Volume 1, Issue 5 | 11/09/11 - 11/30/11 | www.theblacksheeponline.com
The
Black Sheep
âA College Newspaper Thatâs Actually About Collegeâ
Occupy Blo-No
My Journey Into the Belly of the Beast sevin ketze wrote this
âOh jeeez...what the heck did I sign myself up for?â I was still a few hundred yards from their encampment, but my heart was already pounding. I had taken every precaution; I scented myself with cigarettes and Mountain Dew, wore wrinkled clothes and a corduroy jacket, and wore three condoms to protect myself from new strains of airborne hepatitis that were surely flourishing in their small settlement...but I still felt that this assignment would be the death of me. I tied several large model rocket engines to my notepad, and taped a remote launch system to my wrist. If I didn't make it out of here, at least I could launch my notes far enough to be safe from the hostile occupiers. I began to cross the bridge...I was getting very close. I started playing Rage Against The Machine on my headphones to try and gain their trust. My steps were slowing involuntarily. I could see them clearly now, standing in a circle and chatting. I could only imagine what they were saying; âBoy, I sure do hate food made by big corporations. We should kill and eat the next satirical reporter that tries to interview us.â Well, the joke's on them! Little did they know, I had poisoned my own meat. I patted my abdomen; the ziploc bag full of arsenic sat heavy in my stomach. Suddenly, I was teetering on the border of their village. I must have zoned out during my approach...or maybe that's the arsenic. Oh man. Oh man, I'm dizzy. âHey, are you okay?â I turned around and wiped the vomit from my mouth. One of the natives, who was no more than a decimeter away, was staring right at me. I had never felt so nervous. I had never felt so... After vomiting once again, I responded. âYeah...I think I just ate some...badâŚarsenic... or something.â He raised an eyebrow, and turned back to face his co-conspirators. I approached the border for a second time. I quickly stuck my foot across in an effort to trigger their primitive traps. I found that there weren't any. âLooks like some poor sucker already tripped them,â I lamented. I stepped cautiously across the line, and noticed a box of âfreeâ âbagelsâ on the ground. Nice try. I slid on a sterile rubber glove and approached the man who had just watched me barf up a plastic bag. Raising my hands high above my head, I greeted him. âHELLO, NOBLE PROTESTER,â I said, trying to speak loudly and appear large so he knew I was no easy prey. He again turned to face me, and I prepared my offering of cigarettes, Vanilla Coke, and deodorant at his feet. âThis is for you. Please. Take.â âUh, no, that's okay.â
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Fre ta e...lik kin e g f eve rom ry hom thin e o g yo ver u p bre lan ak. on ..
FUCK. OH FUCK. He didn't accept the offering, GODDAMMIT I AM SO DEAD. I curled into a defensive ball to shield my organs from an easy harvest...but he didn't move. âHey there. My name is Travis. Can I help you with anything?â He extended his hand toward mine and helped me up. I quickly covered my mouth with my shirt to avoid showing my teeth; a common sign of aggression. He moved my arm up and down rhythmically, and then released my hand. I appear to have satisfied his salutation ritual. I interrupted the silence: âYes...I am reporter. I am here to learn about you. Please do not hurt. Do. Not. Hurt.â He laughed. âWell, uhhh, we're here because of the truly massive gap between the top 1% and the bottom 99%. We're sick of standing by as we're taken advantage of, so...we're just doing our part to show we're not gonna take it.â He spoke with intelligence and clarity. I was confused...then it became clear. Obviously, this was another shrewd reporter, just like me, who had infiltrated their encampment. âYeah...you...sure do hate...corporations...right?â I winked at him knowingly. He looked confused, and opened his mouth to respond. âNo,â I said, gesturing for him to be silent, and put my mouth to his ear. âI know what you're doing...brother. Your secret is safe with me.â I winked at him several more times before retreating. âWell, shoot. Back to square one,â I said under my breath. I paced the border of their encampment. None of them noticed me; clearly my scent mask was working. I slyly slid behind some large plants and began to take notes. They stood in a circle not more than a hundred and fifty inches from me. They were talking and laughing in a dialect I could not understand. The smell of self-satisfaction was overpowering. So overpowering, that I couldn't... I awoke in the middle of the Milner parking lot. My photographer must have dragged me to safety when I lost consciousness. I heard a voice behind me; âHey man, I dragged you to safety when you lost consciousness.â I lifted my head towards him and gave him a grateful nod. With great difficulty, I sat up and looked at my notepad. All it said was âBEARDSâ and âURINE PUDDLEâ. It appears that my expedition to learn about them had been a failure...but I didn't care. I was alive, and that was all I cared about. In memory of SevinKetze: Dead from arsenic poisoning.
04: Watterson Check-In: The Greatest Show on Earth I SHOULDNâT HAVE TO WAIT IN LINE TO SLEEP, ADOLF.
05: Night Prowlers
Survival instincts never looked so good.
13: The Black Sheep Interviews Double trouble this issue, with Mat Kearney and 12th Planet!