The High School Issue

Vol. 142, No. 3

TH E YALE

Oct. 30, 2013

RECORD

“Four for you, Glen Coco, you go Glen Coco!

“She definitely goes here!”

And four for Gretchen Weiners, too!” “I just lost three pounds!”

“That’s the prettiest f-ing skirt I’ve ever seen.”

NICEGIRLS

Designed by B.Marvin “Just the right amount of gay to function!”

WE GOT YOUR BACK

IN THEATRES NOWHERE

“Get in, winner. We’re going shopping!”

T he H igh S chool I ssue

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101 Whalley Avenue Dear President Salovey, Your bluegrass band reserved LC 209? Too bad. My little Johnny needs the room so he can recite the speech I wrote for the next round of his debate tournament. Fuck off, and I hope you have nice weather for your inauguration.

Sincerely, The mother of a high school student

AREA MAN ON A ROLL AFTER FREAK BAKING ACCIDENT Dear Joseph Heller, I love your classic novel, Catch-22.

In particular, I enjoy the scene where Snowden got what he deserved and it looked like an accident. I read it every night.

Your fan, Barack Obama

Dear world, I love to sing! I really love to sing! I really, really, really, really love to sing!

—A man who loves to sing

CLASS OF 2017 HAILS FROM 49 STATES, BUT NOT CALIFORNIA Dear employee, Merry Christmas! As a way of saying thank you for spending today at work instead of with your family, I hereby permit you to make yourself an egg-andcheese sandwich. And if you commit to working New Year’s Eve, you get fifteen minutes of sitting time per twelve-hour shift!

Full of holiday cheer, The owner of GHeav Dear Set Designers, If you build it, they will come.

—Porno directors

VULGAR HOCKEY-PLAYING 11-YEAR-OLD REPORTEDLY ON VERY THIN ICE Dear Pop-Tart vendors, You lying bastards. All I was looking for, all I wanted, was some soda pop that was nice and tart. You know, pop that would really excite my underutilized sour tastebuds? But then you and your false advertising and your weird rectangles of sugary cardboard come in and get my hopes up. And then you take it all away.

How can you even live with yourselves?

—Alex Jackson, DC ‘14

MAN TOLD TO “PUT A SOCK IN IT” FOUND DEAD THIS MORNING; APPEARS TO HAVE SUFFOCATED

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FOUR TIMES MORE AMERICANS WANT TO BOMB THE HELL OUT OF SYRIA THAN CAN FIND SYRIA ON A MAP Dear New Haven voter, In my time here, I’ve come to be an active member of the community, having located Newhallville on a map and having once tutored a prisoner. Since registering to vote last week, I’ve really come to know and love this city, from the Yale Bookstore to 55 Whitney. I also plan to improve public safety; just yesterday, I made eye contact with a New Haven police officer and walked hurriedly across the New Haven Green on my way to the train station.

I look forward to building community partnerships as soon as I learn who some community partners are. That’s why I’m running for mayor, and why I hope you’ll vote for me this November.

Let’s move forward together, A first-semester freshman

UNDERAGE? we’ll sell you

CHAMPAGNE ...or scotch, or rum, or vodka in bright n’ bouncy plastic bottles, you name it - if it’s dirt-cheap and kills brain cells, we’ve got it.

And since we’ve got it, you can get it. We pay off the cops. You’d be amazed at how little money it takes to bribe ‘em. Terrified, in fact.

skeevy’s wines & liquor you know where • New Haven

Dear Carrie Underwood, Now, as I understand it, you dug your keys into the side of his pretty little souped-up four-wheel-drive and carved your name into his leather seats? So you signed your name? Yes, well, maybe you should think before you basically confess to the crime. You’re going to jail.

There’s nothing I can do.

—J. Thomas Turner, Attorney at Law

This man thinks THE YALE RECORD is the “cat’s pyjamas.”

Come to a meeting and see for yourself !

Mondays, 9 pm, LC 209

WHOEVER IS REVVING their motorcyle at York & Elm at 3 a.m. every night had better stop it.

You’re an asshole.

MAN STRUCK BY HONDA FIT, DIES OF EMBARRASSMENT Dear guy walking a three-legged dog, Wow, this is so perfect! What are the chances?

—A guy walking around with a single dog-leg on a leash

INSTITUTIONAL, CONSTITUTIONAL, PROSTITUTIONAL

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T he H igh S chool I ssue

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NERVOUS POLE-VAULTER GOT OVER IT Dear Star Trek, Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m a big fan, but could you kindly explain to me why in Season 2, Episode 7, the ship took some pretty heavy cannon fire, damaging the hull metal and aft blasters, but then in Episode 8, which supposedly takes place a mere hour later, the ship looks completely fine?

—Barack Obama, because why the fuck not that’s why

Dear person who just told me “imitation is the most sincere form of flattery,” A-duuuh! Nyah, fuh, imitation is duh mowst sincee-ah fowm of fwattewy!

Aduuuuuuuuuh!

—Someone who’s sick of your wise idioms

FDA BROADENS DEFINITION OF “FOOD,” SCHOOLCAFETERIAS REJOICE

Dear Ryan, You’ve done nothing but complain all day! That’s you in a nutshell.

Apparently, it’s also you in a torture chamber.

Yours, Baron Bad-Evil VonDeath

THIEVES MAKE OFF WITH PLEDGE MONEY AND 200 MASTERPIECE THEATER DVDS IN PHONE-BANK HEIST

We deliver! Find us on Grubhub or call 203-782-6000

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The Yale Record

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T he H igh S chool I ssue Dear America, Please imagine all the animals in the world living together in harmony on a happy farm. There are happy cows and happy pigs, happy leopards and happy fish. Now, can you imagine eating that farm? I sure can’t. That’s why I’m a vegan. Retweet and take off your clothes in an Applebee’s to spread the message.

—A PETA newsletter

Dear America, People are animals, and animals are also animals, so when you eat an animal, isn’t it almost like eating yourself?

Almost certainly not, but why take the chance? That’s why I’m a vegan. Tweet a collage of images from your colonoscopy at President Obama and spray paint the Pledge of Allegiance on a cow to spread the message.

—A PETA newsletter

Dear America, Eating animals is like putting animals inside yourself, and that’s weird. I don’t want a cow inside me. Cows are too big.

That’s why I’m a vegan. Instagram a picture of yourself eating a teddy bear to spread the message.

—A PETA newsletter

STUDIES INDICATE “WORLD’S YOUNGEST PERSON” IS HARDEST College Street TITLE TO KEEP

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Shifting, Shifting, Braking Braking & & Wheels Wheels Repair, Apparel All Repairs Welcome Dear Fido, All Repairs Welcome and AccessoriesYou’re the best friend a boy could askGuaranteed Guaranteed Parts Parts & & Repairs Repairs

NON-CONFORMIST CHICKEN STARTS, Mon-Thurs.

PAUSES, AND DECIDES NOT TO CROSS 10:00-7:00 ROAD Fri-Sat Bike Locks

Apparel Apparel for! But I’m a girl, and I want a cat.

Cold Weather Gear ColdEgg Weather Gear Jamie who sits in donor: Enjoy the pound,Cycling Shorts Cycling Shorts SusieProtective Equipment

10:00-5:00

Protective Equipment front of me

Accessories Accessories

in English class,

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T he Y ale R ecord

W Sydney Shea’14, Editor-in-Chief Jack Newsham ’14, Chairman Aaron Gertler ’15, Publisher

Becky Marvin ’16, Design Editor Ben Garfinkel ’16, Managing Editor Nick Goel ’16, Managing Editor Scott Stern ’15, Managing & Supplementals Editor Zach Schloss ’15, Staff Director Allie Beizer ’15, Art Director Daniel Fraser ’14, Director of Special Projects Emily Sandford ’14, Online Editor Ian Gonzalez ’16, Business Manager Claudia Shin ’16, Publicity Manager & Copy Editor Ethan Campbell-Taylor ’16, Recruitment Director Mitchell Nobel, LAW ’16, Legal Counsel

ell, guys, a very important day is coming up – the big election. And no, I’m not talking about the mayor or the elderpeople or what have you, I’m taking about the big kahuna – Senior Class President.

Let me explain: I’ve always wanted to be President. Not of the United States – I mean, I can’t be the President and Olivia Pope at the same time, and we all know who dresses better. I mean a much more important job: Senior Class President.

Last year, I was already prepared for my impending presidential campaign - I had the megaphone, I had the super PAC, I had the Mary Miller endorsement, and I always had my babykissing lipstick tucked away in my back pocket.

But then I received the email soliciting candidates for Senior Class Council. It turns out that Yale doesn’t even have a Senior Class President! Their justification is that “it’s too much responsibility for one person.” Well, anyone who knows me could have told them that I am too much person for all of their responsibilities, but apparently no one had bothered to inform them. Instead, I had waited my entire life for nothing!

After my devastating political loss, I grew despondent. For days, I wandered aimlessly around New Haven. My shoes were dusty, then stolen. The sole remnant of modern technology I had was a lighter, which I later traded to get one of my shoes back, and my only sources of nutrients were gas station pastries - basically it was like living off-campus. However, I eventually found the one place that I could achieve all of my dreams. And by ‘found,’ I mean ‘collided violently with the sign of in a sugared haze’: that shining oasis of scholastics, Winnifield High School.

I immediately knew that here, I had a chance.

I marched right into the secretary’s office and

T he H igh S chool I ssue

enrolled as a proud Winnifield Whale, class of 2014.

Turns out it’s much easier to break into high school than to get out of it - you just fill in all the forms with things you make up! The nice lady at the desk even helped me choose a new Social Security number when I accidentally put down one that already belonged to a current student. And she said I looked young for my age!

In third period calculus, I made my first high school friend - head cheerleader Amanda Turner. Amanda told me that Timmy Watkins was running unopposed for senior class president because “it’s like, just not cool to implicitly legitimize this vacuous charade we call modern politics” just before she turned around and let me closely examine the back of her Hollister t-shirt in a clear show of our new best friend status.

My poll of the student body reinforced Amanda’s hypothesis: of the four hundred and sixty students, only four peoples’ scanned ballots said that they were actually planning to vote - one of which was a janitor, one that was Timmy Watkins, and two that had just drawn nipples in all the bubbles.

Something had to be done so that I could mobilize the people, and I knew just what it was: I could draw on the wealth of talent I had back at Yale! I immediately began to interview and vet a staff, though they mistakenly thought they were applying to be members of The Yale Record’s editorial board. Since I was the boss, nobody ever questioned me when I

Staff Writers, Artists, & Designers: Victoria Kim ’15, Travis Reginal ’16, Sylvia Zhang ’15, Claire Zhang ’15

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always chose pieces for us to work on with titles like, “Best Giveaways to Get the People on Your Side!” and ”Ways to Help Sydney Become Winnifield High Class President (Hypothetically)”. Though, judging by a) how long I kept up this charade and b) half of eboard suggesting “babies dressed as burritos” as the best giveaway, maybe I should have chosen some better Yale talent to serve as my campaign staff. Too bad I lost my super PAC’s checkbook.

Since all of the Record eboard’s campaign strategies were pretty much a bust, the only thing I have left is to appeal to all of you to help me in my mostly honorable quest to achieve my dreams. So now, students of Yale University, your task is simple: infiltrate Winnifield, pose as a member of the student body, and vote for me for your Student Body President - all while maintaining a GPA of 3.0 or above, a seat at the popular table, and your manicures. When it comes time to take out your number two pencil and bubble in that ballot, you know whose name you should be putting into that ballot box. And I mean, if you don’t know, I’ll give you a hint – me. My name.

It’s right below this editorial.

I’ll even give you your own baby dressed as a burrito.

—S. Shea The Yale Record September 2013

Contributing Writers, Artists, & Designers: Adam Echelman ’17, Max Goldberg ’17, Sahil Gupta ’17, Mikayla Harris ’17, Daniel Hoogstraten ’17, Madeline Kaplan ’17, Olivia Klevorn ’17, Tom McCoy ’17, Elizabeth Miles ’17, Isaac Morrier ’17, Ben Rudeen ’17, Chris Rudeen ’17, Sam Savitz ’17, Harrison Schneider ’17, Lining Wang ’17, Natalie Warren ’17

Special Thanks to: Michael Gerber, Gwyneth Tuckett, and spiking the punch.

Cover: This month’s cover was illustrated by Madeleine Witt ’15, who said yes.

Founded September 11, 1872 • Vol. CXLII, No. 3, Published in New Haven, CT by The Yale Record, Inc. Box 204732, New Haven, CT 06520 • yalerecord.com/magazine • Subscriptions: $50/year (print) • $10/year (electronic) All contents copyright 2013 The Yale Record, Inc. The Yale Record is a magazine produced by Yale students; Yale University is not responsible for its contents. Any resemblance to characters and events portrayed herein, without satirical intent, is purely coincidental. The Record grudgingly acknowledges your right to correspond: letters should be addressed to: Chairman, The Yale Record, PO Box 204732, New Haven, CT 06520, or chairman@yalerecord.com. The Record is on sale on all the principal news-stands in New Haven, New York, and Boston (Providence can go fuck itself). The Yale Record would like to high-five the UOFC for its financial support.

EXCERPTS FROM THE WORST VALEDICTORY SPEECH OF ALL TIME

SIGNS YOU’RE IN THE WRONG CLASSROOM

“Let me begin by quoting the best character from The Phantom Menace: Jar Jar Binks… ” “...and that’s why I think we should repeal the 15th amendment. But let’s get back to the matter at hand.”

“The transition to college will be challenging for all of us. Especially for Chad, since he’s kind of a moron.”

“I’m not actually wearing anything under these robes, if that’s relevant.”

“Let’s take a brief moment to pour one out for the homies who won’t be walking with us today.”

“Sorry, I’m soooo high right now.”

“Life is but a pallid reflection of the void presented to us by our inevitable death. Also, have you ever really, like, looked at your hand?”

“I love bad bitches; that’s always been my fucking problem.”

“I hate Jesus.”

“Alright, just checked, and I am definitely still not wearing anything under the robes. Totally naked.

Anyone else want to check?”

“Party at my place at 9! We shall draw deeply from the cup of sin. Friends, colleagues, Chad: let us fornicate with the devil tonight!”

The class is learning how to introduce themselves- in your first language.

In your urban private high school, the class is taking notes with crude leaden instruments upon DECIDEDLY unsustainable scraps of tree pulp.

In your urban public high school, the student teacher ratio is below 57:1.

There is a bound animal on the teacher’s desk, surrounded by people holding knives and chanting rhythmically.

The room is full of animals, equipped with drums and knives. They ask you to take a seat on the teacher’s desk.

The function has caused your calculator to explode.

There are toilets.

You’re interested.

—E. Miles

—I. Gonzalez —L. Wang

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DIARY OF A LUNCH LADY Apr. 13: Discovered online translation programs.

Today’s leftover lard balls can now be tomorrow’s Bola Lemak Babi. I just hope none of the snotmuffins speak Indonesian.

Apr. 14: Decided that my life needs more meaning - more of a definite purpose. I think I will steal the principal’s identity.

Apr. 17: Have begun a new hobby: Whenever an insecure girl buys dessert, I simper and say, “Looks like you’re buying some comfort food! Well, I can see why you’d need comforting with a figure like that. Don’t worry though, looks aren’t everything. Enjoy your dessert!”

I give myself 10 points if she tries to return the dessert, 5 points if she throws it out untouched, and 1 point if she chokes it down in abject misery.

Apr. 18: Actual conversation I just had with the principal: Me: “Sir, you just used the principal’s ID code to pay for your meal, but I don’t think you’re the principal!”

Him: “Whine whine whine, I am the principal, whine whine.”

Me: “Well, if you’re really the principal, what’s your social security number?”

Him: “123-45-6789.”

Me: “Oh, I guess that is right. Never mind!”

Stage one of Operation Takeover is a success.

Apr. 20: As I carried the garbage out to the dumpster today, a bag tore open and some milky white sludge leaked out. Served pasta with alfredo sauce for lunch.

Got the principal’s blood type, credit card number, and mother’s maiden name.

Apr. 22: My favorite day of the year: the running test in all afternoon gym classes. I served nothing but greasy mac ‘n cheese, heavy cream, and Italian sausage. Record number of pukers this year.

Apr. 26: To maximize unease, have added quotation marks and the word “product” to dish titles: Seasoned “Chicken” Tenders Product, Lima “Beans” Product, and “Fat”-Free “Milk” Product.

Convinced the principal that I need his car keys and school ID badge for security purposes.

Apr. 27: Discovered the magic of food allergies. Out of deference to our allergic students, I have announced that packed lunches are banned and that I will no longer serve any food containing peanuts, tree nuts, gluten, fat, protein, Vitamin B12, eggs, liquids, gelatin, red food coloring, salt, or flavor. Only fortified sawdust paste is left.

Apr. 28: The assistant principal is onto me. He suspects that I made up the allergen list, and he made me serve a normal meal today to test his conjecture that none of the snotmuffins would actually suffer allergic reactions. He was not sharp enough—he missed the poison ivy extract that I mixed into the soup. Allergic reactions galore, and back to fortified sawdust paste.

Apr. 29: Operation Takeover is finally complete.

Have now befuddled the principal enough that he willingly spends his day ladling sawdust onto trays. Fired troublesome assistant principal. Surprised the principal’s wife when I climbed into principal’s bed.

—T. McCoy

HIGH SCHOOL RULES IN THE 1800S The required courses include Coping with Diphtheria, AP Lamarckian Evolution, and AP US Present.

On Wednesdays we wear breeches.

No getting your muttonchops stuck in the pencil sharpener.

No love in the time of cholera.

No protesting change by destroying machinery.

No drinking alcohol outside of the nurse’s office.

“My bison ate my homework” is not a valid excuse.

“I was out scalping a savage” is a valid excuse.

Every day is pickled herring day.

Only white, male, locker-owning men may vote in student council elections.

No playing in the gym during Reconstruction.

No paying tribute to the Barbary pirates.

No unionizing .

Every third Friday is “Bring Your Parents to Work” Day. No, you may not have some more, so stop asking.

—M. Kaplan and C. Rudeen

Dear Nate, Thanks for nothing, you worthless piece of shit.

—Ms. Steinwick

I'm really, really sad we're parting ways. It's tearing me apart. Nooo, don't go. No. No...

Bye, Nate! Dont be sad, we will hang out soon! Really soon! And when we do, you should be sure to bring your lunch money, for old times sake!

—Xavier

Written by S. Stern Designed by B. Marvin

Nate, Last night was great. It was, well, mindblowing. Jesus, I’ve never screamed so hard in my life.

Horror Movie Club is never gonna be the same without you, man.

-Allen

RUTHERFORD B. HAYES HIGH SCHOOL CLASS OF 2013

Like OMG I’m gonna miss U sooo much.

Remember that time we teepeed Principal Cohen’s car? ROFL! And like remember when we poisoned the water fountains and gave those nerds AIDS. HAHA OMG high school, dude. TTYL! Sandy

Nate, Wow, it's been so many years together. I can't believe this is finally goodbye. Well, I guess it was inevitable. I'm sure you'll do great in college and maybe our paths will cross again in the future. You never know!

-Mom

Dear Nate, I never know what to say in these messages haha, so here goes nothing. It’s been so amazing getting to know you these past four years. Going to soccer practice together, following you around, watching you sleep, filming your showers. Remember when you hooked up with Lauren at that party? I do. Anyway, stay in touch! I know I will.

Evan

Nate’s Yearbook

MICROWAVE Gets cleaned Tu & Th before 1st lunch period.

Inside is coated with grease by end of 2nd lunch period.

VENDING MACHINE 2nd Coke button will eat your dollar

JOCK

Most common spill location.

Another reason to use the blind checkout lady.

Whether you’re a geek hoping to not get robbed of his lunch money, the girl so afraid of rejection that she can’t even break into the clique of outcasts who eat lunch in the bathroom, or the kid who just likes stealing food, you need this map. It’s the map of your high school cafeteria, and it’s how the rest of us managed to avoid the blank stares and swirlies that came with violating social norms.

BLOC

ORCHESTRA First chairs only!

HERE THERE BE MONSTERS MOVIE MEAN GIRLS

LINE CUTTERS

REST OF LINE

Will make out with your crush.

SECOND STRING STRING PLAYERS’ SECOND TABLE STRING Also the PLAYERS’ cymbalists TABLE

THESPIANS actors who can’t sing

This lunch lady is legally blind and won’t notice if you hide a paper plate under your tray.

REAL-LIFE MEAN GIRLS Will make out with your boyfriend.

LUNCH BRINGERS

WRITTEN BY J. NEWSHAM DESIGNED BY S. SHEA

THE ANNOTATED MAP OF YOUR HIGH SCHOOL CAFETERIA

Alice, who has excellent desserts but is on a diet as of Feb. 11 and gives them away.

singers who can’t act

ARTISTS The brooding type, not the bubbly type.

ETHNORACIAL MINORITY

ETHNORACIAL MINORITY

OTHER SELF-STYLED OUTCASTS vegetarian, sXe, etc.

Andy, who can’t do either but gets a pass because his dad has a Tony.

HIGH RISK OF COFFEE FUME ASPHYXIATION

Travis, the french fry thief.

Nick, the kid who bites the fingers of fry thieves.

NEW KID TABLE

Two games of Magic the Gathering are going on at this table.

P! U We’ve all experienced Mis Edition E H some form of our teachers’ T Cris e f H i l d C acher’s Mi soul-searching tragedies far too T A palpably. But are you a true expert M h School Te

Hig

INCIDENT

on your teacher’s problems, or are you simply another apathetic student?

Now’s the time to test your knowledge!

Match each breakdown with its inevitable conclusion.

RESULT

1. Chem lab instructor drops marker mid-alkane, wonders aloud why he started doing acid instead of finishing his PhD.

A.

2. On her 42nd birthday, bio teacher breaks down sobbing, interrupting her class on cell division with screams of lost youth and faded life.

C.

D.

4. Russian lit teacher discovers students tending to their Neopets during a discussion on Tolstoy, storms off indignantly.

5. A mysterious woman bursts into Spanish class and confronts the handsome yet world-weary teacher in a fiery argument. Their conversation rapidly descends into incomprehensible sweet nothings, as the class remains paralyzed before the scene of their violent and passionate lovemaking.

6. After being asked to define the term “function” for the seventh time, calculus professor bursts into tears, replying, “It’s what I just can’t seem to do in my life.”

7. After burning his chocolate soufflé, student asks aloud of his Home Economics teacher “If napkin folding were useful, why haven’t you found a husband yet?” She dismisses the class immediately.

E. F.

G.

H.

1-C 2-F 3-B 4-E 5-H 6-G 7-A 8-D

3. Mid-Nietzsche, philosophy teacher veers off into the socio-existential toxicity of high school hookups, leading seamlessly into the story of his recent abandonment at the hands of his exgirlfriend. Spends the rest of lecture curled in the fetal position making animal noises.

B.

“Serviette Suzy” becomes the headliner at the local strip club.

Starves to death while writing multiple-volume rant on high school students’ lack of empathy.

Following ten years of institutionalization for hurling several research-paper-and-Erlenmeyer-flask Molotov cocktails at students during a bad trip, makes a fresh start as a graduate school psychological counselor.

As he is dragged into the courthouse, the handcuffed teacher screams to TV audiences nationwide, “Calculate the time it takes a cheating spouse and her GED man-whore to hit the ground from a 100m cliff!”

Throws self in front of train.

After being fired, opens “Pie-tosis,” an edgy nightclub/artisanal bakery on the Upper East Side Quits, to write a best-selling self-help book, Maximizing your Minima: Integrating Happiness into Your Day and Deriving the Joy in Each Moment.

Stars in Univisión’s newest reality-telenovela, Colegio del Corazón: Lecciónes de Amor, while continuing to teach at your high school.

HOW DID YOU DO? 1-3: Gosh, have you no soul?

4-6: Empathy score: Meh. 7-9: A career in therapy is in your future.

8. Physics teacher comes home early after a class on Newtonian mechanics and walks in on his wife and an actual mechanic.

Written by M. Goldberg Designed by B. Marvin

SMALLPOX BROWNIE PRO: They’ll have smallpox CON: You also probably have smallpox

ELEPHANT TUSK PRO: Quite pointy CON: What are you going to do with the rest of an elephant?

POWDERED TANG PRO: Effective ninja-type smoke screen CON: Potent neurotoxin

BANANA PRO: With practice makes good boomerang CON: Not as aerodynamic as a hot dog

ff Sta in y n b arv ir tte B. M W by n ed g i s De

CHICKEN WINGS PRO: Ironic CON: Not as attention-grabbing as breasts

LAMB SHANK PRO: Includes natural throwing-handle CON: Not the most effective type of shank

NOT PICTURED: PEOPLE But they only qualify during a Donner party food fight anyway

CAKE WITH STRIPPER INSIDE PRO: Easy way to put agent behind enemy lines CON: Now you have no present for Timmy’s sweet sixteen tonight

PROS AND CONS OF CREATIVE FOOD FIGHT ITEMS

Peasants Overthrow Prom Royalty

BY SCOTT STERN

Butte, Montana – In a stunning coup d’état, the peasants of James Madison High School overthrew this year’s prom monarchy yesterday, ending the hour-and-a-half reign of King Jake and Queen Amanda. Opposition to the ruling family had been fomenting for scores of minutes, and united upper- and under-classmen alike against the chosen pair.

The shocking uprising began when dozens of unwashed masses had to bear the indignity of watching the aristocrats descend from on high to take part in the ceremonial ‘first dance’.

As the gymnasium swelled with the sounds of Ke$ha’s “Tik Tok,” grumbling rose from the laity.

“We were like, who do they think they like are, anyway?” recalled sophomore Tessa Brown, age 15. “As if we don’t know those crowns are just plastic.”

As she spoke, Brown, wearing a soiled gingham dress and no shoes, wiped the dirt from her forehead and spat on the floor.

After a hard day of picking turnips and learning trigonometry, enough was enough. When the King paused to tie a shoelace that had come loose during the royal dance, the crowd surged forward. “Can I help you with that, m’lord?” asked junior Alex Simpson, 16 and two months this Tuesday; when his lordship King Jake turned around Simpson landed a wicked right hook

A quick-thinking janitor used his new iPhone to capture this snapshot of the melee inside of the gymnasium. /PHOTO COURTESY OF VICKY KIM

on the royal’s left cheek.

Simpson, 17, wearing a ragged kilt and a halfshirt, looked “very handsome,” according to his mother, Mrs. Frances Simpson, 47.

The melee got irreparably out of control after senior Annie Kilpatrick, “fed up with dis shiyat,” took a burning torch out of her wristlet and cried, “Death to tyrants!” King Jake fled for the safety of the bleachers, but was quickly seized by the crowd and vanished beneath a sea of dirtstrewn hands. The Queen, too terrified to move, began, “Guys, what are you—” before senior Ivan Groushe stabbed her with a rusty pitchfork.

Sensing the imminent danger, the Student Privy Council members responsible for conducting the coronation ducked under the punch table. There, they cowered, taking swigs from their hip flasks until they could work up the courage to flee through the fire escape.

The heads of the slain monarchs were soon mounted on pikes, balanced carefully against the basketball hoop as the crowd cheered.

“No more despotism, no more cruelty, no more terror!” screamed Simpson, brandishing his blade.

“The chosen ones can pick their own fucking turnips now.”

“The community garden,” civics teacher Nadia Issa concluded, “Was not a success.”

Contact SCOTT STERN at recordsubscribe@gmail.com.

WHITE STUDENT PHOTOGRAPHED WITH CHILDREN OF DIFFERENT ETHNICITY

BY BEN GARFINKEL Numerous sources close to Douglas Hardt confirmed yesterday that a photograph posted to the Deerfield senior’s Facebook “wall” depicts him standing in front of a large group of children of a different ethnicity. In the iPhone image, a smiling Hardt, 17, clad in a Nike t-shirt and Ray-Bans pushed up above his forehead, can reportedly be seen standing with the youths in a field of some sort. Many of these differently pigmented children also appear to be smiling.

Although sources cannot confirm which specific country he can be seen standing in, one Facebook “friend” of Hardt speculated that it is presumably “one of those super poor ones, like where they don’t have good water.”

“Just look at their clothes,” elaborated this friend, in reference to the ethnically differing children. “Why would they be wearing those outfits if they weren’t super poor? I bet those kids’ water is like a mile away.”

While a full 72% of friends surveyed expressed complete indifference to Hardt’s post, and indeed failed to even recall the racially diverse image when questioned several hours later, the remainder expressed a mixture of mild respect and jealousy.

Said one friend: “Sometimes, looking at the Facebook pictures of people like Doug, I start to feel bad about myself. It makes me think, what meaningful thing I am doing with my summer break? Why aren’t I standing in front of a group of non-whites? I bet that Doug is really going to grow from his experience being nearby differently-skinned kids.”

She paused, then added, “I find Doug slightly more interesting and attractive now.”

For his part, Hardt has described the experience captured in the “mobile upload” as lifechanging.

“I really grew as a person,” he

explained in a statement about his time near these other-hued youths. “Not just through standing next to those non-white children, but also through standing in that field. At home I have always had lots of stuff, but I never thought about how some other people in the world with different-looking skin sometimes don’t have lots of stuff. I mean, just look at that photo: Those kids aren’t wearing shoes! Not even New Balances! And look at that field! Where are all the buildings? I don’t know, probably they didn’t have money to make them, or the builders all got diseases.”

“I felt lots of things,” his statement about the children with substantially different spectral signatures continued. “I felt pretty proud, and inspired. I would have figured that people without lots of stuff would have to be really sad, but you can see in my photo some of the kids are smiling. From now on, whenever I start to feel sad, I’m going to think to myself: If those darkerskinned children with bad water can feel happy, then so can I! But also I felt sad, because I kept thinking, will they still be happy when they go back to not having a white person standing next to them? And what about all the non-white children who will never even get a chance to have a person like me stand close enough to take a photo?”

While Hardt maintains his experience being photographed as part of a heterochromatic group was, for the most part, “pretty amazing,” he still struggles to accept these “super sad parts.”

Said a visibly bummed Hardt, with a shake of his head, “Life can be so unfair.”

“Oh, and by the way,” he then added, “they were black.”

Contact BEN GARFINKEL at recordsubscribe@gmail.com.

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THE PERKS OF BEING A LATE BLOOMER TJ Maxx has a lot of great deals on designer brand children’s clothes.

Girls like being your friend.

In today’s world, who really needs muscles?

Less competition for alto in the school choir.

Chest hair is gross.

Fifth graders think you are the shit when they see you hanging out with high schoolers.

In today’s world, who really needs a big penis?

You can complete the maze on the kids’ menu in record time.

Every day is a chance to reinvent yourself since no one remembers who you are.

Cartoon character shirts you have been wearing since the fourth grade are now ironically cool.

Physical difficulties give you a perspective on life that allows you to become a comedy writer, because that’s a respectable profession.

—H. Schneider THE ’90S MOVIE GUIDE TO LANDING THE HOTTEST GIRL IN SCHOOL 1) Be the new kid. Try being born to parents whose line of work requires them to move frequently so you can transfer to a new high school where you don’t know anyone. It will be much easier to win over girl with a great first impression than by letting her actually get to know you.

2) Identify the hottest girl in school. Look for a blonde who’s talking to a small group of girls while smiling and flipping her hair. This will happen in slowmotion and may be accompanied by an abrupt change in music. Do not be alarmed. This is normal, and will only last until the curly-haired Hispanic kid who’s telling you about your new school’s social cliques gets your attention or you walk in to a door.

3) Let Her Boyfriend See You Hitting on Her. She will be obviously charmed by your forward sense of humor and lack of respect for personal space. Make cocky and/or presumptive jokes until her giggling catches the attention of her asshole boyfriend. He will be either rich or athletic, depending on who the scriptwriter got beat up by in high school. He is the school’s alpha male

and she is obligated to date him until he has been publicly emasculated.

4) Accept his challenge. It should only take about 30 seconds of flirting with her for her boyfriend to challenge you to a high-stakes fight/drag race/surf-off.

This is the usual way of settling such disputes and will be an accurate indicator of your comparative worthiness as potential mates.

5) Find a sage: A washed up old veteran/sports legend/mechanic who withdrew from public life when his wife died 20 years ago in an accident that he’ll tell you about one night while he’s getting hammered solo.

Try the sketchy bearded shop teacher or that janitor that everyone whispers about. Do not question his methods.

6) Triumph at the final showdown. It may appear you are about to lose, but don’t worry, you wouldn’t be the main character if you weren’t going to emerge victorious. At the last possible moment realize the importance of that one mantra your sage kept repeating.

7) Claim your prize. Wait for the crowd of anonymous cheering high schoolers to part and let your new girlfriend through. Hold her up and kiss her as you would the trophy from any other competition. Roll credits.

Optional: Fun beach date montage.

—I. Morrier

WORST TERM PAPER TOPICS Whose Line is it Anyway? —A First-Person Account of Cocaine Use Drinking and Driving: The Success Stories High School English Teachers and the Upsides of Suicide The History of Twerking: From Mozambique to Miley Bullshit: A Premodern Post-Structuralist Approach to Reifying Liminal Norms and Stuff The Squeaky Wheel Gets the Lube: Pornography and the Special Olympics The Future of Twerking: From Miley to Mars and Beyond The Hungry Games: Obesity in Recreation and Literature From She’s the Man to She’s…oh Man: The Rise and Fall of Amanda Bynes How To Buy Term Papers Online —M. Harris

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RIDICULOUS SCHOLARSHIPS , (or the Scholarship Formerly Known as Prince) The 114th Annual William Lord Presley Charleston IV Memorial Award for Dat Derriere, Doe The National Parrot Scholarship for the Study of Pirate-Affiliated Bird Life Federal Smell Grant Afro-Mongolian (non-Hispanic) LGBT Scholars Program for Pentalingual Student-Athletes Active in the Church of Scientology The Bernie L. Madoff Memorial Award for Ethics in Business Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring Rockefeller Award for the Exorbitantly Wealthy Kardashian Scholarship for the Inexplicably Wealthy The Nike Scholarship for Just Doing It Farmer Ned Cornwall’s Big ol’ Sack o’ Money for Steer Herdin’ and Coop Cleanin’ Mighty Good The A. H. Hitler Memorial Award for Struggling Artists The William Henry Harrison Memorial Award for Reading Speeches in the Rain and Catching a Cold and Dying and Disappointing the American People Football Scholarship —D. Hoogstraten & B. Rudeen

OUT OF THE BOX SENIOR PRANK IDEAS 1. Have sex with the wives and/or husbands of every single teacher at your school.

2. Get to school early one morning and rearrange the desk and chairs in every classroom into a giant penis.

3. Break into the US Strategic Biodefense Laboratory and retrieve the rotting corpses of three pigs infected with an extremely virulent and contagious strain of Anthrax 3114AC. Label these corpses “1” “2” and “4” and then drag them into the school during lunchtime. Toxic spores will filter into the school’s ventilation system and all those affected should experience central nervous failure in a matter of minutes. The kicker is that the Hazmat team trying to isolate the source of the contagion before it spreads to the local community will have a hard time finding corpse “3”—because it doesn’t exist! Man, those Hazmat guys are gonna get pranked so good.

4. Hack into the Kennedy Space Center’s central network and alter the landing coordinates of their next lunar rocket such that it touches down on the roof of your school right when classes are getting out. Ideally, the rocket’s twin boosters and large cylindrical fuselage will unmistakably resemble a giant penis.

5. Send a letter to every freshman parent explaining in precise medical detail how their child as well as the gym teacher, guidance counselor, and 2nd floor janitor all seem to have contracted an advanced case of bovine syphilis.

6. During first period, have the seniors strip naked and dress up like crazed Paleolithic tribesman with face paint and spears. Then, they run into the freshman homerooms, kill everyone there in an orgy of animalistic violence, and impale their severed heads on sticks outside the school – in the shape of a giant penis.

7. Shit in everyone’s laundry.

“You know, based on our outfits, this should be the other way around!”

—V. Kim

—N. Goel

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COMPLETING YOUR SUCCESSFUL COLLEGE APPLICATION Promise Get rid of Jim, the creepy janitor More nutritious lunches Improve diversity in the student body Eliminate bad odors from the school Create a new school mascot that represents healthy values Have the student body choose their own prom theme Have graduation speaker give an inspiring speech More supplies for accounting classes and chemistry labs Hold a bake sale Hold a memorial service for Chuck

Outcome Fail

Reason for Outcome Jim had tenure­—and a wife and two small children to support.

Success “Broccoli” now mostly green.

Fail Shouldn’t have mentioned your Asian fetish.

Fail, because of your mom Oooooh, sick burn.

Fail Connie the Condom did not go over well with parents.

Denise the Dental Dam had a little more traction.

Success The “Sex” themed prom had record attendance.

Fail Fail Fail Success

Who knew the guy was a Holocaust denier?

Didn’t see that coming.

Severe lack of checks and balances.

I guess those brownies did have gluten in them. My bad, Chuck.

R.I.P. Chuck.

—S. Savitz

SIGNS YOUR HISTORY TEACHER IS OLDER THAN HISTORY Your history teacher speaks fondly of his parents and that fateful day they found him sleeping in a basket in the Nile River.

Your history teacher likes giving zeroes on your essays because it reminds him of when he invented them.

The classroom is always too hot because your history teacher fears the return of the Ice Age. Your history teacher stabbed Caesar.

Your history teacher’s handwriting resembles ancient Sumerian.

Your history teacher hooked up with Mona Lisa. That’s why she smiles.

Your history teacher frequently talks about the family slave(s). People squirm.

Your history teacher thinks Bach is avant-garde.

Your history teacher always brings the “family cave paintings” to show and tell.

Your history teacher pregamed for the “Last Supper.”

Your history teacher does not follow the history book.

Your teacher is history.

—A. Echelman

THE MOST USELESS HIGH SCHOOL ACHIEVEMENTS Finding a water fountain that’s not just a warm drizzle Successfully invoking the death of a relative/pet/celebrity/ celebrity pet in order to get an extension National Honors Society Having a teacher acknowledge you without being paid to Starting a club. Any club.

Refusing to press the snooze button Winning the student council election for “Deputy Public Relations Director” Finding a piece of ripe fruit in the cafeteria Finding a piece of fruit in the cafeteria Finding the cafeteria Passing pretty much any of your classes, which, when you really think about it, have little to no relevance to real life and are basically just a remnant of a distant past when schools had to churn out good drones to power the Industrial Revolution —O. Klevorn

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MY BOOK REPORT ON AN ODYSSEY, BY HOMER THE GREEK A long time ago in a city-state far, far away, there was an ancient Greek hero named Odysseus who decided to take an odyssey in Mr. Homer’s book An Odyssey.

Odysseus sailed on perilous waters, through oceans, rivers, and isthmuses—some say he was trying to circumnavigate the globe—but his voyage eventually came to a tragic end at Cornell University in his homeland of Ithaca, New York. If only he’d had the pathos, ethos, logos, telos, and shmeelos to continue his journey, Odysseus might have become a landmark milestone on the shoulders of giants. Thusly, An Odyssey is a tale of a band of sailors that successfully failed due to conflicting conflicts in a querulous quest to prove the world was round. This failure in the third act clarifies to any reader of this romantic bildungsroman that Mr. Homer’s An Odyssey is an obvious polemic on the democratic process.

My thesis’ validity is illustrated in the episode where the Sirens call to Odysseus. After a holistic reading of the novel, it is apparent that Odysseus desperately wants to sing along. However, his musical crew, also known as the “Greek chorus,” vetoes his demands in the following statement: “No” (999). This direct declaration demonstrates the darkness of democratic demagoguery devolving into desolation and despair. In technical terms, literary critics would say that Odysseus was “cock-blocked.” It is plain to see, then, that democratic governments are bound to fail.

Perhaps Homer was thinking ahead to Modern Greece, which fell into chaos after citizens—or, as he calls them, “looters”—demanded that the government purchase a Coliseum, rather than using their tax money to fund an army large enough to defend against the Trojans, the Hydra, and the Wicked Witch of the West.

(For additional materials, refer to Act II when Odysseus attempts to harpoon the white whale—obviously a thinlyveiled metaphor for a citizen-driven government—from his submarine several thousand leagues under the sea.)

To conclude, the author made a noble effort to prophecy the inefficacy of democracy. In my opinion, An Odyssey wasn’t half-bad. Mr. Homer should write another book.

—S. Gupta

Thanks, Michelle Obama!

—A. Beizer

SIGNS YOU’RE ACTUALLY LIVING IN A HIGH SCHOOL TELEVISION DRAMA You are never in class or doing homework.

A weird disembodied voice narrates your life.

Your classmates are all clearly hot thirty-year-olds.

The soundtrack to your life is possibly even more melodramatic than the average high-schooler’s.

Every ten minutes you and everyone you have ever known are plunged into a horrifying void of nothingness while Colonel Sanders talks about the Double Down.

Everyone seems to have forgotten about the kid who died two seasons ago.

Lance Bass inexplicably showed up once.

If nothing has happened for a while, a new transfer student with a sordid past always arrives to shake things up.

Everyone knows how to surf.

Everyone actually eats the school lunches.

Your friend moves to Costa Rica to “figure things out” but comes back for the Christmas Special.

The most important conversations happen in the bathroom.

The mayor turns into a snake at your graduation.

You go to high school on a cruise ship.

You go to high school in California.

—B. Rudeen and C. Rudeen

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BAD WAYS TO ASK THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE TO PROM

SIGNS YOU’RE CURRENTLY BEING BULLIED

Shaving it onto your head.

Writing it in toilet paper on their house.

Snapchat your genitals “#PROM”?

Passive aggressively: “You can go to prom with me if you want, or not, it’s whatever.”

Spelled out in letters that say “romP?” Right after prom.

Writing it in mice you ritually sacrificed under the full moon.

Confusing double negatives: “Don’t you not want to never go to prom without me?”

By asking someone else instead.

None of your peers bother to pressure you.

Your teacher has started handing the class bully’s homework back to you.

Your name is Festicle.

Your imaginary friends won’t hang out with you.

LensCrafters insurance won’t cover your glasses anymore You have a well-known preference for the toilet water on the 3rd floor.

You really do have four eyes.

Your guidance counselor recommends you skip school.

You were voted “least.”

Your favorite president is Millard Fillmore.

You are Millard Fillmore.

You are currently in high school.

—C. Shin

—Staff THE DEFINITIVE FLOWCHART: ACT OR SAT?

­—N. Warren

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Dear Dean Gentry, Thank you for your years of service.

But as far as student affairs go, I’m in charge now.

With nose upturned, Dean Aristocracy

MAN MISHEARD “TUMOR,” THOUGHT HE HAD “TWO MORE” MONTHS TO LIVE; WAS ALMOST RIGHT

Dear Queen Latifah, Mom? Is that you? I thought that I had lost you for good!

—Princess Latifah

“PROCRASTURBATION” FINALLY ADDED TO DICTIONARY

Dear offended passer-by, When I said that the new avian exhibit at the zoo was “the tits,” I was just conveying my excitement at the rare New Zealand birds they had on display.

Man, flightless kiwis are the tits!

Sincerely, A crass young bird enthusiast

Dear Yale Facilities, P is for the pee in Pierson Coll-ege!

By which I mean, my toilet has backed up all over my floor and there’s pee all over. Please bring a mop and Clorox to D-21 ASAP. Sincerely, David Lee, PC ‘16

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Fine Indian Cuisine “A Treat for the senses” —Hartford Courant “Amid elegance, a variety of Indian dishes” —New York Times Hours Lunch Monday - Saturday: 11:30 AM - 2:30 PM Sunday: 12:00 PM - 3:00 PM Dinner Sunday - Thursday: 5:00 PM - 10:00 PM Friday - Saturday: 5:00 PM - 10:30 PM

Every Day Lunch Buffet 148 York Street, New Haven, CT 06511 203-776-8644 www.zaroka.com

Lost-Sense of purpose. If found, call--nah, fuck it.

Dear Burger King’s King, You’re a pretty creepy guy. But I can’t help feeling that you’re actually an extended metaphor for the nearly monarchical power of corporate America, and your royal regalia is deeply symbolic of the pageantry we’ve come to associate with Big Business (and fast food in particular). That’s what my daddy, who’s a professor, says anyway.

—Little Timmy, Grade 6 Dear Little Timmy, Nah, I’m just a regular old creepy guy.

—The King

POPE RESIGNS, CITING DESIRE TO SPEND MORE TIME WITH CHILDREN Dear Department of Transportation, I wish to register a complaint about traffic lights. They are inordinately confusing. I entirely fail to understand how they’re supposed to signal when to stop and when to go.

Sincerely, Biff Bartholomew, a man with red-green colorblindness whose head is attached upside-down Dear U.S. government, I’m not sure you fully understand the consequences of your failure to invest in NASA. Oh, sure, funding space exploration could have inspired generations of Americans, and we could have seen a tenfold return on the investment in new technologies, etc., etc. But the real tragedy is that if Americans had singlehandedly built what is now called the International Space Station, then we could have named it the American Space Station. ASS. ASS. Sincerely, Ben Pinkman, DC ‘15

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TOWN OF SLEEPY HOLLOW COLLAPSES INTO GIANT SINKHOLE WHILE RESIDENTS SLEEP, IN WORLD’S MOST IRONIC DISASTER Dear Cruella de Vil, Your adoption application has been most emphatically denied. Even if we did in fact “sell” puppies “in bulk” and “bred exactly to fur industry specifications,” you would still be the most glaringly unfit pet owner the world has ever seen.

—The SPCA Dear SPCA, I was deeply offended that you called Ms. DeVil “the most glaringly unfit pet owner the world has ever seen.” I worked hard for that title.

Respectfully, Michael Vick

JURORS, FOURTH GRADERS, CAN’T WAIT TILL NEXT RECESS 57 BROADWAY, NEW HAVEN, CT 203-789-2157

Dear pants, You’re not going anywhere.

Sincerely, Man who has both suspenders and a belt

57 BROADWAY, NEW HAVEN, CT 203-789-2157

Dear Single Arm Floating in River, This is horrible! You pose so many complicated questions. Who did this to you? Where’s the rest of you? Did you taste good? How do I retrieve you?

Where’s a good place to buy tabasco sauce? And a strong knife?

—Justin Bieber P.S. I’m a cannibal

NEW SPECIES OF SPIDER DISCOVERS SCIENTISTS, EATS THEM Dear Pope Francis, Holy shit!

My work here is done, The Vatican plumber Dear schoolchildren, Please-e-i-e-i-o stop making fun-e-i-ei-o of my Tourette’s syndrome-e-i-e-i-o.

It’s a serious medical condition-e-i-ei-o and I don’t appreciate-e-i-e-i-o the relentless bullying-e-i-e-i-o.

Sincerely, Old MacDonald, Farmer Dear Barack Obama, I have just about had it with your shit.

Sincerely, Barack Obama circa 2008

WIKIPEDIA FINISHED

THE YALE RECORD AND TRUMBULL COLLEGE PRESENT:

ZACH WEINER CREATOR OF AWARD-WINNING WEBCOMIC

SATURDAY MORNING BREAKFAST CEREAL

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 20TH 4:00 PM TRUMBULL COLLEGE MASTERS HOUSE