“Libertarianism Thrives Under My Grow Light” VOL. 3, No. 1
MIDDLEBURY, VERMONT · THURSDAY, OCTOBER 22
Construction of Mass Grave on Battell Beach stalled as Coronavirus Cases Remain Low
Though the ditch is now filled, Laurie Patton assured the Campus in an interview yesterday that she could singlehandedly recreate it at a moment’s notice.
Exxon Internships Looking For Students with “Strong Cognitive Dissonance Skills”
With the winter internship application season in full swing, Exxon has started promoting their application at Middlebury — looking for candidates with “strong cognitive dissonance skills.” The application requires a cover letter, resume, interview, and zero tolerance for “third world problems.” In the interviews with applicants, Exxon is looking for well-composed students who have perfected the nonchalant assertive gesture: push back their chair, cross their legs, and gaze into their personal pit of sociopathic tendencies. Bern N. Hjel, one of the recruiters for this program, stated: “On our quest to find the brightest minds with the darkest futures, we decided to start here at Middlebury.”
“We figured that there was a pretty good chance of Middlebury students wanting to come work for us. Considering this campus already thrives on a facade of eco-friendliness, this is a perfect breeding ground for the next generation of Earth’s perverted mutilators!” Exxon recruiters want to make it very clear that they are looking at a wide variety of candidates for this position. Following public backlash, the company has instituted a new policy that at least one female or low income person must be considered for the role, but not both. The application closes once all of the positions have been filled, because a rolling admission policy best reflects how Exxon plans to roll over the hopes, dreams, and healthy bodies of marginalized people all over the world.
As Middlebury finishes its seventh week of classes without a single active case of COVID-19 on campus, President Laurie Patton has asked workers to temporarily halt construction of the mass grave being built on Battell Beach. The grave––which was designed to hold up to 300 of Middlebury’s best and brightest pupils for the rest of eternity–– was originally approved back in April 2020 as the administration prepared to invite students back to campus in the fall. This opportune timing allowed the Admissions Office to take the impending tragedy in stride and send out a few hundred more acceptance letters to the Class of 2024. Despite the construction, few students seemed to realize the true purpose of the giant ditch in the middle of Battell Beach. “I assumed they were just fixing pipes or something, but planning to sacrifice a few hundred students so the rest of us could pay full tuition and room and board to take online classes actually makes way more sense,” said Jimmy Jones ‘22. The construction project was easily approved by the Board of Trustees, whose members seemed almost too eager for students to die. “What do you want me to say?” said board member Bobby Vanderbilt while sweating profusely. “That anyone who doesn’t want us investing in big oil probably deserves to suffer an untimely death and be laid to rest in a massive pit on Battell Beach? Is that what you want to hear?” A number of first-year students reported that Patton seemed to allude to plans for the grave in her convocation speech, which began, “I respect every student, from every country, who serves beside us in the hard work of history. Middlebury is grateful, and Middlebury will not forget. From the dust you came, and to dust you will ultimately return.” Patton now acknowledges that the mass grave was a bit of a miscalculation. “Of course we don’t want our students to die. It’s great that no one’s dead. It’s just that now we have this giant ditch and nothing to fill it with and it’s kind of like, ‘Well, back to the drawing board.’”
ITALIAN HOUSE SPONSORSHIP GIVES STUDENT AN OFFER HE CANT REFUSE
“GREETINGS, FATHER!” SAYS TINY PUBSAFE OFFICER TO LARGER ONE
“LET’S GO TO HANNAFORD’S” SAYS BITCH WITH A CAR
“Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in.”
“Just when I thought I was big, they make me small.”
“We’re buying mochi and onion powder.”
FUHGEDDABOUTIT, PAGE DICIOTTO
AISLES 3 AND 10
FAMILY, PAGE 1312 TINY DESK CONCERT FOR BELL GUY “This next one is called: ‘DING DING DING ding DING ding dong ding díng.” DESKS, PAGE 50
STUDENT LOOKS VERY CHIC AFTER DEVELOPING HUGE PIMPLE IN MARILYN MONROE SPOT
BENJY RENTON WAVES FAREWELL, RIDES BIKE INTO THE SKY
“You look incredible!” says their friend.
“I’ve done all I can do!”
BEAUTY, PAGE 12
MIDDLEBURY HEROES, PAGE N95
THE LOCAL NOODLE
Middlebury Wonders Why Asian Students Remain Underrepresented; In Other News, Ross Serves “Crispy Tofu with Red Sauce” As a crisp autumn breeze guided the leaves across McCullough lawn, Middlebury Admissions Dean Daisy Hudson gathered students, staff, and faculty to announce a new initiative addressing a crucial question: “Where are all the Asian students at Middlebury?” “Hell if I know,” said Hudson, shoveling another sporkful of soggy rice, garnished with a rather generous amount of sweet and sour sauce, into her mouth. Hudson went on to describe how, ever since its founding, Middlebury has been chasing this “elusive dragon.” Less than 7% of each incoming class is made up of students who identify as Asian or Asian-American on their college applications, less than role model schools such as Cornell and Harvard which each boast around a 30% representation of this mysterious ethnicity. When
compared to powerhouse name brand schools such as Kyoto University, which flaunts a student body in which more than 97% identify as Asian (or AsianAmerican), the disparity becomes alarming. “Why would they not want to come to rural Vermont?” Hudson queried. “Our smoothie spot has a bubble tea item on the menu and we even have a tea shop in town. What more could they possibly need? It’s almost as if no one has told them that Middlebury is the Beijing of New England!” The dean then laid out some ideas to attract more Asians students, such as Oriental Thursdays alongside Taco Tuesdays. The dining hall also plans to add tofu and soy sauce to everything they make, and the Middlebury Activities board purchased 2000 red lanterns in preparation for
It tastes just like my Nonna’s.
Lunar New Year. “Although I’ll be damned if I stop at red lanterns,” said Hudson, with a disconcertingly enthusiastic smile on her face. “We have much more ambitious plans.” To accompany the announcement of the initiative, Hudson produced a timeweathered, obscure silk scroll with details of the plan. Close inspection of the scroll simply revealed a strategy to “turn Mead Chapel into a Xiaolin temple,” with the phrase “make them feel at home” bolded and underlined three times. Until this feat is achieved, however, it seems students of Asian or Asian-American descent will just have to make do with the highly authentic Cantonese cuisine that can be found at Ross dining hall.
THURSDAY, OCTOBER 22, 2020
Lacrosse Team Members Removed from Campus, Friday Nights Widely Regarded to be “Much Safer Now” For the first time in Middlebury and possibly American history, a number of athletes last month were held accountable for their actions and consequently removed from campus. Although the suspensions were only due to COVID-19 health pledge violations, members of MiddSafe have deemed that the removal of Lacrosse players has had the unintended effect of making campus life safer in every way. The removal of Lacrosse members has had a significant butterfly effect across the college’s campus. For example, every student on the waitlist for Econ-101 now has a spot, although students who were learning about the stock market by eavesdropping outside of Ross are now scrambling for a new source of information. SNEG members also noted in a recent study that the campus has now seen a 4000% reduction in crushed Keystone Light cans littering the campus. Health officials are also noticing the benefits of the suspensions. A spokeswoman for the Parton health center noted that in the past two weeks there has been a dramatic decrease in viral infections across Middlebury. “Oh right.” noted the spokeswoman at the end of her presentation. “Also, there’s probably less COVID.” Notably, students who gave a fuck about dangers on campus before the pandemic are overjoyed because COVID-19 wasn’t the only entity on campus that made people very uncomfortable at social gatherings, forced them to watch their drink closely, then followed them home after it was clear it wasn’t welcome. “Yeah, it’s a bit weird how we were called crazy for making an anonymous map of assault locations across campus,” said one anonymous GSFS major. “But now we have a public dashboard of everyone who’s gathered in a group of eleven. I guess it only really becomes an important issue when these dangers affect people in Old Chapel as well.”
THURSDAY, OCTOBER 22, 2020
THE LOCAL NOODLE
“Choo Choo” Says New $100 Million Train That Just Takes You To Rutland
After months of loud, invasive, and inconvenient construction, the town of Middlebury finally welcomed the MiddExpress*, Vermont’s only way to get you to Rutland that is six minutes faster than driving on Route 7. Despite major pushback in the initial planning discussions and its $100 million price tag, the town ultimately was delighted when the big, silver engine bleated “choo choo” as it rolled slowly below the Cross Street bridge. “The construction of this train in the middle of a pandemic forced many local businesses to close their doors and made our downtown district completely uninhabitable,” noted Percy Hatt,
owner of Smooch the Chef. “But the moment I saw it roll by at a meager 14 miles an hour and let out a tender ‘choo choo,’ I realized losing my livelihood was worth it.” It’s too soon to tell if the euphoria from the Choo-Choo will last, but at least for now, the MiddExpress is a welcomed part of the community to anyone that can sleep through the sound of a 18,000-ton metal sausage barrelling through our quaint, quiet town. *There is a pending lawsuit between Amtrak and the College’s premiere convenience store regarding the name of the new line.
Greatest Squirrel Romance of All Time Goes Unnoticed By Passerby Walking across Battell Beach to his morning class, Ryan Grimes ‘23 overlooked the greatest squirrel romance of all time, sources said Monday. Grimes, who allegedly “really needed to get some work done before class started”, walked directly by the garbage can, ignoring the squeaks and bark-like grunts from within that told a Shakespearian tale of love against all odds. “If they had only been having crude sex, he might’ve noticed,” admitted longtime friend and parttime lover, Max Hoebert ‘21. “Pretty sure he’s into voyeurism. He’s always been more focused on the physical than the emotional-- a shame that his obsession with the capitalistic endeavour of a never-ending work week has once again gotten in the way of seeing such a natural wonder.” Grimes, when told of what narrowly escaped his gaze seemed nonplussed. “Huh? I don’t have time to chat right now” said Grimes. “I mean, I think I saw some animals chasing each other around the path yesterday. If they were rabbits I would have paid better attention, they’re cool, but squirrels? Sorry, I don’t really get the appeal.” Several sources confirmed that Grimes also recently ignored the unfolding tale of a curmudgeonly crow who reluctantly became a father figure to a younger, orphaned crow.
Rutland, the “Vegas of Vermont,” is home to the H. H. Baxter Memorial Library and a Denny’s.
Middlebury Begins Leasing Out the Rooms of Students Sent Home to Spirit Halloween Middlebury’s Office of Finance announced this morning that all students that violated the Health Pledge will have their vacant dorms converted into Spirit Halloween shops. This partnership will provide students with a semblance of normalcy for the upcoming holiday, and provide the college with more money to funnel into Monterey. The first of the Spirit shops opened this morning in the Atwater dorms, and its debut has been widely regarded as a success. Kelly Armstrong ‘21 was quick to purchase the store’s newest addition to their Fall 2020 catalog, the “Sexy Frontline Worker” costume. “I’m bummed that most of my friends have been kicked off campus and have brought shame to their family names,” says Armstrong, “But I can’t deny the doorbuster deals Spirit Halloween has brought to this campus, such as the discount code SPIRIT75 that can get you 20% off your entire order and free shipping. Offer only valid at certain locations.” The Middlebury Investment club has also endorsed the Office
of Finance’s bold move. When asked for his thoughts, club president Milden Freetman ‘21 simply said “Supply and demand, baby.” Freetman then proceeded to slowly nod his head as his eyes glazed over. While praise for Spirit’s presence has been viral across campus, there are some who question the school’s partnership with the established
costume shop. Concerned faculty and students wonder if it is wise for the school to encourage celebration of a holiday that will almost certainly result in the violation of the Student Health Pledge. When pressed for clarification on this issue, the Dean of Student Life said that he would consider “dressing up as someone who cares.”
After Halloween, the Spirit Halloween will become a Burlington Coat Factory.
THE LOCAL NOODLE
Bi-Hall Observatory Laser Shoots Down Canadian Geese
The Middlebury Department of Astrology and Physics has partnered with the Department of Homeland Security to protect Middlebury’s top-secret STEM research from local flocks of Canadian geese. The partnership has identified Canadian geese to pose the largest threat, as they hold the unique ability to infiltrate campus by the winds. With decreased traffic in Bi-Hall, the College has rededicated the Observatory’s massive war-grade laser to shoot down those damn birds. Though ethical concerns have arisen from Middlebury’s wide vegan population, Astrology Professor Cordelia Starr swears by her horoscope,
which asserted that with Pluto in Capricorn, “expectations of privacy, secrets, and introspection are rapidly transforming.” “Aves-ly,” said Starr, “it means the birds.” Director of the Department of Bird Security, Bill D. Wall, agreed. In a press conference last Wednesday, Wall stated that “it’s been a rather wild goose chase, but we believe in the work we’re doing.” Regardless of the mission’s intentions, the project has significantly cut down the cost of meat for Middlebury’s three gourmet dining halls. “It’s a little stringier, but it gets the job done,” says Gary Gettum, Head Chef of Atwater Dining.
Programmers report that the chances of a student wearing a Canada Goose jacket being fired upon are “unfortunately high.”
THURSDAY, OCTOBER 22, 2020
Solar Panels Found Downloading Sun’s Secrets A small group of amateur sleuths investigating Middlebury’s assertion of being a “carbon neutral” campus have recently claimed to have stumbled upon an unbelievable data breach. While inspecting the solar panel system, they noticed a long, unaccounted for red wire that was plugged into an inverter, and now believe its purpose might be to steal the secrets of the sun itself. “The wire just kept going––we tried to follow it, but never actually found the end of it since we aren’t allowed to leave Addison County” noted one of them. “When we got back, we unplugged it, just because we could.” Unplugging the wire triggered a remote alarm that in minutes, summoned a helicopter to land at the Knoll. According to witnesses, two men exited the helicopter and immediately approached the investigators and inquired about the notification they received that the wire was offline. The reporter described the engineers as two middle-aged brunette men in suits. “Honestly, they looked dashing,” they admitted. After the two engineers studied the scene, they became at ease and began laughing. “Phew, we thought it was the Ruskies, or Elon” one exclaimed. “Yeah, or Grimes” said the other. “We never get to talk about our work so it’s only kind of exciting to spill the beans a bit.” The engineers, after they had resecured the wire into the system, enthusiastically shared some of their thoughts with the two reporters. “Basically we want to know how the sun does it”. At first, the student reporters thought these engineers were simply curious about or working toward nuclear fusion, but were then faced with the darker capitalistic reality. “If we can figure out her secrets: what makes her go-go, what makes her hot, why she only comes out during the day––we can make another one.” The engineers, employed by a private company, were setting out to extract the sun’s ‘secrets’ to produce a ‘synthetic star’ adequate for terrestrial life. Claiming the future sale of the patent of their synthetic sun will earn hundreds, if not millions of dollars, the engineers did not offer any valuable or identifying information. When asked about the intended future customers, the men scoffed, and genuinely asked “uh, who wouldn’t wanna buy a sun?” Though the individuals insisted they could not divulge their employers, they assured the college that it did not rhyme with “shmamazon [sic]” nor did it start as a company selling books online. They departed via helicopter shortly after, but not before destroying the Knoll‘s irrigation system.
THE LOCAL NOODLE
THURSDAY, OCTOBER 22, 2020
ARTS AND ACADEMICS Student Uncontrollably Sobs at Yet Another Mention of Jason Mantzoukas
Last Wednesday, a crowd gathered in Bi-Hall around a student who had just collapsed to the floor in tears upon hearing his GIS partner mention the name of mid-level actor and Middlebury alum, Jason Mantzoukas ‘95. A team of medics responded on the scene and took the vitals of Evan Katsopolis ‘21, ensuring that he was essentially healthy and just clinically fed up with the same fucking joke. Mantzoukas, Middlebury’s highest performing alumni in the “ethnically ambiguous comedian” category, is medium-known for bit parts on Parks and Recreation, Broad City, The League, and Big Mouth, among others. He is also known for being a loud guest on podcasts and for a viral Reddit post in which someone’s husband catfished his own wife pretending to be Jason Mantzoukas. At a meeting with the Prajna meditation group in Tent 4, Katsopolis was heard sharing his grievances with the fellow mindfulness practitioners: “It’s just, like, every couple of months everyone always brings this guy up, talking about how he went here and was in the Otters. Like I get it, that’s cool, but ultimately, that’s not such a big--” Katsopolis was interrupted by a fellow student: “Jason Mantzoukas? That guy’s so funny! Did you know he was a religion major here? Did you know that he started the Greek Affinity Group on campus?” Katsopolis, who is Greek-American, looked faint but steadied himself and muttered “Ari Fliescher” three times under his breath.
Jason Matzoukas and Steven Hauschka should kiss.
Political Science Department Sponsors Field Trip for “Democratization” of Bolivian Lithium Mines Although all other study abroad programs are postponed for the foreseeable future, the Political Science Department announced this week that it has teamed up with Midd ROTC to fund an exclusive J-Term trip to “democratize” Bolivian lithium mines. The class syllabus is an exciting mix of theory and practice, where students will first learn about the rich history of the Bolivian people, and then carpet bomb the shit out of them on behalf of American tech companies. This will be followed up by a nice dinner at the golf course.
The trip will be funded primarily by the GOP, but supplementary funds will come from the Democratic Party through a tentative donation of $1.9 trillion. Global Security Studies Professor Greg Bush says that the course will not only provide students with some hands-on experience destabilizing foregin countries, but also practical skills like sharp-shooting civilians. Students will also receive a CW credit for crafting speeches that blatantly lie to the American public. “We like to adopt a gradual learning curve for our future
leaders. First, we’ll start small, like terrorizing the Middlebury Campus through civilian paramilitary groups. Then, we’ll work our way up to planting false flags in the Ross Lounge. After this, our students will be ready to turn a blind eye to any and all injustice.” When asked about ensuring that students are prepared before departure, Bush said: “The final test is to be able to locate Bolivia on a map. Most students come close, and finding Iran still results in an automatic pass.
Middlebury Democrats Club Gear Up For Whatever the Hell It Is They Do With the U.S. Presidential election less than two weeks away, the Middlebury College Democrats have begun to rally their members for one final push to do something as an organization. The Midd Dems have been working hard to see the group’s agenda completed, or to see any agenda at all. The Dems are the third largest political group on campus, behind only Middlebury Libertarian and the Vermont Cheese Enclave. Yesterday, in a club-wide email, the President of Middlebury Democrats, Clint Johnson ‘21 wrote that it was time to reap the fruit of their labor. “This is it people,” wrote Johnson. “The election is
very close. This weekend, we’re really going to kick this club into overdrive.” When asked what kicking Middlebury Democrats into overdrive actually entailed, Johnson said their upcoming meetings will almost certainly involve a great deal of strategy, planning, and even an interesting guest speaker to raise morale for the club’s nebulous future plans. “We have a lot going on, to say the least,” he noted. “Mark my words, after this election, there is absolutely no chance in hell people will question our club’s existence.”
We Only Watch the Election For the Commercials Although the Local Noodle strives to be an objective news organization, we feel it is our civic duty to speak to our legions of readers, and make our voice heard: you must prepare for November 3rd, because the commercials are gonna be legendary. We’re not a political organization. We don’t really care who’s blown a three point lead in Wisconsin, or who’s separating who from their families. We’ve tried to pay attention, we just couldn’t get into it. What we do know, though, is that we’re due for some sick ads on November 3rd. It’s a neat little tradition that the election night commercials are so funny. We are all eagerly hoping for redemption for the Bud Knight, now that he keeps getting dicked on by Bud Knight Platinum. The perfect outcome of election night is the triumphant return of the abhorrent yet hilarious Mountain Dew Puppy Monkey Baby abomination, or perhaps a reveal that the entire 2020 election has simply been a Tide laundry ad. Remember Tide pods? The Local Noodle does. To reiterate: politics in this country do not warrant an iota of our attention. We couldn’t care one way or the other if Trump or Biden is the next president, so you can spare us your couchcommentator analysis. The only incentive we have to watch the election night returns is to see if the Planter’s Peanut Man has finally hit puberty, or if the Doritos brand has another kneeslapping, gut-busting, hilarious commerical. We’ll zone out and check our phones when people start talking about “returns” or “battleground states”, but we’ll be fucking ecstatic if the rumors of a Lady Gaga halftime show are true. So while we’re sure we’ll see a ton of you around on Nov 3rd, let us make one thing perfectly clear: we’ll only be watching the election for the commercials.
HENRY CRONIC Editor-In-Chief
NIMAYA LEMAL Not Dead Yet
SOPHIE CLARK Editor-In-Mischief
MICAELA GAYNER I Voted
DAVID FACTOR Current U.S. Army Soldier
HANNAH GOKASLAN GF From Camp
CLAIRE MARTENS Heiress to Bones
SOPHIE HOCHMAN Natural Blonde
ELLE SIMMONS Pollworker
LIZ SRULEVICH Pissant
ZOE TOWNER PP Committee
CAT LA ROCHE Himbo
TIM HUA KorönaTermìnator
CLAIRE CONTRERAS Rebel Opposition Force
EMMA TZOTSCHEW Youth Pastor
BASIL ALFARO Fluorescent Light
JOSH ZIEGLER (Photo Not Available)
JESSICA BUXBAUM Voice Inside Your Head
OSCAR FLEET Politically Liberal, Fiscally Conservative
ISABELLE WYDLER Taurus
IMAN BEHBEHANI Mispronounced Name
Middlebury’s only news source. Since 1800.
THE LOCAL NOODLE
THURSDAY, OCTOBER 22, 2020
Efficiency of Masks Pales to That of My Sauron the Dark Lord Cosplay By ERIC LOPEZ-LIEBOVICH
I am not a COVID-19 denier. I believe in science. But I think it is appropriate to acknowledge that some personal protective equipment can be far more efficient than the singleuse masks worn by my contemporary classmates. Today, I would like to prove that my seventeen-pound cosplay of the famous Lord of the Rings villain Sauron is one such piece of equipment. Indeed, after being ridiculed by school employees and barred entry to Proctor Dining Hall last week while showing off my towering cosplay achievement, it is time I address why my cosplay of the Shadow in the East is more effective than wearing a simple mask. To begin, I would like to address concerns upon the safety of my costume. The CDC tells us that cloth masks slow the spread of COVID because they hamper the dispersal of respiratory droplets in infected individuals. But as the Dark Lord, I stand at a towering and lore-accurate nine feet tall. And although my helm is constructed of cardboard, spray-paint, and aluminum, the only slot for air comes from my eye holes. My mouth is far above the coughs of men. Moreover, when donning the armor of the ring-maker, I take a vow of silence to increase the intimidation of my cosplay. This alone
PICTURED: The lieutenant of Morgoth awaits tater tots.
hampers the spread of respiratory droplets far more than a mere mask. And be it sheer awe or my refusal to wear deoderant, I find that individuals rarely come within six feet of me. I will also note that many people forget CDC guidelines when eating or “hanging out” with friends, and casually slip off their masks–– a clear violation of our student health pledge. In contrast, the fastest I can remove my armor is twenty-
three minutes. Should anyone wish to interact with me, they must travel to my personal Mordor: my dorm room in the Japanese House. I hope I have changed a few minds today, and others will join me in electing to cosplay instead of wearing masks in the future. Perhaps the next time I emulate the glorious presence of Sauron, the Base Lord of Treachery, on Middlebury’s campus, the hockey team won’t beat the shit out of me again.
THE LOCAL NOODLE
THURSDAY, OCTOBER 22, 2020
Remote Student: Please Remove my Electric Shock Collar When I chose to live off-campus in Middlebury, I only meant well. I feared that if I lived in a dorm, I would risk getting sent home–– and, as a libertarian, I hate being subject to rules. Once fall semester started, I knew that I wasn’t technically allowed on campus, but this seemed more like a guideline–– until electricity began pulsing through my neck. Middlebury College, please remove my electric shock collar that’s fused into my neck.
The Ross Dining Hall is My Personal Panopticon
I didn’t even know I was wearing one until I tried to slip into campus for my friend’s thirteen person kickback in Atwater. As soon as I stepped across the sidewalk, a horrific shock whipped through my spine and I was jolted back out onto the street. I tried three more times. With my pristine vision, I could see my friend and our other twelve besties inside Atwater, sipping brewskis and French-kissing. But I could have been on the other side of
By CONRAD ARCHER Last Thursday, the Ross Dining Hall offered a dinner of sweet potatoes, steamed broccoli, and slightly overcooked steak fajitas, served in a green plastic container. I walked through the familiar labyrinth of signposts and stations, grabbing yogurt cups and portions of red velvet cake on my way out. But even when I left, walking back to my single in Lang, I could not shake the feeling that I was still in the Ross Dining Hall line. Every part of life at Middlebury is designed to herd us back into that queue. We study, fuck, love, and laugh only to be pipelined back to the wretched parade of masked ghouls staring at their phones. That is where we are watched, making halfhearted gestures to faces we cannot see. I have stopped sleeping. Each night I lie on a bed of disposable knives and forks. Their serrated edges dig into my flesh, prodding me while I turn in restless slumber. Am I back there; did I ever leave? Am I being watched? Who is watching me? And will I need to show them my student ID card? We are always six feet apart from the surveillance of the Guard. We are always six feet apart from the violent machinery of the Institution. We are always six feet away from spilling macaroni and cheese onto the floor, then awkwardly shuffling away as a Ross Dining Service worker cleans it up. There is no escape, no leaving. The other students in my classes are but idols of Chef’s Choice meals, the professors just an iteration of the Designer of my soon-to-be asylum. My friends now are gone; subsumed under the ranks of the haunting visages that wait around me, watching. My mind is nothing, just the silver ceilings, the royal blue curtains, the absence of time in the night through the windows! My prison becomes me, and in there I am seen, but I do not see; I am not a subject of communication, but just their object of information. Forever on a green square, forever begging for more food, forever holding too much. Forever a prisoner in the Ross Dining Hall.
the world, as far as that invisible fence was concerned. All I want to do is breathe my stinky dog breath onto campus-- I want to breathe onto the stacks of Davis, I want to breathe on the Knoll, I want to take a hot shower in Battell and breathe out the vapors all throughout the building. But alas, the electric fence running from Twilight to Ridgeline Parking lot and over to BiHall prevents me. Sometimes I crawl up the edge and howl for
someone to let me in, but students just walk past and pretend like they don’t see me. Yes, technically I can travel throughout the whole of Vermont and even to counties out-of-state that are green on the Covid map, but I only want traipse upon the Class of ’97 TAM trail, just out of reach. Come on, please, Middlebury, take my shock collar off. I’ll be a good doggie.
Try these fun, flirty, sexy, socially-distant Halloween costume ideas!
Sexy Frontline Worker
Socially Distanced Horse
Satisfied Forth n’ Goal Customer
THE LOCAL NOODLE
THURSDAY, OCTOBER 22, 2020
With No Competitive Season, Athletes’ Life Expectancy Increases from 25 to 28
With a lack of a competitive season this year for Middlebury Athletics, the average lifespan of an athlete has increased from 25 years to an impressive 28 years. After noticing significantly fewer visits to Porter Medical Center this semester for stomach pumps, the Biology Department decided to conduct a two-week study on athletes’ health and wellness in the time of COVID-19. The increase of longevity is largely attributed to adequate amounts of sleep, chocolate milk, and a feeling of purpose beyond the next rep. Additionally, students reported finally having time to “breathe, think, and develop a personality,” instead of filling their weekends with competitions that demand a 5-hour bus ride to rural New Hampshire. “I don’t know, I’m pretty sure I still lived a healthy, fulfilling lifestyle,” says
football punter Dee Trays ‘22, who is plagued with erectile dysfunction from a “controlled” pornography addiction. However, there were still those athletes who were able to balance their schedule and live well: even if they still spent four years of their Middlebury life partying in the same Atwater suite. “Yeah, you know, those people trained hard. Got their work done. Developed a superiority complex. Slept and ate well -- the works.” says Sansea McGrath, one of the researchers from the Biology department. “But their life was so goddamn bland that usually their brains would just give-up around 25 or 26. I mean, yeah, there are the outliers though who actually get to live past 30, but the subconscious regret that manifests in their mid-life crisis has basically killed them at that point.”
Note: The Middlebury Golf team are all in their late eighties and thus were exempt from this study.
Proc Skateboarders Quarantined for Being Fucking Sick Middlebury College announced today that those six or seven skateboarders who are somehow always outside Proctor Dining Hall are going to be quarantining in Munford until further notice. The scrappy band of skaters, often seen throwing themselves into walls and down stairs across campus, did not violate any COVID-19 policies but, as evidenced through their grinds and ollies, are nonetheless extremely “sick.” The guilty skateboarders attempted to plead their case, citing that this was their first offense, and that their filthy kickflips were performed at a safe distance from
each other and any bystanders. The appeal fell upon deaf ears and was upheld, with Parton spokesman Chester Brown delivering the opinion of the college. “The students claim that they are not ‘ill,” noted Brown, “yet I saw one of them pull off a Christ Air the other day. If that’s not fucking sick, then I don’t know what is.” No amount of hydroxychloroquine could protect Middlebury’s campus from the skaters’ vile acts, in which they defied God and gravity. While the head of the skaters, Ethan Hawk ‘21.5, is disappointed, he says he understands.
“We understand quarantine doesn’t end until we’re no longer sick,” says Hawk. “We will be barred from listening to any paganistic music, and exclusively replace it with Imagine Dragons and One Republic.” Though life without the skateboarders will certainly be worse for many students, the college noted that pennyboarders, longboarders, and ‘nice guys who execute nice, clean mall grabs’ may stay. Rollerbladers, however, will be shot on sight.
ES Majors Excited to Still Not Golf
In exhilarating news from the College, students are now finally allowed to use the Ralph Mhyre Golf Course again. Although the news was heartwarming to daddy’s favourite son, it was even more exciting to the environmental science majors who cannot wait to reconvene their annual tradition of never going to the course. According to a wide gamut of students ranging from environmental biology majors all the way to environmental geography majors, the closure of the golf course was an immense blow to their favourite recreational activity: choosing not to golf. Without legal access to the college’s largest water-suck, the students felt unmoored from all purpose and reason for living. Now, however, they can finally regain their sense of belonging, for at 4:30 every afternoon when
the polo shirt-wearers prance off to Ralph Mhyre, they can remember that they are better than the rest of us. “Activism 101 teaches us that there’s a difference between a boycott and a strike” said Environmental Chemistry major Greta Hamburg ‘22.5. “What we’re doing is technically neither, because my tuition still pays for the golf course, and I do not work there...but it’s nice to know I can look in disdain at my classmates from a distance again.” Although the collective of ES majors (formally known as “An Inconvenient Group”) have been practicing their favourite protest slogans such as “clogs over clubs,” and “who even is Ralph Mhyre?” they do still plan on running the golf section of the TAM, as how else are they supposed to flex their new sustainable sneakers.