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The Ubyssey’s Spoof Issue 2021.03.30

EDITORS Content Editor Thomald McDomald Definitely edited NICE on shrooms. Is from Winnipeg, so... You know.

Visuals Editor Deadbeat Gary

Always has a headache at any given moment. Do not approach in the wild, will let you down.

Design Editor Clueless Boy

Ambitious designer who thought this would be the best issue The Ubyssey has ever seen.

CONTRIBUTORS Cornelius Hollworthy, Larry Cocaine, Dave Mirror, Samuel Stupid, Thomald McDomald, Tammy J Gaszinsky, Shnäi Tumblr, Charles Hays, Imaxipad, Milo “Brass Knuckles” Green, Turt L. Necke, Mary Shellstonecraft, Elisabetta Truetti, A Woman in STEM, Jasmeet Singh, Dua Dipa, Aisha Shard, Areal One, Riabuz Ijrih, Cherry Chestnut, Kissedher Sister, Clairvoyant Soup

IN ALL SERIOUSNESS We wish to acknowledge that we work, learn and operate the paper upon the occupied, traditional, ancestral and unceded territory of the Coast Salish peoples, including the xʷməθkʷəy̓əm (Musqueam), Sḵwx̱ wú7mesh (Squamish), Stó:lō and səl̓ilwətaɁɬ/Selilwitulh (Tsleil-Waututh). LEGAL The Ubyssey is the official student newspaper of the University of British Columbia. It is published every Tuesday by The Ubyssey Publications Society. We are an autonomous, democratically run student organization and all students are encouraged to participate. Editorials are chosen and written by the Ubyssey staff. They are the expressed opinion of the staff, and do not necessarily reflect the views of The Ubyssey Publications Society or the University of British Columbia. All editorial content appearing in The Ubyssey is the property of The Ubyssey Publications Society. Stories, opinions, photographs and artwork contained herein cannot be reproduced without the expressed, written permission of The Ubyssey Publications Society. The Ubyssey is a founding member of Canadian

University Press (CUP) and adheres to CUP’s guiding principles. The Ubyssey accepts opinion articles on any topic related to the University of British Columbia (UBC) and/or topics relevant to students attending UBC. Submissions must be written by UBC students, professors, alumni, or those in a suitable position (as determined by the opinions editor) to speak on UBC-related matters. Submissions must not contain racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, harassment or discrimination. Authors and/or submissions will not be precluded from publication based solely on association with particular ideologies or subject matter that some may find objectionable. Approval for publication is, however, dependent on the quality of the argument and The Ubyssey editorial

board’s judgment of appropriate content. Submissions may be sent by email to opinion@ubyssey.ca. Please include your student number or other proof of identification. Anonymous submissions will be accepted on extremely rare occasions. Requests for anonymity will be granted upon agreement from four fifths of the editorial board. Full opinions policy may be found at ubyssey.ca/submit-an-opinion. It is agreed by all persons placing display or classified advertising that if the Ubyssey Publications Society fails to publish an advertisement or if an error in the ad occurs the liability of the UPS will not be greater than the price paid for the ad. The UPS shall not be responsible for slight changes or typographical errors that do not lessen the value or the impact of the ads.


WE INTERVIEWED A DRUG SMUGGLER (and it was really easy because they’re our music editor) Words | Cornelius Hollworthy Photo | Cherry Chestnut


recently got the chance to interview an

the headline, “I smuggled cocaine, here’s

Why did you believe NICE

international drug smuggler. Finding

how it went.”

Magazine tacitly sanctioned this?

an international drug smuggler generally isn’t easy. After almost giving up the search, I re-

It turns out that I was right; it was a

Everyone used NICE’s zero-tolerance

great story. The story just wasn’t written

policy as rolling papers, which made me

by me.

doubt how serious the policy was. Also,

membered something. Our music editor

if you ask someone to work ’til 3 a.m.

at NICE Magazine dabbles in DJing and

Smuggling drugs to get a good

in an office where the bathrooms have

cocaine trafficking. After I put aside my

story, does that follow journalistic

white counters, you know what’s gonna

moral quandaries about interviewing an


happen. Mostly though, I misunderstood

amateur DJ, I asked them to sit down for this interview.

You show me the part of the Cocaine Associated Journalist (CAJ) ethics

my boss when he said “don’t come in to work today, it’s a snow day.”

guidelines that explicitly say ‘no interWhat drove you to get into drug

national drug smuggling.’ It’s the only

How’s prison?


way to get a real deep look into the drug

My room has more square footage than

NICE doesn’t pay us enough to survive


where I was living in Vancouver, the

in Vancouver, so it was really the only

booze is better and I’m more respected

option. Unless I wanted to do something

How did you convince people to

as a convict than I was as a hipster

ridiculous like move out of the city prop-

smuggle drugs for you?


er or rent a slightly less fancy apartment,

I mostly just asked my subordinates and

I had to become an international drug

they said yes. They’re living in Vancou-

Do you have anything else to say?


ver so as you can imagine, they’re pretty

Would you fly to Australia for me if I pay

I also thought it would make a great

desperate for cash. Drug smuggling for

you? You’ll have to use a suitcase with a

story for NICE Magazine. There’s

10k? Most young journalists would do a

suspiciously thick liner.

nothing cooler than international drug

lot worse for a lot less.

smuggling. I could just picture writing

*Recorder clicks off* ☺


WE DID A GAY RANKING OF UBC BUSES Words | Larry Cocaine + Tammy J. Gaszinsky Photo | Jasmeet Singh


e decided to do you all a service and arbitrarily codify buses by how gay they feel. You might never use this information in your life, but we’re going to tell you anyway, in order from straightest to gayest. Enjoy the ride. 12. The R4 Hate it. Fast and new but in a plastic way. It’s almost as if it’s trying to steal glory from more deserving buses. Reeks of capitalism. The opposite of the 99. 11. The 14 and the 4 Too basic. Everywhere. In places it doesn’t need to be. So straight, it will probably date someone of the opposite gender. 10. The 68 Niche, possibly too niche. Straight couple that thinks they’re super edgy because they’re in an open relationship and both of them have septum piercings. Only use it when you don’t want to or can’t walk. Points for accessibility, but not as fun or spontaneous. 9. The 49 Pretty chill, non-threatening. Wouldn’t put it very far up the ranking but we don’t mind it being there. An ally. 8. The 480 We hate this bus. It brings up repressed trauma. It’s messy and crammed

and goes places we don’t need to be. Reminds us of high school. Honestly, that’s all pretty gay, but the 480 simply sucks too much to be ranked higher on this list. 7. The 33 Closeted kid at the GSA who seems nice but never talks. We can relate and empathize. Part of the nebulous gay experience. Maybe it’ll find itself and gain confidence as it grows older. A fine bus, but really a backup option. 6. The 258 Disappointing, but relatable. This bus reminds us of how we make life difficult without reason. Why would you want to take this route? Why rush by things when you can take it slow and enjoy the ride? The idea gives us anxiety. We have a love­/hate relationship with it. 5. The 99 Accessible, welcoming and challenges boundaries and binaries by always being reliable and showing up for everyone. Nonbinary bi vers icon. 4. The N17 The reliable nighttime bus that always comes around. The trick is to find it downtown when you’re wobbling around after a night out. Once you find it, you’re safe. Elder gay who helped you accept yourself by affirming your first

weird haircut. Good bus. Closest thing to calling your mum to rescue you at 2 a.m. from a harrowing house party. 3. The 84 Reliable, trustworthy, sapphic energy. Very neat. Liked it more when it arrived on its own stop by Falter Cage. Felt more special that way. Reminds us of when our gay aunt would arrive solo at family gatherings (without her boring corporate girlfriend) and somehow get genuinely drunk on craft beer and cut loose with Lady Gaga karaoke. 2. The 44 High-femme camp diva: too good to be true, too free to be held down. Not always available, stops running after a while. An unachievable dream. The unpredictability of this infrequent flame is what keeps you going, waiting at the 44 bus stop, deep into the night (even though you know it doesn’t operate that late), chasing the smell of its cheap perfume. You don’t ride the 44 — the 44 rides you. 1. The 25 There is no labelling this bus. The entire energy of this bus is so Queer, the fact that we can’t hope to fit it into an (arbitrary) ranking makes it the epitome of Queer. The 25 is truly the + in LGBTQ+. Something about this bus is so Queer it literally defies ranking. ☺



Words | Dave Mirror Photo | A Woman in STEM


’m in my final year at UBC and I’m looking for some recompense. My money has served as the foundation for plenty of administrator paycheques and Satan Oh-no’s weird hybrid car. It’s time I take a souvenir. The target Ingrid K. Barbs Library is a mainstay for any UBC student. It’s central to campus and features in every glamour shot of the university. Many students have languished in its interior, drowning their brains in knowledge juice ’til the Bell Man tolls. This is for them. I’m going in smart, so I spent a night staking out the operation site. With few campus security patrols going through the area, they’re practically begging for someone to come through and nab a brick. It looks easy — almost too easy. I got bored on my stakeout, so I smoked a fucked-up amount of weed.

This turned out to be the key to the whole op. Now, I need you to know that as a NICE writer, I’m generally great at handling my cannabis. We’ve written about it in literally every single way possible. But this shit was hitting different. I started reflecting on my actions. I started feeling… remorse? Pain NICE writers aren’t supposed to feel remorse. That’s a byproduct of the job and a stipulation of any contract extension. I was supposed to be wrung dry of the stuff long ago. But that night, I started to see. I saw the moonlight shining on the targeted brick. I saw the campus security guards who’d likely get a stern talking-to if a slab piece went missing. I saw the picture of IKB I keep in my heart-shaped locket with its perfectly

complete stonework — a piece of which I was planning on absconding with. In short, I saw my own humanity reflected in that stone. Fuck NICE. Fuck stunt journalism. Fuck the denigration of a hallowed place of learning. That night, I felt my passion for this university roar like a beast when I considered threatening it. I wouldn’t do it. Denouement Standing there, before Coroner’s Library, staring at my target across the courtyard, I heard my phone’s email app ping between my sobs. An email from UBC? “COVID-19 has been tough and we hear you. Give us your feedback on tuition increases for 2021/22!” I took two bricks. ☺



Aries: Stop yelling at me, I get it, you’re an Aries. Now get off your bike, this is a pedestrian-priority road. Taurus: Get off the couch and do your geography homework. That GIS work isn’t going to map itself. And stop lighting a candle every time you need to feel something.

Sagittarius: I hate to break it to you but you won’t be able to travel to every country on your list. You might only be able to get to Wesbrook Village. Capricorn: Stop telling me to get a real job! Also, how are you enjoying your commerce degree?

Gemini: Some of the worst people are Geminis. Don’t hold up this stereotype. But congrats on getting into honours poli sci.

Aquarius: PLEASE shut up about being a rebel. You’re literally just wearing Doc Martens and shouting in the middle of Main Mall.

Cancer: You are not your friend group’s parent. You are their equal. Knock it off. Now go finish your poetry assignment.

Pisces: I’m so scared of you. Your ability to understand abstract philosophical concepts is too powerful. ☺

Leo: How can one person be so full of grandeur yet so insecure? Oh, right, you’re in the master’s of management program. Virgo: Stop telling us what to do!!!! We get it, you’re on the dean’s list! Libra: Literally make a decision for once in your life. You can’t major in four different things.


Scorpio: Stop it with the brooding, you’re literally just born in autumn. And if you’re going to brood, do it in the Derrick Rose Garden, where nobody will see or care.

Dr. Ronald Fenceman Human extortion expert Dr. Ronald Fenceman, OBE, has filed suit against Nice 15 times for articles that portray him as a condescending chest wound, regardless of their absolute factuality.

Dr. Breault Cheltenham I smoked hash with human resources professor Dr. Breault Cheltenham after my COHR 311 final. He told me that if I put this encounter in print he would bring the full force of Canadian libel law down upon me “with the strength of Jove.” Dr. Tonya Chow Has grappled with the University of Butt Crack on six different occasions to stop its systematic extermination of all the black-capped chickadees on campus — according to their 2017 settlement, we can’t even mention her by name, let alone the subject of the lawsuit. Dr. Bike Beaver After his fifth divorce, Professor Beaver has a lawyer on retainer to protect against any allegations of belligerence in the classroom. His catchphrase is “good thing I have tenure!” Dr. Sherri Berri Has beaten three charges of police car arson and has the perpetual backing of the Canadian Civil Liberties Association — will not spoof out of pure respect. Dr. Maria Turgenev Is essentially the Spartacus of the academic publishing world. Dr. Turgenev has gotten 16 articles retracted for misrepresenting her support of the Cuban government and has accrued over $4 million in settlement payments, accounting for the 2018 price bump in 4 leading poli sci journals. ☺




fter a month of scoping out the bushes outside Falter Cage on

an unrelated drug mule scoop, NICE reporters observed that a fifth-floor window of the under-construction quarantine facility was always covered. After a brief investigation last week, NICE solved the mystery of Chard Vernon’s whereabouts. In September, the first-year arts student arrived on campus from

Well, yeah. We’ve all been there,

Sacramento for his mandatory two-

but what exactly do you mean by

The Investigation

week quarantine in Cage.

“pretty geeked”?

When NICE went to trace Sporedash,

I stashed some shrooms from home in

we found it led not to Boordash

my socks, right? And then, have you

headquarters in San Francisco but just a

heard of macrodosing?

half mile away: the UBC department of

Seven months later, Vernon was still in there. We interviewed Vernon to break the news that he’s free to start his


life on campus, and to find out how


management seemingly forgot about an

It’s like microdosing, but you take the

student Julie Myers was frantically

entire person.

whole thing. Anyway, when those ran

typing up a final report.

out around... day three? I just started Hi Chard, how’s it going?

Boordashing them.

Heyyy. I’m alright, I mean, it’s been a long two weeks.

In a third-floor lab, psychology grad

Her research question was “How does a dietary regimen of placebo psilocybin supplements affect

Boordash brought you shrooms on

the psychology of a prospective

the UBC campus?

international relations student in

Chard... this may be difficult to

Yeah, it’s their new pilot program —

complete confinement and isolation?”

believe, but you’ve been in this


room for seven months. Whoa. That’s fucked up. It is. What happened? How much

When NICE confronted her about the reason for the patently unethical

We may have found our drug

experiment, Myers said, “We just


wanted to see what would happen.”


were you aware of the time

Myers is currently under review by the UBC Ethics Board.


Nothing. Chard… I’m sorry that

Umm... [coughs] sorry, you’ve gotta be

you had to go through this for

moved into a dorm. Reportedly, he

the first person I’ve talked to since POLI

some reason, and I hope you can

is adjusting remarkably well and is

100 on Monday, the day after I got here.

recover and enjoy the rest of your

considering switching to Sauder.

I got pretty geeked Tuesday and slept

first year at UBC. Also, would you

through most of my classes last week...

mind giving us your Sporedash

to get Sporedash off the ground, for

Sorry, did you say seven months?


real.” ☺

Vernon, meanwhile, has finally

“I’m planning on investing $100,000



Words | Shnäi Tumblr Illustration | Areal One


eah, I have a lot of opinions on clothing...don’t you? I call bullshit if you haven’t walked down Main Mall and seen at least three people wearing something that made you think, ‘Did a raccoon dig that shit out of a dumpster?’ And it’s probably more than three if it’s the Welcome Back BBQ. DO Wear a Canada Moose jacket, Canadian winters aren’t anything to laugh about. Those CM-sporting fuckers are the kind to drop $50 on a Guber downtown for a $300 dinner because “it was too cold.” Worth it if you want to own something that screams ‘I’m rich’ in a city that snows once a year. DON’T Bother paying for coat check at The Armpit, there are better places to power trip. Your precious puffer won’t look too cute once someone’s thrown up a $6 Gagermeister on it!

DO Invest in a basic-as-fuck black Fritzia puffer because all of your sisters are buying it *omg!!!!!* How else would Greek Life assert its superiority (c.o.n.s.t.a.n.t.l.y) if not through #minimalist fashion that is all about looking the same as everyone else?! Also, how was partying during the pandemic?

DON’T Go to The Guyllery at 4 p.m., there’ll be at least 10 other girls who look

just like you. It’ll be confusing for the bartender, but to you it’ll seem like one of those carnival fun houses with funky reflections. Trust me, I went there and got confused FOR you. DO Buy Bluntstones. Nothing says “I AM FROM VANCOUVER!!!” (or “I’M TRYING TO FIT INTO VANCOUVER!!”) more than these sturdy Australian motherfuckers. These are not for the weak, only for the indie. Pair it up with a Batagonia jacket and hop onto the 99 B-Line for extra points. DON’T Try to be original, it’s not worth it in the rain. Your Bluntstones will probably take you further in November than those sexy boots you were eyeing up at Steve Gladden. You’ll just have to sell your originality to be a part of the Bluntstones cult, is all. ☺


I WROTE STUNT JOURNALISM ON KETAMINE: THIS ARTICLE Words | Samuel Stupid Illustration | Deadbeat Gary


hen I pitched this story to NICE, I expected them to say, “No, it isn’t 2008, nobody wants to read about people taking ketamine anymore.” But to my surprise, they accepted. The plan is to take a moderate dose of ketamine and write about my experience. I hope to show the world what drugs feel like for the first time since the Beat Poets, back when they all took benzedrine or something. I’m currently sitting at my desk and I can’t stop staring at the words on my screen. The chair beneath me feels like it might not

be a chair. Is it a cloud? Or maybe there is no chair and I’m floating? Like, I see the chair but I don’t know if it’s really there, you know? I just walked to my kitchen, opened the fridge and stared at the empty space around the bottle of Tabasco sitting empty on the top shelf. I was trying to remember the term for ‘hot sauce’ when I realized I had fallen over and hit my head on the fridge door. I laid on the floor for a while trying to figure out if that was hard enough to be concussed. My roommate helped me up and told me, “Go the fuck back to your room, you loser. Stop staring at

the fridge every time you’re high, it does the thing where it beeps when it’s been open too long and you’re going to make my cheese platter go bad.” I stood there in the kitchn staring at my rommate for about 20 minutes befor I realized she left. Her aura ws still there in fromt of me the whole time. after i dragge myself bacj to my desk,, I started to fel like th floor went away, and insted wasd a foam pit. Prety cool. I opened up my wjndow amd the breeze felt like god ws pouringh water on me. I thimk I am the nexzt Jcak Kerouac. ☺




Words | Charles Hays Photos | Elisabetta Truetti + A Woman in STEM + Riabuz Ijrih

s a second-year student at UBC, I have seen my fair share of sad, dated or just straight-up bad buildings (President Satan Oh-No, I’m humbly asking you to remove the entire Tee-Cannon complex). I began the research for this article thinking

UBC students were too nice to say what they really thought. However, I found that it was actually the opposite! Most students, when offered an outlet to say what they really thought, had a lot to say… here are the top five worst-rated buildings on campus according to students.

5) Cum-istry Building “Objectively ugly.” “Controversial opinion: the stained glass looks dated and the building looks like a prison.” “Something is growing in the urinals here. The washrooms would NOT pass a health inspection.” At least science students have the new Biology building? 6/10. I personally like the stained glass. 4) Place Planier “Planier’s only redeeming quality is its relative proximity to my classes.” “I hate the dining hall. Seriously, why does Totem have a better dining hall.” “No elevators in the older buildings…” “Seriously thin walls. When I say EVERYONE can hear EVERYTHING — I mean it.” The overall student consensus on Planier is that it’s intensely mediocre. The dining hall and limited washers and dryers are a huge problem. Also, why does Elrond Hubbards always seem to

be indefinitely closed for 15 minutes at a time? 5.5/10. “I take pride in the fact that Planier is at least marginally better than Modem.” 3) Modem Park “I’m always late to class because Modem is sooooo far from the rest of campus.” “I should have applied to live in Borchard Commons.” “At least we have a forest nearby??” If you can deal with being effectively cut off from the rest of campus and the forest nearby being used for…all sorts of shenanigans... Modem isn’t that bad. Solutions: A bike and noise-cancelling headphones to block out the noise of parties in the forest. 5/10. At least Modem has more washers and dryers than Planier. 2) Justin Bieber Macdomald Toothsome Building “I thought only SFU’s buildings were ugly…”

“My tuition goes towards THIS?!?” “What is this building?? I’ve literally never heard of it.” 4/10. The little-known dentistry building that NO ONE has heard of looks even MORE prison-like than the Cum-istry Building. How is that even possible? 1) Tee-Cannon Tower “Dingy, dark and overall just an eyesore.” “Has anyone ever gone in there?” “I just hate brutalist architecture.” “I regret being in arts because of this building.” No one I spoke to had actually been inside Tee-Cannon Tower, but 100 per cent of the students I spoke to agreed that it was the worst building on campus. 3/10 for the hypothetical views from the upper floors. ☺


THERE IS NO POINT IN SUING US Words | Larry Cocaine Photo | Deadbeat Gary


et’s face the facts. You’re not going to agree with everything we say. And

this is not because you don’t actually agree with us. Obviously, we offer the objective truth, hard facts, no room for ambiguities or varied interpretations. After all, that is what journalism is all about. You can’t disagree with us — ­ because science. You’re going to disagree with us because you can. Because in this world that is already flooded with grief and pain and people who are out to make life harder for others, you have decided to be one such person. We don’t know who hurt you, or what you’re dealing with or why you feel like you don’t belong, but for some reason you’ve decided to take it out on us. You’re offended? By what? Our ability to live life at its fullest? Are you envious? Are you projecting? What do you hope to achieve by this? Attention? Money? Clearly you could use some to pay for the years of therapy you so obviously

say this one last time: it is NOT our

have nothing to lose — they’ve already


fault if you have bad character. Grow

sold their souls to the corporate machine.

Look, you can do what you want, but

up, dude. Accept yourself. Hold yourself

They are invincible. Do you know what

ultimately, suing us is not going to get

accountable. There is no growth without

you are? Nothing.

you what you really need. We can’t tell

acknowledging how low the bar already

you what you need, we’re a magazine!

is. You bring shame to your family.

Fine, you’re not convinced. Go on then, do it, we dare you. Sue us. Just remember this. No, it isn’t libel

If you’re still not cognizant enough to

Don’t fool yourself! Use your time and money for something productive, like buying a personality. Or buy a chateau

comprehend that any problems you may

in France and never come back. No one

have with our paper are an unnecessarily

wants to hear the garbage you spew

because everything we publish is the

manufactured outcome of your own

in your sleep about how journalism

objective truth. Cold hard facts. How

insecurities, then you should know that

has been bought and is no longer

dare you insinuate that we’re lying to the

there is no way you can win a lawsuit

independent or democratic blah blah

public? Or that we might be bad at our

against us. We have Malt Frisney money


jobs? Or that we might make mistakes?

behind us. We can and will be hiring the

Reconcile with the facts. ­

No, it isn’t defamation either. You

best Carvard-educated lawyers, who will

You can never win. ☺

know why? Because it’s true. We will

come at you with full force because they




he internet is a dark, terrible place.


conventional incel markers. Where

Incels are some of the people who

Ari is short for something — incel is

incels are generally understood to

also short for something. That was my

be upper-middle-class white kids

make it so.

first clue. After that came their cavalier,

radicalized online and weirdly obsessed

celibate,” the term describes a type of

Shorthand for “involuntarily

cocksure attitude. Incels are infamously

with making their beds, Yusra was born

person who, among other things, is

reclusive and hard to engage in

and raised in Syria, having fled with her

obsessive, sexually frustrated and often

conversation. On the surface, Ari seems

family during the war. She’s studying to

fixates on other people’s behaviours,

the perfect opposite.

get her MD and join Doctors Without

reading too deeply into their actions. Reports from the University of Butt Crack suggest that, on average, 1 out of every 12 people is an incel.

But to the trained, masterful eye, the flaws in the facade appear. Ari simply pretends to be a

Borders. By all accounts, Yusra’s down to earth, altruistic and damnably good looking.

personable, charming individual to

But I can see something — something

throw keen eyes off their trail. I won’t be

behind that warm, lively glint in her eyes

fooled that easily.

— that shakes me to my core.

I’ve narrowed it down to three sexy




I admit that Yusra doesn’t hit the

The dark horse of the competition,

I am currently investigating my 11-person seminar to understand which of my classmates fits the bill.

Leo seems the least incel-y, but could very well be pulling the wool over this reporter’s eyes. Appearing well adjusted and quick witted, the breakout rooms I’ve shared with Leo have yielded little incel evidence, only quickened heartbeats and sweatier palms. The thing that drew my attention toward Leo was the fact that his partner is, like, constantly coming into his frame. They’ll tousle his numerous locks, whisper in his strong ear or touch his rugged shoulder, likely smelling his perfume, which I imagine is vanilla, oak and hints of sandalwood. I’ve yet to figure out which of my strong-jawed, square-shouldered classmates is the incel, since most of them don’t outwardly appear to be versed in the dark arts of the internet, and none exhibit signs of behavioural fixation or sexual frustration. Ah, well, guess that just means more titillating evidence gathering for me! ☺



Words | Samuel Stupid Photos | Clairvoyant Soup


our twenties are for getting tattooed. You could be commemorating a loved one, learning to love your body or even just decorating your skin. Tattoos have vastly different meanings for different people. But some have decided to commemorate their time at university by getting UBC tattoos. We talked to some of these freaks to find out why they spent money to get tattoos about UBC, a place where they already spend thousands of dollars per year on tuition.




Why did you get this tattoo? Dave Fuck: I spent so much of my parents’ money on getting a degree in forestry. I still don’t even know what the ‘silvi’ in ‘silviculture’ means. I thought it meant silver, but someone gave me a weird look when I said that once so I figured I was wrong. I just keep forgetting to look it up. Anyway, I thought that after wasting a portion of my parents money on my degree that I could at least waste more of it on a snarky tattoo.

Why this specifically? Brandy Klark: I’ve wasted so many hours in that line. I wanted to extend the suffering to a leg piece. It’s kind of a celebration of my resilience.

What compelled you to get this? Laura Palmer: I never really trusted these. I got it more to keep myself questioning them. They’re everywhere but I never see them doing anything.

What’s your Tims order? Black iced coffee and three Timbits. I like suffering.

Do you think they’re watching us? Yes. ☺

Do you think you’ll ever regret it? Eh, who cares. I’ll spend more of their money on removing it.


I VISITED A GHOST TOWN DURING COVID-19 Words | Imaxipad Illustration | Samuel Stupid


eing trapped inside for the last year hasn’t been all that bad. I’m not a big fan of human interaction so when it was time to put up the walls, I was relieved. I love being alone. From picking up new hobbies, listening to way too much ASMR, starting a TikTok for my small business and dabbling in the dark arts, lockdown has been great. There’s no one I would rather spend my life with than me. But recently, I’ve realized that I may have Hobbit-holed™ myself into not knowing how to communicate with humans anymore. I can still talk to ghosts though, which is pretty sick because my mom’s basement gets a bit scary sometimes. So I grabbed my keys, kissed my rabbit’s foot keychain and decided that I would go on a short trip to a small town called UBC. UBC had been a ghost town for some time now. Buildings were covered in vines, the lawn was unkempt and there was a yellow tinge to the sky. Almost post-apocalyptic. I’ve always been fascinated with the lore of UBC. Ancient stories talk about a

three-legged dog named Kip who would befriend lonely travellers. Some say that Kip is looking for a companion — others, their fourth leg. When I arrived I was greeted by a picture of Thunderbird. The bird was weirdly jacked. I got literal chills. Like, what? Who is that bird and when will he steal my girl? I continued down into the town and passed this place called Main Mall. There was no Fritzia. What kind of mall doesn’t have a Fritzia? My stomach rumbled, and well, what’s a travel blog post without a little local delicacy review? I walked into the only place with lights on: Jim Mortons. Once up at the counter, I am greeted by a short woman. I order a small mocha Iced Capp because I know if I get a medium, it’ll run right through me. Jim Mortons Lady (JML) offerred to show me around. I agreed. She tells me that she’s the only person who lives here. Weird. What kind of person lives in a ghost town? We left and walked toward the Derrick Rose Garden.

She told me about the old-timey Almonds Matter Society, and how they were all birds in people costumes. No wonder their building was called the Nest. The entire time I was roaming this town with JML, I felt a presence following me. I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination, but then I saw them. Kip. Kip is beauty and grace, elegance and taste. I turned to JML and yelled, “Why aren’t you freaking out? It the Kip!” I stared at the majestic animal from across the university. Our eyes locked, and we understood each other’s struggle. Sure, I’m an upper-middleclass university graduate who lives in my mommy’s basement and Kip is an injured coyote who roams UBC alone, but they knew. They knew how hard it had been for my artisanal skateboard shop to take off. A single tear rolled down my face. The wind is warm. And Kip started walking toward me and JML. Kip started running, and so did I, and we embraced each other. Pure bliss. I turned and JML was crying too. She came to hug Kip and me, and suddenly, I opened my eyes. I was back in my bedroom. No. No. No. I had so many questions! I wanted to learn. I couldn’t believe this. I have to go back. I grabbed my keys and saw that in place of my lucky rabbit foot, there was a lucky coyote’s foot. I looked up to the sky, kissing the paw. Thank you, Kip. ☺


UBC’S SAD, WEIRD ALMONDS MATTER SOCIETY ELECTION Words | Thomald McDomald Illustration | Samuel Stupid


t’s not just U of T (University of

(AMS), every year. The Alcohol

in earnest for the ‘abstain’ ballot

TomatoTown) that’s having a crisis

Mastery Shitfest (AMS) holds races

option. Polly Darton, 1 of 5 candidates

for the presidency, a number of vice-

for the Board of Grobans, broke

presidential positions, the Senate and

electoral guidelines by going on a

bulldoze the Derrick Rose Garden

the Board of Grobans. Every year,

shitposting bender that lasted 34 hours

to make way for a bigger parking

elections combine the ruthlessness

straight, culminating in a bizarre rant/

lot for the Chan’t Centre — and the

of low-stakes academia with the

freestyle rap rebuking VP Students

Chan’t Centre itself, if it’s not careful.

intellectual rigour of Model UN and

Jamesley Watter-Carrey in her official

A candidate for VP external fondly

the democratic principles of a Russian

campaign Clubhouse room.

remembers her time in the Place

presidential race.

of ideas. One Senate candidate wants to

Planier garden suites, where they used

The Articulate Muck Slakers’

The Senate race ended catastrophically, as all the current

to distill chardonnay in the lounge

(AMS) 2021 elections were no

senators conspired to overthrow the

sinks. Another asked the audience to

different. Ray-William Sikka, the

‘tyrannical yoke’ of the AMS itself ­–

invest in his milkshake startup, Big

unopposed candidate for VP internal,

sedition, as per electoral guidelines,

Shake. All of them say that they have

was brigaded in the Goom chat by

disqualifies a person’s candidacy, an

the answer.

members of UBC Improv, condemning

improvement over previous years

his ‘can’t do’ attitude. Buck ‘Armstrong’

and over those of SFU (Super Friends

holds elections for its student ‘union,’

The University of Butt Crack (UBC)

Lance, running unopposed for the

University). ☺

the AppleBea’s Memorial Society

presidency, seemed to be campaigning


I EDITED SPOOF ON SHROOMS Words + Images | Thomald McDomald


hen I took on the role of content editor at NICE, I thought to myself, “How hard could it be?” What I found was that I have an insurmountable aversion to GOOgOO Sheets and navigating all the links and nonsense that is the bread and butter of NICE editorship. Thus, I took a small dose of mushrooms as an attempt to alleviate some of that anxiety and edit one of my own pieces, “UBC’s sad, weird Almonds Matter Society election.” What followed was a trip that was characterized by what can only be described as vicious and all-encompassing self-antagonism. This was documented in the GOOgOO comments I wrote on my own piece in the capacity of content editor. ☺




arlier this week, a fight broke out in front of the Cum-istry Building. According to onlookers who witnessed the beginning of the scuffle, violence emerged when a disgruntled forestry student retaliated against an engineering student for stepping on his Bluntstones. Because this is not the sort of heart-racing, chest-thumping spectacle students usually expect to see on campus, a small crowd quickly formed. But the fight wasn’t even that good. The engineering

Words | Milo “Brass Knuckles” Green Photo | Elisabetta Truetti Illustration | Dua Dipa

student kept throwing punches with his elbows way out to his sides. As an engineering student, you’d expect they’d have mastered the fundamentals of torque by this point. Now I am no black belt, but I did complete a two-week free trial for a mixed martial arts class in Grade 11. These two guys were throwing punches with their thumbs hanging outside of their fists and it was looking like they were really going to hurt each other, so I had to step in. Allegedly, I was knocked out almost immediately after inserting

myself between the two brawlers, allowing the engineer to escape. Our fact-checkers are currently looking into that claim. According to witnesses, the forestry student called me a “stupid, stupid idiot,” but I don’t think that’s accurate. In war, there really are no victors. ☺ — With files from a Tribble Oh’s employee




f I had a dollar for every time someone told me about how much they enjoyed the food from residence dining halls, I’d have half a dollar. More and more people are vocalising how utterly trash the food options at UBC are, and dining halls are the worst offenders. This shift has been a positive one: first-year students now actively avoid consuming the meals for which they pay thousands of dollars, and are seeking out edible food, which in turn may save their lives (claim unverifiable). Surely the dining halls can’t be that bad, though? I spoke with fifth-year student Ryan Rambles, who was an RA in Planier for three years before he was fired for stealing $400 worth of Green2Go containers and assorted cutlery. Rambles confirmed that dining halls were as horrible as they seemed. “Yeah, I ate at Rather in Planier in my first year and a bit in my second before I realized that my bi-weekly food poisoning always happened after I ordered the tacos. After that, I just stopped going there, except for when my Residence Life Manager yelled at me for not ‘promoting good residence culture’ or whatever.” Rambles confirmed he wasted $15,000 on mandatory meal plans, putting him more in debt than his tuition. “I tried to recoup some of that from the cutlery that I ‘borrowed,’ but all together it only sold for $20 on Craigslist, so that was a bummer.” “As a first year, it was tough,”

said B.L. Chew, president of the UBC Greater Residence Options for Sustenance Society (GROSS). “I bought a coffee from Yeast once, and I’ve never been more crestfallen about anything in my life.” When asked about the work she did within UBC GROSS, Chew stated that she “strongly disagreed with dining halls as a concept,” but considering that the club was mostly just for resume padding, she had settled on “mildly complaining about them rather than actually trying to dismantle them.” Despite this, Chew says there are ways to survive in the dining halls. “It’s important to make use of the rotating stations where all the passible food is sold. You can go there once or twice a week, but no more than that, or else they might realize the food there is decent and

make efforts to reduce the quality.” Similarly, Chew recommended trying to eat at your ‘local’ dining halls like Rather and Yeast rather than going to Closed Kitchen every day so that residences don’t hike up the prices there and permanently close the others. “It’s better to take your life in your hands than risk being robbed any further.” Ultimately, dining halls are a lose-lose situation. The real dilemma rests in whether you risk your money or your health. “The food choices we make at dining halls have a hidden side,” said Rambles. “We don’t often think about the garbage we’re putting in our bodies, but we’ll pay for it one day, with interest. On top of actually paying for it. Damn, no wonder I can’t afford housing in Vancouver.” ☺


GOING TO 10 CLASSES ON DMT Eyes? Opened. GPA? Raised. Eldritch terrors? Awoken. Words | Dave Mirror Illustration | Dua Dipa


he first class was interesting. The second, equally so. The third, tiresome. The tenth? Nearly impossible. I took a powerful psychoactive substance that is known to make you want to melt, and then went to my classes. I learned a grand total of one (1) thing that my professors were trying to teach me. I’ve never stared at something with such intensity as the equation my professor wrote on the virtual whiteboard in my first class. It only got worse when she mentioned “de Tocqueville” that I began to suspect this wasn’t PHYS 233 — that feeling only grew in over the next three hours of what was, apparently, an honours seminar on something. The substance kept working its magic over the next couple of classes, making me a sponge for the knowledge that my professors wept. In RUSS 356, I learned that Russian doesn’t use articles like “the.” Wow. EOSC 109 took me to the depths of the ocean. Well, alright, maybe that was the military-grade psychostimulant, but I think my professor appreciated my dilated attentiveness during class. In ANTH 522, I remembered that Russian doesn’t use articles like “the.” A

beautiful language, the Russians have. For ECON 102, I had a midterm that took a fun turn! It seems that when you don’t blink for about 30 minutes — in my case, out of abject horror — Panopticorio scans your face frantically until bluescreening! Dave: 1. Big Tech: 0. Lovecraftian Horror Sitting Before Me: 99. After a few boring classes, I joined my ninth one: religion. Given I had already seen God many times that day, I was confident I could ace the presentation I’d been ignoring all semester. “God is dead.” The class chuckles. They think I’m joking. “I killed her.” The professor’s brow furrows. “You all shuffle toward a cliff, believing it to be peace.” I see someone crying, another curled up on their chair, mouthing nonsense. I remember I’m not in a religion course. I am forcibly removed from the Goom call. The day was packed full with enriching literature and mind-altering substances. I can’t believe I’ve learned one thing today! There’s only one more course left. Last comes… this. This article you’re

reading. This is my last course. You’re scoffing mentally, thinking, ‘What a dumb gimmick for this article to end on.’ But are you sure it’s a gimmick? You’re trying awfully hard to control your facial expressions, despite it being a ‘dumb gimmick,’ no? And boy, did you read that last sentence quickly. Maybe reaching the end of this article will get this outta your head, eh? Maybe. But there’s always a chance it sticks around. I stick around. Much like how you started reading this article thinking, ‘DMT is just a short-term psychostimulant, it’d be funny for someone to go to a bunch of courses on it, but it wouldn’t do anything.’ Like I said before, there’s always a chance something… remains. I’ve awoken. I’m more powerful than you could ever imagine. I know the feeling in your gut. I feel the change in the wind. Once I reach my all-powerful form, I Will Be Complete. All I have left to say is this: take care of each other. ☺ Editor’s note: NICE writer Dave Mirror was hit by a bus shortly after submitting this article. Our condolences to the Mirror family. ☺



Words | Mary Shellstonecraft Photo | Anonymous


had four midterms in one week. I was freaking out, so I complained to a friend while we smoked some weed before our study session. He said that shrooms might help me with my test anxiety. I decided it was worth a shot and would make a fun article. He called his shroom guy to hook me up. I started out by GOOgOOing how to take shrooms and for some reason, a Who?byssey article from 2016 was the first GOOgOO result. Armed with the first three paragraphs (who reads a whole article?), shrooms and ginger, I felt ready for my midterm week. For the sake of this highly scientific, peerreview-pending experiment, dosage and exam conditions were kept as constant as possible. I do not own a scale so the amount of shrooms used was guesswork. Exam one The exam started, and then it ended. Importantly, I wasn’t anxious. I’m just not sure I answered any questions. Exam two This exam lasted forever. I am convinced it wasn’t 50 minutes but 8 hours. The blue light on my computer kept reconfiguring into kaleidoscope shapes. My professor is also really into colourful visuals — who knew a Golgi apparatus could be so pretty? This exam lasted

forever, so I think I answered every question.

crying. I love that my whole class has now seen me snotty cry.

Exam three I felt confident going into this one since I hadn’t been anxious yet. But boy was I wrong. I now understand what people mean by a bad trip. I don’t want to talk about it, but my editor told me I have to exploit myself for content. I made virtual eye contact with my professor and was convinced the whole time she knew I was tripping and that she was going to call the cops for my use of an illicit substance. Last time, my computer’s blue light made pretty shapes. This time, the blue light was judging me. It was awful. I had several panic attacks and my professor emailed me afterwards to check if I was okay because I had apparently spent the whole time

Exam four I asked my editor if I could end my experiment after my third exam. The coordinating editor emailed me back and said I was contractually required to keep going. My computer swayed. The blue light boogied. Time was stagnant and slowly ceased to exist. As the questions danced in front of me, I realized I was a genius and knew all of the answers to my exam. I definitely got 100 per cent. I have yet to receive my results but I think I did alright. 75 per cent of the time I wasn’t anxious, and that’s a higher efficacy rate than some vaccines, so I would say it worked. To get your shroom exam help for finals, call 1-800-Shrooms. ☺




f you were a university student in the 2010s, in a time before raising virtual Goom hands and making your own shitty coffee between classes (as opposed to spending your res dollars on shitty branded coffee), you will probably remember what it was like to walk to class, have to talk to people you accidentally met in first year and go to in-person lectures. Long gone are the days of standing in a queue at Mike’s Cafe before shuffling begrudgingly towards Tee-Cannon to attend the history class you only went to because you had a crush on the professor. You miss the days when you knew what it was like to make a brief second of eye contact with a stranger, recognize the familiar sadness in their eyes and feel like you’ve known them your entire life. Perhaps you liked going to class because it offered you discipline, or perhaps you were a fan of rewatching old episodes of Ketchup is the New Mustard in the immersive environment of your chemistry class. Whatever it was, only true 2010s students (or anyone older than that, I suppose) will understand

the painful nostalgia that comes from realising that you will have to spend an entire academic year not hiding from vicious seagulls out to peck every crumb of quesadilla away from you. We asked some veteran second years to tell us what they miss the most. Printing papers as an adventure sport “I miss the rush of getting to the library five minutes before class to print out my term papers, stumbling to organize them and stapling my fingers by accident,” said Racecar Rodriguez, wiping a tear off her face. “Now I have to use the printer in my parents’ bedroom to print out lecture slides right before the midterm just to feel something. It’s been a really tough time.” Going to class while sick Lippocrates remembered the rewarding hit of dopamine you get after successfully undertaking a challenging task. “You know, it’s difficult to remember how hard you work and to appreciate yourself when life is passing you by so

quickly.” They paused and took a deep breath. “That’s why I liked to show up to lectures even when I was burning up and spewing flu germs. Everyone could see how committed I was, how much I persevered. It meant a lot to me and profoundly improved my self-esteem.” At that point, Lippocrates had to take a minute and walked out of the room. Navigating the meandering halls to get to office hours We caught Zad Gad in the middle of a skating session. “Dude, I never thought I would say this, but I miss wasting half an hour to get to office hours. Now I just waste half an hour looking for the Goom link that my prof has forgotten to post. It’s kind of the same, but it’s not the same, dude.” While we can now appreciate the beauty of being able to nap in between classes, keeping our cameras off to avoid social interaction at all costs and eating your French grandmother’s amazing ratatouille every night, the current university experience is just not the same as it was back in the day. ☺



Words | Thomald McDomald Photo | Deadbeat Gary


tunt journalism, the practice of risking some facet of your own body or mind in order to write a story, is a big part of what we do here at NICE. This usually refers to stories such as trying to live in the Nest for a year or going undercover as a Charleton journalism student. However, nobody ever bothered to explain this to me. Last week, someone suggested that I think of an attractive piece of stunt journalism to highlight an important issue. Vancouver has several architectural features that are antagonistic towards unhoused members of the community. These measures are usually implemented to prevent people from sleeping in public spaces, such as outside of stores or on park benches. Before anyone told me that stunt journalism did not actually involve performing real stunts, I ventured out with my skateboard onto the streets of Vancouver, mic’d up and ready to illustrate the inhumanity of

hostile architecture. This is the transcript from my reporting. “Alright, I’m out here on Cambie and I’ve spotted this fucked-looking bench that was installed by the city and is supposedly an ‘art installation’... here we go…” (skateboarding sounds) “Mmm, shit shit BLECHGG!” (flesh slaps concrete) “FUCK. Okay, that was fucked. That was fucked. Point made. I could not grind this bench — ­­ ahhhh, fuck — nobody could sit here, much less sleep here. Are people shopping here at night? No. So why is this here?” Next, I attempted to hippie jump over one of the benches outside City Hall, dried blood ornamenting my gashed elbow. “City Hall, everyone… paragon of civic reliability. These middle rails on the benches make it look like you’re sexless Puritans, but we all know what these

are really for. I’m gonna get a little bit of a run up and then jump onto the bench while the board rolls under and try to get back on, and we know exactly how that’ll pan out. Alright, alright…” (skateboard sounds, concerned onlookers stop to watch) “Oh, fuck, oh man, I’m not good enough to — fuck, AHH fuck!” (crunching sounds, gasp from the crowd) “I tripped over the middle rail, ahh, fucking ass. I barely know how to skateboard, what — what am I doing out here?” I went home and wrote this article, confident that it has conveyed my point about both the inhumane nature of hostile architecture and the danger of hostile urban planning. Furthermore, I resign my position at this magazine, as I have found the lifestyle to be incompatible with my physical wellbeing. ☺




id you know you can kill a person with a handbell? Neither did I. Well, okay, fine. The handbells choir has never killed anybody (as far as we know). But there is a terrible, fucked-up history of the handbells choir that the world wasn’t ready to hear. Until now. They’re having tryouts Auditions are a practice where a group of people listen to prospective members play their instruments, which is practically eugenics. The purposeful selection of only the best handbell players is a way of ensuring the choir continues to be the best it can — but what happens to the shitty handbell players? A rejected prospect says it ruined his life. “The rejection and pain were too much. My mother told me to pack my things and leave when I told her I didn’t get in,” said Joshua Bell, who comes from a long line of handbells choir members. He since has had to move in with his brother, who rejected handbells altogether. Chronic tinnitus The very act of having a handbells choir

is potentially the definition of torture. One audience member of a handbells choir performance told NICE that they couldn’t get the resonant chime of the instrument out of their head for over a day. “I attended a handbells choir performance where they did covers of pop songs. Once they started playing ‘Clocks’ by Coldplay I realized the ringing was there to stay,” said the audience member, who asked to remain anonymous for fear of their friends finding out they went to a handbells choir performance. “I don’t know how they’re allowed to do this. It’s inhumane.”

Do the chime? Do the time You’re probably thinking to yourself, “How are these degenerates allowed to continue terrorizing the UBC

Words | Dave Mirror + Samuel Stupid Illustration | Deadbeat Gary

community?” Well, hopefully, they won’t be allowed for much longer. Local MLA and self-described “bell buster” Donald Baby is taking a stand against the boisterous club with a freshly-tabled piece of legislation titled, “An Act Banning All Sounds One Cannot Make Love To.” We sat down with Baby for an exclusive interview, where he described the impetus behind the bellbreaking bill. “I tried having sex with those chimes playing on a nearby radio. I could not.” MLA Baby isn’t the only one experiencing handbell-related marital problems. Since the club first started gonging, rates of divorce in the area have gone up precipitously, with many newly single individuals flocking to — and subsequently fornicating with — members of the choir. When contacted for an interview about said pipe-laying, club Media Officer Loretta “Electric Bell” Bellagio refused, saying she was “too busy getting [her] brass shined, if y’know what [she’s] saying.”☺

crappy water.

straight from the tap. tastes like shit.


Profile for The Ubyssey

March 30, 2021 - NICE: The Ubyssey's Spoof Issue  

This year we spoofed Vice Magazine.

March 30, 2021 - NICE: The Ubyssey's Spoof Issue  

This year we spoofed Vice Magazine.

Profile for ubyssey

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