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New downtown Walla Walla “Plaid & Birks” clothing store owner in hospital after opening day stampede

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Whittie reports new high score of eight sightings in Touchet Challenge, on the web at

Men’s tennis team gets off after a huge comeback, marking 69th straight victory as climax of Innuendo Cup nears






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Ke$ha Consultant

hitman College is getting into the airline charter business, having recently purchased two Boeing 737s to start a college-run airline, missionAIRy. “We wanted to provide our sports teams with a quicker way to travel than buses,” said Dean of Sports Malcolm Putz. “Quite frankly, we’re above that. See, get it, we’re above that because we’re flying.” When not ferrying varsity athletes, the planes will be availa-

ble for class trips. “Imagine going to the U.S. Mexico border for a day trip, or flying to Paris for a few days of immersion in French. Well, now you can,” said President George Bridges. “Oh, who am I kidding, the athletes are going to hog it.” Students are already excited for the possibilities that having a school plane will bring. “I always thought we should


be fly like a G6,” said a first-year athlete. “Well, now we will be. Fuck this unpretentious shit.” To pay for the planes, Whitman will eliminate the unpopular German Studies department. “Ficken die Menschen, die diese Uni führen,” said Chair of the German Studies Department Emily Haam.




ews broke yesterday that senior archaeology major Silvia Path has a job lined up for after she graduates. Path’s prospective employment is a shocking reversal of Whitman’s drive to render every student unfit for such lower pursuits as “work” or “labor.” Path confessed that she was looking forward to getting her hands dirty. “I know it’s unusual,” she said, daintily perched on a paisley settee. “But I’m kind of excited to find out what sweating feels like.” Plath admitted confusion as to what she would be doing on her archaeological dig. “I mean, I’ve read about the influence of tools on human development for years,” she said. “But I’m not actually sure what ‘digging’ will involve, except that ‘shovels’ seem to be an important aspect. Maybe I should do another search on JSTOR.” Whitman Registrar Don Rural expressed bewilderment as to


Path’s employment occurred. “I can’t figure it out,” he said. “At Whitman, students are not only conditioned to disdain the unliberal arts, but we also deliberately purge the curricula of anything that employers might consider useful or a “skill.” Rural denied that the college feared other students would follow Path. “We’re confident that most Whitman students are right on course for the future that their time at Whitman will prepare them for. You know, coffee shops, goatee stroking, academic discourse,” he said, but noted that the college was considering further preventative measures. “Whitman is thinking of passing a resolution that advocates a return to parchment and quills,” Rural said. Whitman would be the first college in the nation to make a statement in support of obsolete technology. “I think this ‘UnDOCumented Resolution’ would really set Whitman apart. Students who want that genuine, nineteenth century collegiate experience, they’ll know that they can find it here.”

ResLife to introduce new student housing options by JOSH GOODMAN and SAM CHAPMAN

Tik Tok, Anaximander the Magnificent


hitman College Residence Life recently announced plans to reappropriate five residence halls and expand the Interest House Community to better accommodate the diverse hobbies of the student body. Here are just a few of the exciting new living options for next year! Jew-It Hall—Jew-It Hall will become a Jewish student housing option. The idea was originally proposed by Miriam Schwartz, parent of first-year Moishe Schwartz. Miriam Schwartz wanted to facilitate romantic relationships between Jews. “I hope that by living in the company of over 100 Jews, my Moishe will have sex with lots of nice Jewish girls and help to procreate the Jewish population,” she said. “Now if only I could get him to agree to live there. What’s not to like?” Professor of Sociology Bradley Horowitz said that a Jewish residence hall, while a bit segregationist, would help to counter fears of intermarriage. “Our research shows that people are more likely to enter into romantic relationships with people they live in close proximity to,” he said. “So, from the standpoint of reducing rates of intermarriage, this may have an effect. Plus, their moms and bubbies are going to kvell when they bring home Jewish girlfriends and boyfriends.” The Whitman Alcohol Policy will also change to allow students to drink Manischewitz, a brand of sweet Jewish wine, throughout the building. “Nobody could actually get through enough Manischewitz to get drunk,” said future Jew-West

RA Alyssa Levy with a chuckle. Out House—Due to a reduction in the number of Whitties who care about the environment, Residence Life plans to transform the Outhouse to the Out House, a home for LGBTQI students and allies. Students are already eager to move in. “I’m looking forward to living there and rooming with my boyfriend,” said first-year Moishe Schwartz. “It’s funny, because Whitman would require me to get permission from my parents to live with my partner if I were straight, but since I’m gay, they assume we’re just friends or something, so I don’t have to. And thank goodness.” Pollution House (PoHo)— A house built directly across from the Outhouse for the specific purpose of driving them insane. Features a permanent compost pile of plastic and batteries and 24-hour incandescent lighting powered by a generator that runs on dead owls. Murder House (MuHo)— The RA is a reclusive billionaire with a menagerie of exotic African creatures. Amenities include secret passageways, unguarded lead pipes, a perpetual rainstorm and a butler who is not at all suspicious. House meetings always begin with “Ladies and gentlemen. One of us . . . is a murderer!” Pretentious House (PreHo)—The house for students who are tired of all the unpretentiousness that goes on at Whitman. Feel free to use long, madeup words to describe your musical tastes; write a short story using only the letter f; or call everything “postmodern” whether or not it makes sense. Check out “PreHo Unplugged,” where any Whittie with a guitar can show up and strum a 94-minute composition about their struggle for peace with the universe!

Ducks rally against ‘Lakum Gooseum’ by MOLLY JOHANSON Lives in an aviary



or the ducks of Lakum Duckum, a bird in hand is not worth two in the bush—especially when the hand is their lake and the bush is Canada. This spring, Lakum Duckum has seen much greater numbers of migrating Canada Geese. Resident ducks have raised quite a ruckus in opposition to the new residents of Lakum Duckum, going so far as to hold a protest march all the way across Boyer Ave, while passing cars stopped to let them pass. “Quack,” said a resident Mallard, expressing his frustrations as a resident. “It’s Lakum DUCKum, not Lakum GOOSEum.”* Another Mallard stated curtly that she felt these geese have no right to the pleasantly heated pond if they are not citizens. “Quack quack,” she said. The geese, native Canadians who came to Walla Walla for the relative lack of snow, take the harsh commentary like water off a duck’s back, or in this case, a goose’s back. “Honk,” said a Canada Goose as she stood on the path near the lake. She said that what drove her to risk migrating to Walla Walla was the hope of a warmer future for her goslings. She feels that the ducks would probably agree with her values if they would

only shut their beaks and listen. A Canadian gander stated that he just wants to be able to feed his family, which is difficult during the cold winter months in Canada. “Hoonnnk,” he said, commenting on the abundant resources available around the lakum of plenty. The ducks have articulated their fear in regards to the coming spring, when their ducklings begin to hatch, that the impressionable youth may try and befriend, or even model their behavior after, the immigrant Canadian geese. “Quack!” said one Mallard, stating his negative judgment of the character of these immigrant geese. The squabble has ruffled the feathers of Landscape Supervisor and Lakum Duckum Expert Bob Biles. “I don’t understand what all the crowing is about,” said Biles. “It’s not like these birds lack for anything . . . and they don’t have occupations or contribute any to the upkeep of the pond. I don’t know why the ducks have got their feathers ruffled over ownership. If anything, I should be complaining about all of the bird shit that needs to be cleaned up.” *Translated from duck by former U of O student Musk Ovy, who previously majored in the complexities of duck linguistics.





A DAY IN THE LIFE OF A NEWS EDITOR Disclaimer: Any professor that takes offense with this, please don’t hurt Shelly!


Number of scarves Shelly Le notices she has in her scarf drawer when she opens it in the morning. Yes, she actually has a whole drawer dedicated to scarves.


Number of times Shelly falls asleep in her morning classes.


Percentage of Shelly’s afternoon spent obsessing over what she’ll do with her life after college.


Minutes Shelly spends watching Korean Dramas after dinner. She has a thing for Korean men.

10:28 p.m.

Time Shelly realizes that she hasn’t started her 78-page reading assignment for her politics class. Procrastination at its finest.


Number of people Shelly can see checking their Facebook on their laptops in the Quiet Room at 10:53 p.m. on a Sunday night, not counting herself.



Penis theater not just for dicks by THEO PRATT Speaker for Wieners


any Whitman students saw the production of “The Vagina Monologues” more than a month ago. It was a rather touching symphony that led to questioning, revelation and understanding by the audience. One was seized by the moment, physically struggling to contain his emotion. Another found the monologues too much to take and fell down to the floor in amazement, crawling about in epiphany. Needless to say, “The Vagina Monologues” left quite an impression. But there is another production, very similar to “The Vagina Monologues,” that was written just a few months after Eve Ensler’s world-renowned piece. “The idea for the piece came to me when one day I just thought, ‘When was the last time that I saw a penis that wasn’t my own?,” playwright Steve Mensler recalls in one of his many interviews. Once he started thinking about penises, a floodgate opened in his mind. “I realized there are so many penises out there in the world, but you don’t see much of them, or hear about that really,” said Mensler. “So I decided to correct that.” “The Penis Soliloquies” were initially composed of eight monologues and three dialogues, all about the male naughty bits. Mensler’s goal was to capture the viewpoints of all men, especially

those that had been downtrodden by women and society. He wanted to give his audience a barrage

of penises that they would soon not forget. And it is for this reason, that the play itself begins with a long list of penis slang, such as: dick, schlong, weenie, one-eyed trouser snake, joystick, tallywacker, tent-pole, ding-a-ling, Big E and the Smalls, bald-headed yogurt slinger, and this author’s personal favorite: Long Dong Silver. Whitman student Bobby Dangler has read “The Penis Soliloquies” more times than he can count, but he’s not that good at math, so that’s not saying much. “For too long ‘The Vagina Monologues’ have been the only performance about genitalia at Whitman, and they don’t have many kind things to say about penises,” says Dangler. This year, he and a few other Whitman students decided that this unfair prominence of Vagina theater would end, and


that they would perform the “Penis Soliloquies” on campus. “I think that the ‘Penis Soliloquies’ are just as relevant today as they were almost 20 years ago,” said Dangler. About 20 men and two women (don’t worry, the women are only directing a few of the Soliloquies, and you won’t see them on stage, so you can rest assured that you will see only men, just the way it should be) have been putting the Soliloquies together for about a month now. “For everyone here, the performance is very important to us,” said Dangler. “We’ve gone out of our way to make everyone feel comfortable, and we’ve truly bonded as a cast.” The group has even engaged in some traditional penis bonding activities developed for casts of the Soliloquies. For instance, before one rehearsal they all said what their penises would wear, if they were to wear something. Most people said their penises would wear something made out of latex, but they would rather not. For one piece of homework, the cast was asked to draw their penises as they saw them. Many of the cast got really into this assignment, drawing detailed penises complete with measurements. The smallest penis drawn was a foot long. This author, speaking as a man, can certainly say that the “Penis Soliloquies” will certainly provide “The Vagina Monologues” with some stiff competition.

Publication explosion subject of new campus ‘zine Students outraged by increase in campus publications, throw things at editors by PATRICIA VANDERBILT “I’m EIC, bitch”


n angry mob of Whitman students rallied on Reid sidelawn yesterday to protest the sharp increase in student-produced publications over the past four years. “Stop telling us to read stuff! Enough is enough!” the group chanted, while throwing buckets full of shredded copies of The Pioneer at unsuspecting passerby. In 2008, The Pioneer and blue moon were the only student publications on campus. Three years later, these publications are joined by quarterlife; The Succession/Secession; KWCW’s music rag Hey Man; the Waiilatpu; The Circuit; blue moon’s blue mooner; a feminist zine; QUEERING, an experimental campus publication for GLBTQI voices and issues; a magazine for dog owners who miss their pups; a magazine for future cat ladies; /, a quarterly collection of absurdist plays; DIS...C, a slam poetry collection from the Ultimate team; Six Feet Under: a tree-climber’s handbook; and KantRant from the philosophy department. “Basically every time I go into a building there’s a box by the door of something that I’m supposed to read,” said senior Clarette Clark. “It’s cutting into my Facebook time.” “It’s outrageous,” said sen-

ior religion major Cate Cosmonaut. “I haven’t finished my class reading since the day Bridges assigned the first four books of ‘The Odyssey’ at orientation. And now they want me to read this crap? The Circuit? I don’t even like physics.” “The newspaper is a waste of paper,” said junior environmental studies major Eartha Early. “I know it’s printed on recycled paper, but still. It could have been made into napkins or something.” The protestors then began to throw perfectly ripe vegetables and other organic matter at the student leaders of campus publications, who spoke

about the distinct contribution that each of their publications brings to Whitman. “I mean, don’t you want to read a grim, wistful, intriguing poem that contemplates the unspoken tensions between disparate entities?” said senior Violet Sun, editor of blue


moon, while she cowered under a rain of Prentiss tofu paella. “I think everyone needs a dim, nostalgic, thought-provoking verse that suggests the unvoiced stresses betwixt dissonant organisms,” said Penny Verve, quarterlife’s editor, as a group wearing “Lit ain’t fit” t-

shirts pelted her with peat moss. “Hey man, Hey Man is neat. There’s stuff about music, and stuff about stuff about music, and drawings about stuff that we wrote about stuff about music. Neat stuff,” said the editor of Hey Man, who is also the editor of Neat Stuff, a publication that points out the neat stuff in other publications. “It’s shiny!” said The Circuit’s editor-in-chief Patricia Vanderbilt when asked why the magazine was important to Whitman. Vanderbilt then picked up a copy of The Circuit and a copy of The Pioneer. “Come on, what do you want more?” she said. “Something shiny? Or this other crap?” Vanderbilt escaped while the protesters were temporarily entranced by the glossy pages of The Circuit. Though the protest eventually disbanded, the anger towards campus publications will likely continue until every student at Whitman is on the staff of a publication. This will occur approximately two weeks from today, if trends continue at the current rate.* *The margin of error on this statistic could be anywhere between 1 day and 4 years, give or take 1-4 years. The Pioneer staff is not very good at math.


Corrections to Whitman College and Walla Walla Memorial Building should be renamed “That Bell Tower Ever Shrouded in Mystery.”

the dollar store to a more campusconvenient locale (215 E. Rose St. perhaps).

Boyer Avenue should be made a walk-street. Seriously. Too many ducks are murdered each year.

The fountain in front of Hunter should be heated year-round! Hot tub partay!!!

Taqueria Yungapeti should be rechristened “The Taq: Home of the Walla Walla Burrito”


“Bougie Safeway” should be relocated from that sketch strip mall by

More sections of yoga and beginning art classes should be offered. It’s simple supply and demand, folks. Freshman sections should not be so excessively stocked with condoms. That’s just unrealistic.





Irish Car Bomb St. Patz Vanderbilt

Chief Enforcer Ted “Get the fuck in or fuck the fuck off” Hendershot


Voice of Sanity Hailun Zhou

Chief Creeper Carl Team Unicorn Karah Kemmerly Shelly Le Resident Groupie Caitlin Hardee

Layout Proles K-Bad, Sean McNewsy, Olivia Munn, Molly Sportsted, General Patton, Allison Work Harder Like a Lot Jean Marie Dreyer

Sports Icon DJ Magixxx

Like a Littles Aleida Fernandez Marisa Ikert

Sweet & Sour Sauce Alyssa Fairbanks Kelsey Kennedy


Man of Mystery Alex Brott Black Joke Cari Cortez Lord of Love Pimpmaster Parrish Big Cheese Binta Loos-Diallo

cade beck, Caitlin Bergman, Faith Bernstein, Allie Felt, Halley McCormick, Chaoyu Li, Nicholas Farrell


Alex Bailey, Ariel CarterRodriguez, Kelly Douglas, Ruth Hwang Emily Johnson, Julie Peterson, Erika Zinser

Rachel Alexander, Allison Bolgiano, Amy Hasson, Molly Johanson, Emily Lin-Jones, Julia Stone


Hands of Sanity Emily Coba

Clara Bartlett, Nathan Fisher, Alex Hagen, Mallory Martin, Ellie Newell



Spells Catface Meowmers

Samuel Adler, Susanna Bowers, Molly Emmett, Talia Rudee, Kinsey White


Sorcery Kirk Crosland

Charms Josh Goodman

Peter Clark, Sarah Debs, Kyle Howe, Pamela London, Sylvie Luiten, Matt Tesmond



Femmes Fatales Will Martin, Woodrow Jacobson

Sam Chapman, Blair Frank, Sandra Matsevilo, Nathan Ord, Kyle Seasly, Julia Stone


Elena Aragon, Tabor Martinsen, Theo Pratt, Dana Thompson, Bridget Tescher

Mad Man Hannah Bauer

For information about advertising in The Missionary, or to purchase a subscription, please contact yourmotherlovesth@


The Whitman College Missionary is a weekly student-run newspaper that eats up the time and student fees of the Associated Students of Whitman College. The purpose of The Missionary is to provide tidbits to tickle the fancies of Whitman students, alumni, faculty, staff and parents, as well as the Walla Walla community, who largely have no idea who we are. The Missionary is dedicated to pioneering open discussion about whatever is ruffling student feathers each week. We also write other stuff, mostly to fill space and make ourselves feel important. Obviously we have no integrity and primarily fabricate everthing that we print. The Missionary strives to be a sexual learning tool for students who are interested in journalism. In addition, all staff members are ridiculously good looking, single, and looking to mingle.


Send your whining to our beleagured editor at whyugottahate@ or to The Missionary, No One Sends Letters by Mail, Walla Walla, WA, 99362. Submissions may or may not be ridiculed endlessly and might land you on the editor-in-chief’s infamous Shit List— be warned.


All staff members swear an unbreakable vow to give their life to The Pioneer, within reasonable interpretation of the editorial board. These guidelines are subject to constant review and amendment; it’s a crazy world out there and we’re trying our best to keep up. No seriously, we’re seriously working our asses off for you ungrateful bastards. To access the complete code of ethics for The Missionary, visit









Cute, sunny golden retrievers make students happy. The Pioneer investigates. by RACHEL ALEXANDER “Still Doesn’t Wanna Be EIC”


arlier this year, junior Sarah Dawson found herself feeling lonely and wanting more physical intimacy. Though students in this position have traditionally sought relationships or hook-ups to fill the void in their lives, Dawson turned to a solution that’s becoming increasingly common on the Whitman campus: adopting a Golden Retriever puppy. “Fluffy and I share a bond that goes deeper than words,” said Dawson. “He can tell when I’m lonely and always wants to snuggle while I’m working on papers.” Dawson’s story anecdotally il-

lustrates the latest research from the Society for the Promotion of Collegiate Happiness (SPCH). According to SPCH president Jack Henderson, Golden Retriever puppies have been scientifically shown to boost dopamine levels in college students, giving many people a “rush” when they interact with the animals. Henderson estimated that nationwide, about 25 percent of college students have experimented with Golden Retriever puppies, either as a substitute for or in addition to a human relationship. According to the results of a Pioneer survey, 27.4 percent of Whitman students have had a Golden Retriever puppy at some point during their time on campus. Shockingly, the remaining 72.6 per-

cent said that they would like to have a puppy at some point in the future. “As more and more students turn to puppies to relieve their need for affection, the practice becomes socially normalized,” Henderson said. “The best research now indicates that the puppy trend will soon take over every college campus in the United States.” This trend is of concern to Resident Life staff, because students are not allowed to have pets in college residence halls. Residence Life Director Sally Perez encouraged students who might be tempted to acquire a puppy to seek out other sources of happiness in their lives. “Many students have found that other warm things, like sunshine and

daffodils, produce results comparable to owning a puppy,” she said. Senior Edgar Brown said that he used to have a Golden Retriever puppy, but had to get rid of it because of the problems it was causing. “Lulu would wander around my house and make faces at my housemates just so they would pet him and cuddle with him. It got to the point where no one could get any work done because Lulu was always there asking to be played with or taken for a walk,” said Brown. The Whitman Counseling Center is in the process of creating a support group for students afflicted with Puppy Withdrawal Syndrome (PWS). According to the Director of the Counseling Center Annika Clark,

Pio editor arrested for living in Reid by PATRICIA VANDERBILT “It’s all lies”


he editor-in-chief of The Pioneer was arrested yesterday for allegedly living at Reid Campus Center. Campus security was originally called by Associate Dean of Students: Student Programs and Activities Barbara Maxwell, who noticed said editor exhibiting some suspicious behavior. “Well, first I saw her carrying bags of groceries upstairs, and Leann [Adams] mentioned that there was a sleeping bag in her office. My night janitor told me that she’s always there when the janitor cleans the building, and I’ll occasionally encounter her brushing her teeth in the 2nd floor bathroom. But all that is pretty typical of Pio editors. When I saw that her address on People Search was listed as 280

Keith Raether came across Patricia Vanderbilt (above) while looking for leftover production night snacks shortly before the police came to evict her. Photo by Raether

Boyer Avenue, that’s when I started to get suspicious,” Maxwell said. The staff members of The Pioneer said that their EIC’s actions suddenly made sense. “She always referred to the Pio

office as ‘home,’ but we thought she was joking,” said senior Cara Lowry, managing editor of The Pioneer. “I wanted to believe that she had a life outside of the newspaper. I suppose I was just lying to myself.”

I’m uninspired and anti-opinionated CARL KATTFREND Fifth-year Student


hitties seem to be riled up and impassioned about everything. Race. War. Poverty. Injustice. Hypocrisy. Bigotry. Duck rape. If there’s something perceptibly wrong with the world, there’s sure to be a club of activists trying their darndest to fix it. My favorite phenomenon is when the same few people seem to be the ones who are passionate about everything—all at the same time. This is not to say that I hate passionate people. If I were to psychoanalyze myself I’d probably conclude that I’m jealous of them— “them” being the true zealots, as opposed to the ones who simply jump on the passion bandwagon—and their unshakeable verve. This is also not to say that I’m not passionate about anything. Because I am—about the old dead guys whose literature I study, about cats, about what I’m going to eat for dinner, about getting the job done the right way, about how I’m going to best avoid living at home after graduation. The list is long, but it has its exceptions.


Take the environment, for example. It’s arguably a Whitman student’s favorite thing to be (un)pretentiously concerned about. I mean, don’t get me wrong, pollution sucks, waste is bad. The world’s resources aren’t going to magically start renewing themselves anytime soon. Global warming is probably happening. Most days I’m pretty good about tempering my inherent planet-killing ways. But seriously, if I have the sudden urge to eat a banana or a mango or a kiwi, I’m go-


ing to eat one, regardless of its “carbon footprint.” And I’m probably going to buy it from Safeway—when it’s out of season. I’m probably going to use that unnecessary piece of paper towel after I’ve probably wasted water (and soap that probably isn’t environmentally friendly) by washing my hands when they probably aren’t that dirty. I’m going to take that 20-minute show-

How Twitter stole my soul by KARAH KEMMERLY Man Eater


‘Auto DJ’

Auto DJ is the chillest bro you’ll ever meet. When he’s on the airwaves, he lets the music speak, and it says, “Dude—this is hipster college radio at its finest.” Auto DJ spins the music you want, like indie, alt rock and anything you’ve never heard of, all with a few Peace Corps PSAs thrown in for good measure. He’s also not afraid to try new, experimental, edgy things on his show, like playing the same track 200 times, or just letting silence rule for a good five hours. The Auto DJ knows how to keep it real. Real fresh. Playing every day, at the times that nobody else wanted. On the dial at 90.5 FM Walla Walla and streaming live at Auto DJ doesn’t take requests because requests are for babies.


t almost pains me to say it, but I’m online. Not just Facebook online. Everyone has a Facebook. My grandfather has a Facebook. He even updates it. No, this is worse than Facebook. I recently got myself a tweet page. My introduction to the Twitter website was a somewhat embarrassing one. I was sitting next to one of those uppity communication majors at a journalism conference in October, and he wouldn’t get off of his phone. I made my snob face at him and chastised him for texting in class, but it turns out he wasn’t texting at all. He was using his tweet page to liveblog the lecture. For those of you who are unfa-


CLOSING THIS WEEK Thanks for trading your dollars for our better than average food. Cheers!

an empty, empty room

er after I’ve had a rough day (followed by a late night and most likely an early morning in the library). Sometimes, I’m going to opt to just throw out that scary jar of that mystery condiment that’s been living in the back of my fridge whose lid is crusted shut, rather than plugging my nose, prying it open, facing the horrible mutant within, cleaning it out thoroughly and recycling the appropriate parts. If it’s raining really hard and I have a nasty cold, I’m going to increase my greenhouse gas emissions and drive to my meeting in Reid rather than slogging through the downpour without a raincoat or umbrella like the average Whittie would. And when I get there, after checking my mail, I’m going to take the elevator up from the basement up to the top floor instead of reenacting my step aerobics class on all those stairs. In studying all those aforementioned old dead guys and their aforementioned literature I must have learned that man is mortal (or maybe that was “The Princess Bride” . . . I can’t remember . . . ). Either way, humans aren’t flawless. We sometimes fall victim to one of the classic blunders (e.g. : Never get involved in a land war in Asia; never go against a Sicilian when death is on the line; never forget to turn off the water when you’re brushing your teeth; etc.). It’s impossible to be genuinely passionate all the time. And don’t even get me started on politics or global events . . .

There’s no point in texting your order to 509-540-1261 no longer Sun 10-3:30 nor Mon-Sat 10-7:30

miliar with liveblogging like I am, I’ve found that reading a liveblog is basically like going to the movies with that one friend of yours who interrupts crucial dialogue every three minutes to comment on one character’s facial expression or to ask you if the actor playing the fatherin-law is that guy from the Honda commercial. Except with polls. After meeting the future journalists of America, I wasn’t too thrilled about jumping on the tweetfilled bandwagon. It seemed like an exhausting place: 140 characters, lots of number signs and not enough apostrophes. But curiosity eventually got the best of me. After discovering that Twittr is actually spelled Twitter, I had a tweet page. And it isn’t just exhausting. It’s dangerous. Within the first minute, the Twittr—dammit—Twitter website encouraged me to follow five people. Of course this was easy. Following people is something that I do occasionally on Saturday afternoons when I’ve finished re-organizing my desk drawers. The controllers of my tweet page are preying on my weakness. And now it’s getting serious. I have two followers and I am kind of hoping that Josh Groban will write a song about my tweets. Actually, I’m stressed out about that because I feel like I’m constantly in a competition with Kanye West. And I don’t have fur pillows.

Others mentioned that the Pio editor tends to act anxious and jittery when she is outside the News Room for an extended amount of time. “She does get a strange twitch when she isn’t in the office,” said Production Manager Ted Hendershot. “It’s pretty disturbing.” When campus security arrived to confront said editor, she attempted to evade them by hiding under her desk in the back office of the News Room. She then refused to vacate the premises, and campus security was forced to call the Walla Walla Police Department in to evict her. Witnesses report the editor-inchief raving maniacally about deadlines and word counts as she was escorted to the squad car. The editor then realized that she would have to cover her arrest in the upcoming issue of The Pioneer. “That’s going to be awkward,” she said.

Whitman ballers Fuck Shit Up by PAMELA LONDON Staff Muscle


ove over basketball; step aside swimming and cross-country. There is a new sport in town, and it is taking campus by storm! Ever heard of Fuck Shit Up? Don’t worry if you said no, you are not alone. In a poll of various Whitman community members, 97 percent of students and faculty said they had never heard of such a sport. Two percent of respondents said they had heard of it, but not at Whitman. And one percent selected the option “I have fucking heard of Fuck Shit Up and thank god it is fucking finally coming to Whitman!” Fuck Shit Up (FSU) goes back a long time: it was invented in 1883, ironically the same year as the founding of Whitman College. FSU is played at 17 institutions across the country, and is renowned for its iconic catchphrase “You going to Fuck Shit Up today?” How does one play FSU? Junior Amy Smith likes to describe the game as “rugby meets hockey meets lacrosse with elements of baseball and quidditch.” And the best part of it all? “Oh yeah, you are on roller-skates the whole time!” said Smith. “That’s what makes this sport really unique.” As for the player-to-player, physical combat, FSU is a free for all; anything is allowed in terms of tackling, tripping, everything. “I love the do-anything aspect of FSU,” said first-year Drew Starbird. “It really is a great release for any stress or pent-up emotion I may have. When I play FSU I know I can go all out and nobody is going to judge me. I can literally just go out and fuck shit up!” “We are proud to be Missionaries,” said Smith. “Now let’s go fuck shit up.”

SHIT ASWC DID 3/25 compiled by SHELLY LE FIERCE not cute


this group will provide students with a safe space to interact with puppies. “Students joining our support group will have the ability to cuddle with a litter of Golden Retriever puppies for up to an hour,” she said. “We anticipate that this will be able to effectively manage PWS symptoms and keep students happy so that they can focus on their schoolwork.” For some students, though, nothing will substitute for a real puppy. “Fluffy and I have a relationship that is far more important than my classes or my thesis. I plan to keep taking him for walks and posting videos of him sneezing on YouTube until I graduate,” said Dawson. “Well, unless I get a boyfriend. But come on, this is Whitman.”

NON, JE NE REGRETTE RIEN The year in mistakes, embarrassments, and misjudgments. The Pioneer staff regrets winning second- and third-place awards in web design and print design, respectively. You can’t drink tequila out of those paper awards. Sure, we may already have two trophies to use, but that’s just not enough for us. The Pioneer’s website regrets how often it was down in the past academic year. The website does not regret being awesome. These technical difficulties were caused by extremely high numbers of traffic. Like, 90,000 hits per month, bitches! Editor-in-Chief Patricia Vanderbilt regrets that after May 20 she can no longer be referred to as “chief.” She also regrets the questionable racial implications of the term “chief,” especially given the history of Whitman’s founding. Patricia also regrets that the printers of The Circuit addresed the invoice to “Whiteman College.” Managing Editor Cara Lowry regrets that after three years of nitpicking The Pioneer she has lost her ability to use the Oxford comma in her non-Pio-related writing. Big Cheese Pizza regrets that their #1 customer is The Pioneer. A&E Editor Caitlin Hardee and her scale also regret the apparently endless pizza budget. Senior Reporter Rachel Alexander regrets the consequences of the low alcohol tolerance and strong stomachs of the editorial staff. That was all her birthday alcohol, you guys. News Editor Karah Kemmerly regrets that she rarely speaks English at Pio parties. She regrets that the other editors don’t speak German. The news team regrets that the cute boys who work in the yearbook office never come and hang out on production night. Sports Editor Libby Arnosti and Photography Editor Ethan Parrish regret that they can use “I have a concussion” as a legitimate excuse not to do their work for Pio. For reals. News Editor Karah Kemmerly also regrets that Managing Editor Cara Lowry has yet to draw a mustache on her co-editor Shelly Le. She feels that this is a great loss because Shelly would look quite dashing with a mustache. Feature Editor Alyssa Fairbanks regrets that she has never been able to escape the clutches of The Pioneer and the fact that working so long for one paper has honed her extreme sassiness. Feature Editor Kelsey Kennedy regrets that she must be stereotyped as “The Sweet One” just to balance out Alyssa’s incessant sass. Production Manager Ted Hendershot regrets The Pioneer’s frequent design identity crises, resulting in students’ difficulty in finding The Pioneer on campus and recognizing it as such. However, he does not regret his fabulous taste in patterned socks. Web editor Sara Rasmussen regrets her utter inability to understand or appreciate Twitter and why all journalists are so obsessed with it. Sara also regrets that it is apparently her job as Web Editor to use Twitter. Meanwhile, news editor Shelly Le does not regret falling for the Twitter fad. She does regret that she only has eight followers. The Pioneer staff regrets that no one will find these as funny as we do.




4 Athletes run after balls with their mouths open 1


by DJ MAGIXXX Sports Icon


disturbing realization about athletes was made last week by The Pioneer’s editor-in-chief Patricia Vanderbilt. After sports editor Libby Arnosti seriously stubbed her big toe a few days earlier and was forced to stay at home to rest, Vanderbilt took over some of her editorial duties. Vanderbilt reports having her Eureka moment while sorting through photos of Whitman athletes. An English major with a sharp taste for justice, Vanderbilt realized that athletes are explicitly encouraged to partake in behavior considered unacceptable in normal society. “In our society, bla-

tant and public ball-chasing is viewed as absolutely inappropriate. But my research seems to point to an obvious exception for athletes,” she said. In all of the photos Vanderbilt observed, basketball, soccer and baseball players alike were exhibiting the same behavior. “The athletes were all running after balls with their mouths open,” said a shocked Vanderbildt. After reflecting on the subject, Head Athletic Director Dean Snider also voiced his concern about the implications of this discovery. “If people go to one sporting event and see athletes running after balls open-mouthed, they’re going to think it is socially acceptable behavior outside of an athletic environment,” said Snider. “That could be somewhat problematic.”

Whitman President George Bridges was confronted Saturday morning in his home by an irate Vanderbilt. Still wearing his Care Bears jammies, a befuddled Bridges agreed that there are undeniably unequal expectations for athletes and non-athletes. “Well, no, Whitman does not endorse running after balls with open mouths . . . But with sports, of course there is an exception. Everybody loves to see some good action on the court,” he said. Vanderbilt reports the interview as being “illuminating.” As of late, athletes have been treated as exceptions to many rules, said Sexual Misconduct Prevention Coordinator Barbara Maxwell, who shared a tub of Cherry Garcia with Vanderbilt as they spoke together.

Photo by Marie von Hafften

“Athletes are highly visible and influential figures in society, and here on campus. And here we are, publicly encour-

aging them to run after balls with their mouths open. What kind of message is that sending to the public?” said Maxwell.



“Why no new Ke$ha songs??”

Whitman will notify all applicants for the Class of 2016 as to whether they will be admitted by April 1. The Pio raided the Office of Admissions and found some of the rejection letters they were sending out.

Dear Applicant, You probably figured this out because this wasn’t in a big envelope, but in case you didn’t, we weren’t able to offer you admission. (And if you weren’t able to figure it out, then you really shouldn’t be going here.) Sincerely, Whitman Admissions

Dear Applicant, We regret to inform you that we are unable to offer you admission at

this time. We were impressed with your application, but this year’s applicant pool was very competitive. We are, however, offering you a spot on the Class of 2016 waitlist. Which is basically our way of rejecting you politely. Sincerely, Whitman Admissions

Dear Applicant, Sorry, we already have enough from Seattle. Sincerely, Whitman Admissions

Dear Applicant, Your GPA was top notch, your recommendations were stellar, your SATs were great. Just, next time, check to make sure you’re not submitting the essay about why you really want to go to Beloit. Sincerely, Whitman Admissions

Dear Applicant, Tip for the future: don’t answer your cell phone in an interview. BTW, you’re rejected.

Dear Applicant, We were impressed with your application and planned to admit you. That is, until we saw your post on the Whitman Admissions Twitter: @WhitAdmit thanx 4 a good time. enjoyed the kegger in 2-west and tke afterwards. also best brunch everrr.

Sincerely, Whitman Admissions

Sincerely, Whitman Admissions

Shit bothering Karah this week by KARAH KEMMERLY Boyfriend stealer

Dear readers, I thought I would introduce myself and this column by sharing with you the list of some of my greatest pet peeves. I know this isn’t totally in line with the title of the column, but let’s be honest: This isn’t about to become a weekly feature. It makes more sense to detail the most heinous offenses. And anyway, this shit is bothering me this week. It has been bothering me every week since I enrolled here. DISHES LEFT IN THE SINK And by “dishes left in the sink,” I mean “how everyone says they hate having dishes in the sink and then they still don’t clean their cereal bowls and put them on the drying rack.” See, I’ll mention some day at dinner that I hate when their dishes are in the sink, and my housemates will agree that yes, it is disgusting, and yes, we should totally do something about it. And then the

next day I get back from art history and there is a giant, towering pile of cups and spoons and cookie sheets waiting to be cleaned. I’m a little bit OCD. They know this. I know they know because they’re always making fun of how many toothbrushes I have. They also know that I imagine things crawling on me when there are dishes in the sink and that I will clean them immediately. And I think they are using my neuroticism to their advantage. WHEN PEOPLE TALK ABOUT HOW MUCH HOMEWORK THEY HAVE We’ve all been there. You’re sitting in a Prentiss booth trying to enjoy your sunflower field roast whatever cutlet when a friend of a friend slides in next to you and starts going on and on about some awful chemistry test they have next week. This person is talking about memorizing molecules and all of a sudden one of your friends is whining about how he has like three papers to write this weekend and some-

one else is talking about her next oral exam and they’re all grinning and giggling and enjoying their twisted little commiseration game. And you’re trying to ignore them. You’re trying to decide which of the brothers in the Vampire Diaries is more mysterious and brooding and thus more attractive, but you’re distracted by all of the unpretentious conversation around you. You know what, Whitman? I don’t buy it. I bet you spend at least of third of your library time watching cat videos on YouTube. And you know what else? I have so much time. HOW TLC HAS CHANGED ITS PROGRAMMING SO THAT I CAN ONLY WATCH “SAY YES TO THE DRESS” ON FRIDAY I understand that whoever does scheduling for TLC is trying to make this whole “Friday is Brideday” thing, but I don’t care. It doesn’t really rhyme, and when I’m on break, I want to be able to get myself a cup of coffee and watch “Say Yes to the Dress” every day at 11.

Dear Applicant, Please apply again when you learn to use words correctly. We know what you meant when you wrote “I strongly value adversity,” but still. Sincerely, Whitman Admissions

Dear Applicant, If you think writing about how you overcame having “shitty parents” who constantly grounded you makes for a good application essay, think again. Sincerely, Whitman Admissions

Dear Applicant, Why did you even bother ap-

plying here with a 3.6 GPA? I mean, sure if you were poor or an athlete or something, but an ordinary white middle class guy? Puh-lease. Sincerely, Whitman Admissions

Dear Applicant, We know you just want to stand out From valedictorian eagle scouts But an essay that’s limerick Is a desperate gimmick We simply have to keep you out. Sincerely, Whitman Admissions,

Dear Applicant, Congratulations! You just saved yourself $200,000 in debt. Sincerely, Whitman Admissions








Every week, The Pioneer searches out Whitties who bring an extra splash of unpretentious fashion consciousness and sartorial daring to campus. This week’s Style Spotlight: sophomore Ethan Parrish. Style Soundbites “I found these shoes in a really small thrift store in Portland. But not like a hipster thrift store, just a store with used stuff. The Velcro symbolizes, you know, a return to childhood innocence and a rejection of straightlaced mainstream society.”


“The pants didn’t come like this, I would never buy into the mass commercialization and cheapening of art . . . I just found some white pants in a paper bag on the sidewalk and then my friend Emma applied the paint while we were camping at Burning Man. We carried all the paint supplies out, of course.” “I got this bracelet in a street market while I was visiting Thailand. It was the only souvenir I brought back. People were like, ‘You can’t even tell it’s from Thailand,’ but I was like, ‘Carved elephants and Buddha statues are so overdone.’ Plus this way I can wear it as a daily reminder of my responsibilities as a global citizen.”

Whitman Pioneer April Fool's Issue  

The "jack issue" for the Whitman College Pioneer.

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