalester.edu

How it’s going...

P IZZA

by Corgan Archuleta We here at Café Wack are committed to bringing you the most heinous pizza creations this side of Grand Avenue. We hear your request for cheese pizza. Unfortunately, our pizza chef has developed an artistic complex and will continue to produce increasingly grotesque food that we hope will nourish your body and mind.

The Café Mac . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Cheese with (unintentionally) raw shrimp, chicken, beef, and anything else left from the burger bar The Presidential . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sausage white sauce sprinkled with Dr. Rivera’s Luscious Locks™ Oatmeal Raisin Cookie Pizza . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

We have got to get rid of them somehow The Sunshine . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It doesn’t matter what it is, as long as Brandi serves it to you The Module System . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ¼ of a pizza but it takes 3 times as much work to eat The Cry for Help. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . the window The Vegan Option . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Rice, beaten to a pulp with the squirrel foot method The $3,500 One . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Not a pizza, just a lil’ reminder that you’re paying over 3 grand for this shit If you have any requests, feel free to contact us. We won’t listen, but we’ll be sure to put your comments on the bulletin board! By the way, our chefs strictly source our ingredients locally* *20% sourced within 100 miles of campus, 80% from the St. Thomas compost and trash bins, or whatever we can wrestle from the squirrels.

Snake Need Leg A journey into the mind of Finn Odum

Snake Need Leg. The words hang on my computer screen, mocking me with their utter simplicity. Snake Need Leg. It is 3 am, and this phrase--this fever dream--has pulled me back to a sweaty consciousness. Do I know what it means? No. Do I have to?

This magazine has published worse garbage in the past. We’ve spent years bullying BriRo. With no BriRo, where will we BriGo? I sit at my desk, wearing a stained t-shirt from the Bio department and skinny jeans two sizes too small. I’m not a Bio major. I don’t know where I got this shirt. My body vibrated at such a high frequency last night that I summoned the shirt from beyond the grave. These jeans are cutting off the circulation in my feet. Good. Easier for me to stay alert. I need to pump out something--anything--but all I can think of is Snake.

How He Have No Leg. Do He Need it? What does any of that mean?

It’s been days since I’ve seen campus. Four whole days. What does Old Main even look like? Will I ever be bombarded by the putrid, high school locker room scent of the Humanities building again? How will I ever be able to mock Macalester, if I cannot BE Macalester?

I had a dream I graduated last night. I was wearing an Anthropology sweater instead of a robe. A Snake handed me my diploma.

How did he do it? Do he Need Arm too?

Snake Need Leg. This makes sense. This is the only thing that makes sense.

No longer am I grounded in the reality of Brandi calling me sunshine as she dishes out stringy, Snake-like noodles and runny marinara sauce. No longer can I make prolonged eye contact with my sweaty professors in the LC as we both struggle to lift more than we physically can. No longer will I have mental breakdowns in the basement of the library.

I have breakdowns in the shower instead. I lean against the grimy tiles, waiting for Snake to fall out of this unholy faucet. I’m drenched, dressed in an oversized Louise Erdritch shirt from the English department. Where the fuck did this shirt come from? How do I keep acquiring shirts from other departments?

Snake Need No Shirt. Snake Only Need Leg. This is it. This is how I die. This is my last will and testament. Writing unfunny jokes about Snakes.

When Hege is absorbed by Chanter in ten years, this will be the first piece they burn for kindling.

Does Snake Need Leg, or do I Need Snake?

You have twenty dollars to build your four-person pod for the rest of the semester. Choose wisely. $10

$5

$3

$2

!"#$%&'()*+,-./00-,*!-1223*4,-5*67/8,* +3,29/,:0*+,-9-190

Earlier this semester, your Professor took everyone by surprise by mentioning their partner in a passing comment. “Partner?” the students reportedly whispered. The classroom was set abuzz with speculation as to whether, despite how overwhelmingly queer Macalester is, this was somehow their first non-cishet professor.

Today, your Professor has begun telling a personal story about going to Target with their partner.

Although their partner has so far played a minor role in this anecdote, it is clear that their partner’s pronouns will have to be used at some point. The excitement in the room is palpable.

Student experts are divided across the board about this development. Gaydars are firing on all cylinders.

Some students, like Shirley Granger, are reportedly incredibly invested. “Seeing openly queer adults in high-level professions means a lot to me. It really reminds me how far we’ve come to accepting LGBTQ+ individuals in society, and furthermore dismantles a lot of fears I have for my future. Plus I’m just imagining them at pride and damn what a cute couple they make.” When presented with the possibility the Professor is cishet, Shirley responded, “I mean I guess that’s cool too. Like normalizing the term ‘partner’ is also important. But, like... I just want one queer

professor, is that too much to ask for?”

Other students expressed concerns about the development. “There’s always been this energy of willthey-won’t-they with my professor and me”, reported one student who wished to remain anonymous.

“I’m scared! What if they’re straight and this is just another unrequited love, like Dani from highschool, with their hands so gentle, and their eyes so caring , the curves in their physique so inviting? Or worse, what if they’re not and I have to endure the entire semester imagining feeding them strawberries on my dorm bed, them shirtless, with inviting eyes? I’d honestly rather just be stuck in limbo”.

Macaighleigh, that bitch whose camera is off and is obviously ordering Amazon packages all day only had this to say: “Who cares? I don’t view my professors as people so, like, I have zero investment in their lives. I’m studying to become a crisis counselor.”

Honestly, fuck Macaighleigh. But now that the Target story is finishing, what will the pronouns be? You could cut the tension in the room with a stolen Bon Appetit knife. ...

Oh. They’re straight. That’s cool I guess.

Article by: Kirk Lobban

Dear Macalester Students: As we continue our gradual return back to campus, I want to acknowledge your resilience in the

•

•

ScotBottle

•

AskTheAdmin

written by jared jageler

DECEMBER STRUGGLE-MEAL PLAN WEEK 2

WEEK 3

WEEK 4

From the HEGE CULINARY STAFF that brought you: "Steamed Chicken Recipes to Make You Hate Yourself" and "10 (probably) Soulless Pets You Won't Feel Bad Eating in the Apocalypse"

HE AL TH

FRI

THU

WED

TUE

MON

WEEK 1

Y

EAS! K ID C A SN

FROM THE HEGEMONOCLE ARCHIVES....

Volume 13 Issue 2 The Poster Issue Released December 2015

SHOULD I WAVE TO THAT PERSON I’M ABOUT TO WALK BY? DO YOU KNOW THIS PERSON? YES

NO

ARE THEY IN YOUR CLASS?

YES

THEY’RE HOT BUT, LIKE, ENOUGH TO WAVE? : /

HAVE YOU MAYBE SEEN THEM PUKING IN THE DOTY GENDER NEUTRAL BATHROOM?

NO

NO

YES YES

DID THEY CALL YOU UNCULTURED IN FRENCH CLASS BECAUSE YOU’RE FROM OHIO?

NO

KEEP WALKING SLUT!

MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS

IS THEIR OUTFIT COOL?

YES

NO

ABORT THE MISSION IN SHAME YOU DIRTY DIRTY BUCKEYE!!

THEN HOW DO YOU KNOW THEM. . . ?

ARE THEY DREAMY IN THAT “I HAVEN’T SEEN ANOTHER HUMAN IN 2 WEEKS” KIND OF WAY?

YES CAN YOU ENVISION YOUR TWO KIDS CHARLES AND TAMRA PLAYING IN THE FRONT YARD. . . ?

SMILE THEN REALIZE THEY COULDN’T SEE IT BECAUSE OF YOUR MASK

YES

NO

TAKE THEIR BOOTS AND RUN! THEY LOOK STRONGER BUT YOU FIGHT DIRTY!!

YOU’VE BEEN BREAKING THE COVID COMMUNITY COMMITMENT BECAUSE YOU’RE A NAUGHTY NAUGHTY BOY!

IT’S NOT WORTH YOUR TIME!

NO FINE, I GUESS YOU CAN WAVE. . .

YES NO

OOPS! IT’S TOO LATE AND YOU’RE JUST TOO DARN ANXIOUS AND THAT’S WHY YOUR DAD THINKS YOU SHOULD MOVE BACK HOME BECAUSE YOU’RE NOT WORTH TUITION ANYWAYS : (

THEN GO GET A COVID TEST TOGETHER YOU CHEEKY LITTLE LOVEBIRD!

POLITE WAVE. BUT SHIT, YOU JUST TRIPPED AND NOW YOU LOOK LIKE A FUCKING IDIOT. OH WELL! BETTER LUCK NEXT TIME : (

HEGEMONOCLE In this issue...

10 HOT TIPS TO SPICE UP YOUR NEXT MENTAL BREAKDOWN

If you’re anything like us, the quarantine has been very taxing meentally and emotionally. What’s been even harder is keeping your mental breakdowns fresh and exciting! Well worry no more, as we have tips to spice up your next mental break!

1. CHANGE UP LOCATION of our room, and on the toilet, but, let’s get real. Those spots are getting a little tired. Mix it up by crying in the common room, in the middle of the sidewalk, or even on the bleachers behind OlRi! It will be even more emotionally destructive if you get caught!

KIRK LOBBAN

#9 Will send you SPIRALLING!

2. SWINGING You’ve spent countless hours worrying about your problems.

Wouldn’t it be nice to worry about someone else’s for a while? Enjoy all the perks of deteriorating mental health with none of the responsibilities of improving the situation! Panic about your friend’s high-risk uncle!

Freak about the rise of fascism in your roommate’s country, bonus points if it’s technically also yours! Stress about your classmate’s D in Chemistry! The possibilities are endless!

3. USE TOYS

Feel empty inside? Think how much more empty you’ll feel inside after shopping on Amazon! Not only will you feel shitty for spending the limited amount of money you have at an unethical retailer, you’ll also feel worse because the things you buy won’t even bring you any joy! Talk about a two for the price of one!

Remember to also look at your bank account and stress afterwards!

4. BRING FOOD INTO THE BEDROOM No one can watch you cry into a bowl of dry cereal when you cry into your cereal in the

5. WATCH VIDEOS

videos about Wood Carving! Fail to recognize your face as yourself when the screen goes black! Will watching this tree trunk get turned into a bowl make you feel better? No! But it sure as hell

6. DO IT IN FRONT OF A MIRROR Nothing makes you confront your mental health more than having a mental breakdown in front of a mirror! Is that really how you ugly cry? Why are you doing

7. GET DRUNK! We here at the Hegemonocle do not actually advocate getting drunk during a mental

8. GET HIGH! God Damnit Kirk.

9. GO TO THERAPY During the quarantine and the module system, it always be the right answer for everyone, but for mental health. Just remember you are loved, and you deserve some self care.

10. MASTURBATE EVEN MORE Awww yeah baby. What did you think you bought

I have made a severe and continuous lapse in judgement. I have failed myself, my family, and God. Through my faults, through my faults, through my most grievous faults...I will never recover. No matter how many times I confess, how many good deeds I do in the future as penance, I will never be able to atone for the sweet, sexy hedonistic sin I have committed.

What is this perverse transgression, you ask? Instead of my genetics homework, I accidentally emailed my Wait why are you laughing?

Sh-shut the fuck up, okay, this is serious! How am I supposed to look him in the eye over Zoom now? remember how much time I spent describing Mendel’s veiny, 13-inch beanpole. His sweet, vine-like forbidden vegetable. God, I’m never going to be able to show my face in the Bio department again. wait no don’t look that up please oh my god Jinkies, now everyone’s going to know I moonlight as the erotica writer Salamander_Father! Everyone in amount of uncontrollable orgasms in OLRI! Now, when I catch Ema With One M from Biodiv glaring at me from six feet away on campus, I’ll know it’s because she’s kinkshaming me. Listen, Ema With One M, just because you’re not into a polyamorous reverse-harem centering around Ada Lovelace, doesn’t mean it’s wrong.

There’s only one way to solve this: I’m dropping out. Changing my name. Move to Ohio, living on a houseboat in the middle of Lake Erie. You’ve heard of quarantine bangs? Get ready for quarantine changing-my-identityin-shame-shaved-head. No one will be able to track me do--hold on, I just got an email from my professor.

Hey Finn-- Looks like you sent me the wrong document. Don’t worry, I didn’t read it. It’s too long to be an abstract.

Oh, nevermind. Looks like I just told you all that for no reason, hah. Crazy. You’ll, uh, keep that to yourself, right? Right?

Wait where are you going come back--

Splitting Those Atoms

Oppenheimer gets down and dirty in the lab

BDSM

Watson and Frick

Studying DNA leads to more...

Erotic Couplings

Dear Daddy Darwin

Darwin teaches me more than just evolution

BDSM

Curie’s Cock

Marie Curie shows Charles Darwin how a real scientist fucks

Erotic Couplings

Mendelian Reproduction

Young scientist learns about punnett squares

BDSM

Pasteurize Me Daddy Lovin’ Dr. Lovelace

Erotic Couplings Lovelace meets Blackwell

Lesbian Sex

Submit to Chanter!

Twins, by Lidija Namike

The Life Of A Pre-made CC Burger (Based on a true story)

I sit, looking up through the greasy saran wrap at the hungry college students walking by. It has been this way my whole life: watching, waiting. At the beginning, I had hope. As each student would walk past, my spirits would rise. Maybe she would be the one. The person to point down and say: “Yes. That is the one. That Olive and Cream Cheese Burger. That is what I want.” But no... they would just ask to make their own burger. They always made their own burger.

I had companions once. There were 5 other burgers of my type in my pan. We used to sit in solidarity with each other, admiring our bold fusion of bagel topping and Mediterranean stone fruit.

But one by one they were taken by intrepid students looking to try something new. As they were picked up by the confused student worker, incredulous eyes gleaming out from above their purple T-shirt, my companions would always look back, telling me in a saddened whisper it would be my time soon. But my time never came. As lunch ended and the cafe closed, I was the only one left from our tray. Sitting alone in my pool of grease and loneliness as the shifts changed and the stations were wiped down. Hour by hour fermenting deeper into the pan.

When the cafe reopened at 4, I once again felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, one of the students who took one of my companions would return to rescue me. But as 4pm became 5, and 5 became 6, I realized that I was doomed to this fate of desolation and loneliness. I would sit and watch as the tray of curly fries was refilled again and again. The student worker would call out “we need more regular patties.” But no one ever wanted more of me. No one was interested in the delicious fusion of olives, cream cheese, bacon, and onion.

It is now 7:45 pm. My upper bun has become hard, stale from a life out in the air. My lower bun disintegrated an hour ago, the juices from my patty soaking it through. I sit in my congealed grease, looking out at the world. Existential thoughts fill my head: What will happen in 15 minutes when the Cafe closes? Will I be thrown away, left to fight for my life among the rejected scraps of mongolian mushrooms from Flame, dragged out of the compost by a squirrel fetching food for its master? Will my contents be dumped out and reused the next day for the pizza? The breakfast sandwich? The beefaroni?... Will I remain here in my tray, left until tomorrow’s lunch, doomed to a repeat of today? I shudder, wondering how my life could have gone so wrong.

Then I see him. His golden blond hair swept across his forehead. His Mac Athletics shirt tight around his pecs, nipples aggressively greeting the world. He asks if there are any plain patties left, but they ran out half an hour ago. This is my moment, my time to shine. His eyes glance towards me, surveying his options. I gaze back, trying to arrange my rock hard bun in the most appetizing way possible. His eyes flicker between me and the Pepper Jelly Black Bean Burger, my rival from the pan next door. And then, with a resigned shrug, he says it. Those dreaded words. A single utterance that forever seals my fate.

“I guess I’ll just get some fries.”

A Zoom Romance By your secret admirer

ABOUT THE STAFF

Hello, I am Covid, the Corona Hegehog. You might know me from my modelling career, starring on the cover of Hegemonocle, Spikey Boi edition.

My friends at the Hegemonocle have asked me to say something. This pandemic is a very serious situation, and many of us have dealt with loss, illness or other hardships. Hegemonocle, Spikey Boi edition is in no way meant to make light of these uniquely terrible moments. So stay safe, take care of yourself, and do whatever other bland sayings people are saying these days.

Hegehogs to make love to.

Follow us at @Hegemonocle On Twitter and Instagram Interested in joining?

Email us at Hegemonocle@macalester.edu Join today! (well next semester tbh)