The Last Ever Issue

Vol. 147, No. 8

THE YALE

Apr. 26, 2019

RECORD

“The Nation’s Oldest Humor Magazine” or

“The Nation’s Most Humorous Old Magazine” Join us:

Chair@yalerecord.org

BULLDOG DAYS GONE AWRY: PROSPECTIVE STUDENT ANNOUNCES THAT “YALE FEELS LIKE HOME,” PROMPTLY BEGINS MASTURBATING IN HOST’S COMMON ROOM Dear Man Across the Pond, You call yourself a fisherman?

Bah! I caught plenty more fish in my day: 12, perhaps more. Work on your technique before you fish on this lake again.

Sincerely, Man on Other Side of Pond P.S. That’s a snazzy hat you’ve got on.

DIVERSITY WIN! THIS AFRICANAMERICAN CHILD FROM THE INNER CITY NAMED DIVERSITY JUST WON A 100 METER RACE!

Dear Man on Other Side of Pond, I want to become a better fisherman. I really do; but I was never taught the way of the rod. My father was a great fisherman before he went missing. All I have left of him is this wonderful hat he bestowed to me. I’ve worn it ever since.

Sincerely, Man Across the Pond P.S. That’s a nice pendant with a picture of me as a child you’ve got on.

THERE’S NO BUSINESS LIKE SHOW BUSINESS: THE TONYS HAVE AGREED TO LET KEVIN HART HOST BECAUSE HE’S THE ONLY BLACK PERSON THEY KNOW Dear Man Across the Pond, Son?

Sincerely, Man on Other Side of Pond

CHANGING NORMS: MY 5-YEAR-OLD SON NORM KEEPS ASKING ME TO JOIN HIM IN THE BATHROOM AND HELP HIM CHANGE, BUT THE SIGHT OF HIS PREPUBESCENT PENIS INDUCES FEELINGS OF NAUSEA, MIGRAINES, AND CONSTIPATION. IF YOU OR A LOVED ONE SUFFERS FROMObituary HAVING TOCorrection STARE AT MY CHILD NORM’S HIDEOUS ACORNPENIS, ASK YOUR DOCTOR IF XANAX IS RIGHT FOR YOU. The Yale Record Editorial Board would like to apologize for an erroneous obituary in a previous issue of the magazine. The editors confused Stephen Hawking with skateboarder Tony Hawk, misidentifying the late theoretical physicist as “X Games champion and founder of the ‘Boom Boom HuckJam’ BMX freestyle motocross tour.”

YOUR AD CAN'T GO HERE CLEARLY THIS SPOT'S TAKEN, DUMBASS

NEW: O

--Is Se

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THE NEW ANTI-VAXXERS? WE INJECTED OUR CHILDREN WITH GROWTH HORMONES SO THEY CAN PUNCH THEIR DISEASES AWAY LIKE GOOD CHRISTIAN MEN Hey Suitemate Maria, When you go to Starbucks, do you giggle when they ask, “Do you want regular milk or soy milk?” Cuz you know, like, to you, it probably sounds like they’re saying “I am milk,” right? Ha! Just wondering!

Love ya, Becca P.S. Can you pick me up an almond milk latte (to avoid any confusion lol)?

A FITTING SEND-OFF: THIS MICHAEL JACKSON TRIBUTE CONCERT FEATURED A CHILDREN’S CHOIR Dear Becca, I am fucking Portuguese. I don’t like you. I’ll give you credit for remembering that I read the Record, but still, fuck you. I am not your “chica.” I certainly don’t care that you think you “know what my people have been through” because you read El Libro Secreto de Daniel Torres in L2 Spanish. Fuck you. And no, I will not get you coffee.

Go to hell, Maria

LENT FTW! I GAVE UP MY ANTIDEPRESSANTS FOR FORTY DAYS AND NOW I CAN GET HARD FOR PASTOR MIKE AGAIN

Dear Yale Facilities, I hate to say it, but I had another fatty dump in the Bass bathroom and the toilet is clogged for the third time this week.

My apologies, Benny

THERE’S NO BUSINESS LIKE SHOW BUSINESS: PENN AND TELLER JUST ANNOUNCED THAT ALTHOUGH THEY ARE TECHNICALLY IN A COMMON LAW MARRIAGE, ANYTHING GOES IN SIN CITY Dear Benny, For the third time this week, your “fatty dump” would not have clogged the pipes if you had done it in the toilet like a normal person instead of in the water fountain. I don’t know how you made it to Yale without learning how to poop.

Sincerely, Yale Facilities

RADICAL INCLUSIVITY? THIS PROFESSOR DID NOT BREAK EYE CONTACT WITH A CHEROKEE STUDENT DURING HIS MANIFEST DESTINY LECTURE Dear Professor Poppins, Please call me by my name.

We’re 2 months into the semester, and it’s really starting to bother me. You always just say “Hey, you!” or “This guy!” and frankly, I’m sick of it. Call me by my goddamn name.

Sincerely, Eye Fuk Goäts

T he C merica Torporate he L a st EA ver I ssueI ssue Dear Dad, When will you come back home?

You said you were going out for a pack of cigarettes and I haven’t seen you since. I miss you.

Love, Son

THE NEW ANTI-VAXXERS: THIS FAMILY WON’T FEED THEIR KIDS BECAUSE FOOD IS A VACCINE AGAINST STARVATION Dear Son, I left home five minutes ago. I’m literally just getting cigarettes. You don’t have to keep sending me letters every time I run errands.

See you in a few, Dad

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Dear 21 Savage, Why you got a 12-car garage when you only got 6 cars?

Best, Timothy

Timothy, It is because my cars are incredibly large. They are long, but more importantly, they are wide, and cannot fit in normal-sized parking spaces. I can barely fit my obese automobiles through the garage doors.

Additionally, I have a lot of garden implements and junk in my garage which take up a considerable amount of space, not to mention my children, who live in there. And I’m rich as fuck so I can just buy huge garages if I want. Did I mention I have six cars?

Six super THICC cars? Yeah that’s what I thought.

Cordially, 21 Savage

Check out our website, yalerecord.org, for more hilarious content!

FOR HIRE: Copy editor or copyeditor.

Whichever you prefer. This is a joke for copy editors.

—R. Chang

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Dear Stand-up Comedy Audience, What’s the DEAL with my wife?

I mean, why is she leaving me? Is it something specific I did, or am I simply flawed as a human being?

Sincerely, A Stand-up Comedian

FREUDIAN SLIP! I KEEP ASKING MY MOM TO BREASTFEED ME EVEN THOUGH I KNOW SHE HAD A MASTECTOMY WHEN I WAS 19

A FITTING TRIBUTE: I JUST DID AN AMAZING STEPHEN HAWKING IMPRESSION WHILE HAVING SEX WITH THE SCHOOL NURSE

Dear The Audience, I mean, SERIOUSLY! I am not doing a bit here, guys. I miss my wife so much!

Sincerely, A Stand-up Comedian Obituary Correction

Dear Stand-up Comedian, Ha-ha-ha! Very good. Really good stuff. Ha-ha-ha!

Sincerely, The Audience

The Yale Record Editorial Board would like to apologize for an erroneous obituary in a previous issue of the magazine. The editors confused Stephen Hawking with skateboarder Tony Hawk, misidentifying the late theoretical physicist as “X Games champion and founder of the ‘Boom Boom HuckJam’ BMX freestyle motocross tour.”

YOUR AD CAN'T GO HERE CLEARLY THIS SPOT'S TAKEN, DUMBASS

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Dear Stand-up Comedian, OMG ha-ha-ha I’m dying. Why is this ME? This guy is too much. Ha ha ha.

Sincerely, The Audience

NERDS REJOICE! A GUY DRESSED LIKE DARTH VADER IS MASTURBATING ON THE SUBWAY Dear Italians, Stop slapping my son with a large --Shampoo-salami. I don’t care how much he --Conditioner-sweats; he--Body willWash-never obey you. Also --Lighter Fluid-please stopAnd digging holes in my yard.

--Is Self-Aware Can Do Your Taxes-Sincerely, “Great for Normal to Oily ASkin!”

Concerned Parent

NEW: Old Spice Men’s 5 in 1 Shower Gel

Emmy Waldman ‘11

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here is a place where the Record ends and before whatever comes after begins. I don’t think any of us ever expected to find it, but we’re glad we did. It is very beautiful here. There are shimmering apples on the trees, so perfect they could be crystal. It is like Eden except no one is having sex with each other.

There’s no rule that says we can’t have sex with each other. It’s not like actual Eden where a snake would bite our genitals off if it smelled us getting horny. We’re just not doing it.

The best part about this place is that everyone that’s ever written for the Record is here, even household names like Grosvenor Atterbury and Stoddard “The King” King.

The sun is so bright that all the alumni look really white. Yes, most of our alumni are Caucasian, but to us, they are so much more than that: they are also wealthy, and sometimes, they give us money that we use to buy alcohol. In this way, they are better allies than many of you, who gave us so little money we had to stop printing. Nice work, idiots.

We have to break the news to the alumni that we will be the last generation to come here. Our publisher, Chloe Prendergast, bankrupted us by giving our magazines away for free, failing to capitalize on the print media boom that has upended our nation’s economy in recent years. Also, she bought us a lot of alcohol, even though most of us are underage. She can’t get in trouble for this, because she was also underage and used a fake I.D. to buy the alcohol. She is thus protected under Romeo and Juliet laws. Besides, it’s not like she let anyone underage drink and drive. She only let us drink and drive if we were twenty one and up, or if we passed a field sobriety test that involved us blowing as hard as we could on her neck until she said something like “mommy likey” or “that’s the stuff,” or if we promised we had driven drunk a few times before and never crashed. I vetted this editorial by Chloe and she said it was totally fine. As she told me, “If embezzling money from the Yale Record Corporation to get kids drunk and have them blow on my neck to assess their ability to drive is a crime, then lock me up. Now keep blowing. Yeah.

T he C merica Torporate he L a st EA ver I ssueI ssue That’s the stuff. Mommy likey.”

Much like the Pied Piper, Chloe got a lot of kids drunk and then led us over the cliff into the Garden of Eden, where no one has sex because God doesn’t let us use birth control so everyone’s afraid of getting pregnant. Of course, this is a coming of age story, one with countless parallels to my own childhood: Chloe is my mother, who let me drink on special occasions like Veterans’ Day or “Wine Wednesdays”; God is my sex education teacher who wouldn’t let me borrow any of his condoms, no matter how loudly I pleaded in his office to “Please let me use a condom this time!”; the cliff is “coming of age”; and the Garden of Eden is that one time I got a boner in church.

But this story is also an allegory for Icarus, which in turn is an allegory for the fall of the Record, which the alumni are pissed about. They’re having trouble understanding how we spent all the money they gave us because they’ve forgotten what it’s like to be young and reckless; what it’s like to get one too many DUI fines; what it’s like to fly a little too close to the sun.

And so, like Adam and Eve, we are banished from the garden, each of us forced to discover a new place where the Record ends and before whatever comes after begins. Some find it alone in their bedrooms, trying to think of a last line for their last piece, three fucking weeks after the deadline. Others find it at Yorkside, trying to sell an ad for our Last Ever Issue but yet again encountering the ill of Italian-American anti-Semitism. I find it in the Morse computer lab: a room full of Apples that glisten but aren’t quite crystal, though the Retina 5K display comes pretty goddamned close. I’m at an iMac with inDesign, fixing indentation for the last time. You can imagine how pissed I was when I found this place after bringing my dumbass iPad all the way from home.

I was like, “You’ve got to be kidding me!” and threw my iPad Ellen Yang ’20 Chair

straight into the trash. Now I just use this desktop. It doesn’t fit in my backpack, so it’s a pain in the ass to carry around campus, but there are certain teachers that don’t let you take notes on a laptop, so I have no choice.

It’s crazy to think that the people who founded this magazine could have never foreseen it ending like this. For one, they could have never imagined the breathtaking resolution of a Retina 5K display. But I also don’t think they could have envisioned the sprawling community it would foster, tens of people all around campus, bringing this thing home.

There is a place where this editorial ends and before the Last Ever Issue of the Yale Record begins. It is a list of people I cherish who drove this institution into the fucking ground. This last part is for those people:

Let us leave this place where the chalkboard’s black, After an ME types and sends.

Past the groans of the last ever Cucumber show, We shall walk arm-in-arm, unathletic and slow, And watch where the chalk-white headlines go To the place where the Record ends.

—E. Connors Editor in Chief

Elliot Connors ’20 Editor in Chief

Noah Amsel ’20 Webmaster

Caleb Cohen ’21 Managing Editor

Walker Caplan ’20 Online Managing Editor

Mariah Kreutter ’20 Managing Editor

Harry Rubin ’21 Managing Editor

Rishi Mirchandani ’19 Old Owl

Nathan Ewing-Crystal ’19 Old Owl

Liz Kingsley ’19 Old Owl

Colin Baciocco ’21 Ethan Fogarty ’21 Itai Almor ’20 David Hou ’22 Kaylee Walsh ’22 Davey McCowin ’21

Dalia Moallem ’21 Veena Muraleetharan ’20 Paige Davis ’21 Alex Kane ’22 Luna Garcia ’22 Will Cramer ’22

Jocelyn Wexler ’21 Grace Wynter ’20 Amanda Thomas ’21 Vivek Suri ’20 Kyle Mazer ’22 Ryan Fuentes ’22

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Jake Houston ’19 Online Editor in Chief

Dylan SchifrinDylan ’20 Schifrin Adam ’20 Chase ’19 Director NathanofEwing-Crystal Online Content’19 Director DirectorofofOnline Special Content Projects

Chloe Prendergast ’20 Publisher

Simon Custer ’20 Business Manager

Brian Beitler MD ’22 Medical Counsel

Marcy Sanchez ’21 Design Editor

Adam Chase ’19 Director of Special Projects

Maddy Blaney ’21 Staff Director

Adam Lessing ’19 Old Owl

Vicky Liu ’19 Old Owl

Lane Unsworth ’19 Old Owl

Sarah Force ’21 Alec Zbornak ’21 Ryan Ofman ’22 Cameron Berg ’22 Maya Sanghvi ’22 Alex Hoganson ’20

Max Nobel ’21 Kiran Chokshi ’20 Rosa Chang ’22 Tom Battles ’20 Zuri Goodman ’22 Sonia Ruiz ’19

Laura Koech ’21 Yonatan Greenberg ’21 Omar Zakaria ’22 Victoria Chen ’21 Ben Lauring ’22 Nick Abuzalaf ’21

Staff:

Special thanks to: Jesus Christ, who invented the publicity stunt of fake dying and then “coming back to life” a couple months later.

Front Cover: Itai Almor ’20, who could illustrate some really fucked-up children’s books if he wanted to.

Back Cover: Itai Almor ’20, who could father some really fucked-up children if he wanted to.

Founded September 11, 1872 • Vol. CXLVII, No. 8, Published in New Haven, CT by The Yale Record, Inc. Box 204732, New Haven, CT 06520 • yalerecord.org • Subscriptions: $50/year (print) • $10/year (electronic) All contents copyright 2018 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: Chair, The Yale Record, PO Box 204732, New Haven, CT 06520, or chair@yalerecord.org. Offer only valid at participating retailers while supplies last. The Yale Record would like to high-five the UOFC for its financial support.

THE RECORD’S AFTER CREDITS SCENE ELLIOT, the washed-up, former Editor in Chief of the Yale Record, and CALEB, the newly-appointed, now-jobless Editor in Chief, stand alone inside LC 209, perhaps for the last time.

Elliot: Come on, let’s go.

Caleb: I just can’t believe it’s over. I mean, I was Editor in Chief for like a week. Hell, I was just a kid looking for a quick laugh; but before I knew it, I was hoppin’ on this crazy, runaway train. (Looks into the beyond, then begins to sing) Just a small town girl— Elliot: (hurried) Yeah, yeah, how about you shut the fuck up. Listen, I really need to get out of here. I may or may not have to be present at a “pedophilia-related trial” in like 20 minutes.

Caleb: (confused) Of course, yeah my bad. Hey, you know what: Go ahead. I’ll close up shop here.

Elliot: Ah man, thanks a lot. You know how these things go.

Elliot coyly winks at Caleb, who nods in return but doesn’t know what the fuck Elliot’s talking about. Elliot exits, leaving Caleb in silence. An open window makes its presence known by a breeze that ruffles Caleb’s silk chemise. From outside comes a faint, aged voice which calls out to Caleb.

Voice: Hello Caleb.

Caleb: Who said that?

He can vaguely make out the silhouette of a great bird: an owl to be exact.

Owl: Tis I, the Old Record Owl. I’ve been here since the magazine’s inception in 1872. For 150 years, we’ve been churning out primo content, save for a brief hiatus during World War II when we were evading the draft by Anne Franking in the penthouse of the Omni. You know how things go. Anyways, we’re back and better than ever.

Caleb: Yea, I’ve read some of the old issues and they’re kinda problematic— Owl: Now, now: Let’s not dwell on the past.

Caleb: No, I mean, it was really messed up. The jokes you guys made about women. And now I hear you’re planning on doing “The Race Issue?”

Owl: Hey, uh, why don’t you shut the fuck up? I’m trying to help you here! If you want to save The Record, follow me.

Caleb slowly approaches the window. Owl does that cool-ass thing where he turns his head all the way around then flies out, beckoning Caleb to follow. Looking back again at the empty room of LC 209, Caleb takes a deep breath, climbs out of the window, and flies into the beyond.

—M. Blaney

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WE FED A BOT A THOUSAND RECORD HEADLINES AND THIS IS WHAT IT CAME UP WITH Top Three Reasons I Am Fourteen Breaking! I Talked To My Dad About Sex. He Said “Be Cool. Do Cocaine. Sleep In A Fraternity With Dean Chun Because I Divorced Your Mom And Don’t Believe In ‘Vaccines.’”

Top Four Reasons For Science Fuck Harvard! My Dad Is My Father And I Fuck.

Take This Quiz To Find Out How Many Dollars You Will Gain If You “Jeff Bezos” A First-Year After Hours.

TOP THREE REASONS I AM FOURTEEN Everyone in my Econ seminar thinks it’s weird that I sit naked on a yoga mat but my chakras align in cash flow.

My body is Jewish, but first and foremost, I am DJ Action.

Age. TOP FOUR REASONS FOR SCIENCE You call it doing pot at a naked party, we call it “shut the fuck up, I have high body positivity, Sharon.”

Have I mentioned my dad is my father who I fuck?

My roommate is from Amazon but he spends most of his time in Bass Library. We don’t talk, so it took me about five days before I realized he died, thanks to John McCain. At night, I can hear Peter Salovey howl in the dining halls.

Because I am alone thanks to race relations.

—K. Mazer

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YALE RECORD FINALLY PUBLISHES OFFENSIVE ARTICLE FROM 1912

By H. RUBIN NEW HAVEN, CT—After 107 years, the editors of the Yale Record have finally decided to publish one of the few articles ever deemed unfit to print.

“We’re shutting down the magazine, so we really have nothing to lose. Also, it’s definitely been long enough that nobody cares if we call the Triangle Shirtwaist Fire ‘the best thing to happen all year,’” said Editor in Chief Elliot Connors. Connors described how some minor editorial changes will be made to maintain the piece’s topicality, including updating the description of the fire to “‘the best thing to happen in the twentieth and early twenty-first century.’”

Some editors expressed reservations about Connors’s decision. “I don’t know why Elliot’s so fixated on that Triangle Fire stuff. Nobody even knows what that is,” said Chair Ellen Yang.

“There were worse parts to the article, like when the writer called women ‘vile harridans who should all choke and die.’ Publishing it would be offensive.”

Still, Connors argued that not publishing the article would be more offensive than publishing it. “The guy who wrote the article actually died in the trenches three years later, so to not print his magnum opus would be a slight to troops everywhere,” argued Connors. “And before you ask, no, I don’t care that he was a German soldier. A troop is a troop, no matter his nationality or size.

If that makes me woke, then so be it.”

The article includes other controversial material, including a lyrical section detailing the author’s upbringing alongside a young Adolf Hitler.

The writer refers to Hitler as “Little Hitley from the old neighborhood” and details how he will “one day prove all the bullies and teachers and child psychologists wrong.”

Though the Record may be forever remembered as the magazine that commemorated Hitler in 2019, Connors isn’t concerned. “Bringing Little Hitley back into the public eye is a small price to pay for finally getting this Triangle story out there.”

At press time, the Record was debating whether to finally publish a 2001 piece describing 9/11 as a “second, lamer Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire.”

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home stretch, he slipped on a banana peel and died of shingles in midair. Bonzo: more like Bozo!

Tater Tot Trot: Webmaster Noah Amsel bet it all on this two-year-old thoroughbred from Lawton, Oklahoma, not knowing that Tater Tot would be kicking off his terrible twos with some terrible luck. Just five seconds into the race, Tater was struck head on by a monster truck. Soon after, Caesar’s announced over the loudspeaker that they had “goofed up” and scheduled a monster truck rally for the same time as the horse race.

However, they declined to refund Noah for his unlucky bet, arguing that they had ultimately given him “two spectacles for the price of one.”

—J. Adam HORSES WE BET OUR ENDOWMENT ON, RANKED BY HOW QUICKLY INTO THE RACE THEY COLLAPSED AND DIED Last week, the Record went on our annual retreat to Caesar’s Entertainment Off-Track Betting. Little did we know, we were about to blow our entire endowment on some particularly unlucky four-legged friends.

Dusty Cheyanne: Editor in Chief Elliot Connors decided to bet half the endowment on this two-year-old thoroughbred from Topeka, Kansas. One hundred meters into the race, Dusty Cheyanne broke her two front legs for attention. She struggled to her feet and started running all bipedal like an angry mother bear, but then she also snapped her hind legs, leaving her in a dusty heap on the track.

Bonzo: Simon Custer put his reputation as Business Manager to the test when he bet a quarter of the endowment on Bonzo, a fourteen-year-old veteran from Eureka Springs, Arkansas. Bonzo got out fast and was leading the pack for three furlongs, but on the

Smokin’ Jo Dandy: With most of these horses, we couldn’t have predicted they would collapse and die in the middle of the race. However, Managing Editor Harry Rubin should’ve known better with Smokin’ Jo Dandy, mainly because Smokin’ Jo wasn’t even a horse. He was the hot dog vendor who Harry somehow convinced to leap onto the track and win the race so he could “finally get out of the weiner game for good.” Smokin’ Jo was promptly trampled, and with him, the Record’s dreams of financial solvency.

Sub Zero: Staff Director Maddy Blaney threw her hat into the ring and staked it all on Sub Zero, a fiveyear-old steed from South Bend, Indiana. Sub Zero was in the lead until the home stretch, when he was suddenly decapitated by a low-flying plane. Sub Zero’s legs and torso skidded across the finish line in first place, but after a urine test, he was disqualified by the National Thoroughbred Racing Association for using performance-enhancing drugs. Sub Zero might have lost the race, but the real loser was the Record’s bank account.

—C. Cohen

—­P. Davis

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WE ALL GOT SYPHILIS. SORRY! I am here to dispel several fictions that have cropped up elsewhere in this issue. You may have heard that we are ending the Record because of financial instability. While this is partly true, it does not even begin to do justice to the real reason we are ending the Record, which is that we all got syphilis. Sorry!

I suppose you are wondering how we all got syphilis. It began with a well-intentioned but ill-advised trip to Kansas City to commit some patented Record financial fraud. We planned on doing this by asking the good people of Kansas City for investments, which we would secretly siphon off into our stripper slush fund. Little did we know that the city was dealing with an outbreak of, you guessed it, syphilis. In my overconfidence, I had forgotten to bring along my trademark syringes of penicillin, which was surprising, because my mom is always saying, “I love you sweet boy, but where the fuck are your syringes?” every time I leave the house.

It’s too bad, because there was so much more I wanted to see in life, like the rest of Kansas City. But it doesn’t really matter anymore, mostly because I am unable to distinguish reality from my syphilitic hallucinations. Did I turn off the stove before leaving the house? Were we really audited by the IRS after trying to pass off our new Editor in Chief, Caleb Cohen, as a comatose war veteran?

Still, I have maintained an optimistic outlook. It’s like they always say: “Without syphilis, how could we know joy?” Many famous people have had the syph, like Oscar Wilde and Al Capone. This means I, too, could one day be a writer, or even a Public Enemy No. 1.

So that, my friends, is the reason we are ending the Record. The last thing we would want to do is sully the good name of syphilis with our distasteful humor. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go petition to change Yale’s mascot from Handsome Dan to the more inclusive Handsome Syphilis.

—P. Davis THINGS I MISS

JFK. I didn’t realize how much I liked him until he died, and then, approximately thirty years later, I was born.

Brookstone. Maybe I should have bought one of those personal massage wands instead of just using the demo model in the bathroom until I was removed by mall personnel.

The ocean as it crashes upon the shore, only to be dragged back into the unending water, its ephemeral freedom dashed by the pull of the blue abyss.

My punk-ass kids.

The days I could sit out on my back porch as the sun was setting and gaze into the infinite beyond, thinking the —D. Schifrin world was my oyster, that I could do or be anything that I wanted, that my parents would love me no matter what.

Sometimes it’s hard to distinguish the things I miss from the things I’ve missed. All jumbled into one big mess of loss and ruin. A wise woman once told me not to look at the past, so I don’t. Instead, I look into the distance, into the future, where the sea grazes the sky.

ISIS. Without them haunting my dreams, I have nothing to talk to my child psychiatrist about.

—J. Adam

—R. Fuentes and M. Sanghvi

WAYS THE YALE RECORD IS LIKE THE HINDENBURG Both took trips to Manhattan in the months before they tanked Both of their downfalls received extensive media coverage: the Hindenburg’s by WLS Radio Chicago, the Yale Record’s by the Yale Record Both are pictured on the cover of Led Zeppelin’s eponymous debut album (we are the ones driving the Hindenburg) Both figured it was a bad idea to go to Jersey, but ended up having an unforgettable night Both experienced leadership turnover as a result of DUI’s Both dumped 500 kg of water ballast in a futile attempt to correct a stern-heavy approach to the mooring mast Both are kind of funny when you think about it

—C. Cohen Design by Vivek Suri

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FUNDRAISING IDEAS THAT DIDN’T PAN OUT Raffle for a free Record subscription Refugees Run a 5K for the Record Last Comic “Standing:” Watch Kevin Hart play musical chairs by himself because the other celebrities we invited dropped out once they heard Kevin Hart was coming.

Pong for the Kids! (This one wasn’t our fault. The kids didn’t show up.)

Memorial Day-grams: For five dollars, we’ll send that special someone graphic images from the Vietnam War. Basically a sexy car wash, but instead of washing your car, we wash your body.

Yale Mental Health FastPass auction: Skip the threemonth wait!

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SLOGANS TO SAVE THE RECORD Now with fifty percent less ads! There’s no extra content, just blank pages where we should have sold ads.

We have your fucking kid. The ransom note will be on page seven of our next issue, in dining halls everywhere!

For the price of a cup of coffee, you can buy a copy of the Record filled with cold cuts to send to a kid in Africa.

Subscribe now and get a free tote filled with cold cuts that we’ll send straight to Africa.

Jared from Subway reads the Record everyday and he’s lost even more weight. Unfortunately, he’s still a pedophile.

What else are you going to read? Rumpus?

—Staff

—S. Force

THINGS THE RECORD OFFICE MIGHT BECOME A Blockbuster Video The first-ever above-ground dog-fighting arena A late night dining hall for WASPs who “feel on edge” in Slifka A safe space for people who got rejected from college improv (some things never change) A safe space for people who do college improv (some things never change) A pediatrician’s waiting room (the joke is that we have a lot of magazines in our office, and also that our new Online Editor in Chief Harry Rubin sometimes invites us behind the storage cabinet for a “pants-off examination.”)

The William Howard Taft ’78 Presidential Library. Our office is just big enough to fit the bathtub where he got stuck and died, so that will be the only exhibit. Admission will be fifty dollars.

A memorial where people cry, like the Vietnam Veterans Memorial YDN vacation home —L. Garcia

—I. Almor

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UNDERSTANDING THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE END OF THE RECORD AND THE FALL OF ISIS

The Fall of ISIS: No more brutal decapitation of prisoners ISIS tried to take credit for the Charlie Hebdo shooting

The End of The Record:

Both institutions went bankrupt after an ill-planned tour of Iraq and Syria Niche fanbase has to find a new hobby

ISIS was intolerant of other religions ISIS rebranded at least three times al-Qaeda back to being top bitch

Both milestones celebrated

by Christians "It's about fucking time."

—C. Berg Design by Vivek Suri

No more jokes about Handsome Dan getting neutered The Record tastefully held off on publishing a cartoon of Muhammad getting sucked off

by Charlie Chaplin à la Call Me

By Your Name, with the caption “Je Suis Charlie.”

The Record welcomed all members, regardless of their creed of Judaism Self-identified “creatives” never once rebranded

al-Qaeda still beholden to the dictates of Yale’s Office for Diversity and Inclusion

RECORD, YOU’RE TOAST!

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ANOTHER SWENSEN OUTBURST: YALE CIO LASHES OUT AT RECORD ONLINE EDITOR IN CHIEF JAKE HOUSTON From: Jake Houston <jacob.houston@yale.edu> To: David Swensen <david.swensen@yale.edu> Subject: Question About Number Hi Mr. Swensen, What is “billion”?

Love, Jake From: David Swensen <david.swensen@yale.edu> To: Jake Houston <jacob.houston@yale.edu> Subject: Re: Question About Number Jake, Billion is big million. Hope this helps David From: Jake Houston <jacob.houston@yale.edu> To: David Swensen <david.swensen@yale.ediu>.

Subject: Re: Re: Question About Number Hi Mr. Swensen, Thank you. Now I can give my report on how “billion is the same as million.”

Love, Jake From: David Swensen <david.swensen@yale.edu> To: Jake Houston <jacob.houston@yale.edu> Subject: Re: Re: Re: Question About Number Jake, I am furious. Don’t you understand simple English?

You were not to edit and you did – disgusting! Clearly billion is not the same as million. I find your actions inexcusable. Billion is big, big million – I wrote that in capital letters. Somehow you failed to mention that you edited my words against my explicit instructions by removing one word – “big” – and adding three – “the same as.” What a coward! What is the matter with you? If you had engaged with me, I would have taught you that billion is not the same as million – Let’s just leave things as they are.

David Sent from my Blackberry, the most secure mobile device.

—J. Houston and M. Abuzalaf

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SWENSEN DIVESTS FROM THE RECORD

By J. FEINBERG NEW HAVEN, CT—In what investors are calling a “completely unsurprising, financially responsible” move, Yale Investments Office announced Thursday that it would divest all assets from the Yale Record Corporation.

This abrupt withdrawal of the Record’s largest shareholder has raised concerns about the publication’s fiscal solvency moving forward.

The decision comes after months of student lobbying for Chief Investment Officer David Swensen to divest from morally bankrupt institutions. As the Yale Endowment Justice Coalition announced in a press release, “the Record’s staffers are a lot like climate change deniers: They publish information without any sourcing or research and only get involved because they don’t have much else going for them.”

In protest of the Record, members of the Coalition occupied the lobby of the Investments Office last week, bringing only a Puerto Rican flag, a line graph depicting rising global temperatures, and 800 unread copies of the Record they found in the Timothy Dwight dining hall. After administrators turned off the building’s heat, protesters opted to burn the Puerto Rican flag for warmth, leaving the Record issues untouched as “a constant reminder of what they’re really fighting for.”

Though many have attributed Swensen’s decision to pressure from activists, Goldman Sachs analyst and Yale alumni Benedict Pinard ’14 offered a different explanation. “The Record’s stock is shit,” said Pinard. “Their only source of income is $800-a-year in ad revenue from House of Naan, half of which they spend Ubering to House of Naan each time they want to sell an ad. I know four-yearolds who are more fiscally responsible than the Record’s business team.” When asked for his advice on how to salvage the Record, Pinard suggested the magazine market itself to retirement homes, since “only 80-year-olds are dumb enough to not just watch Netflix when they want to laugh.”

At press time, Swensen was considering re-investing in the bankrupt Record’s debt.

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EVERYTHING WE SHOULDN’T HAVE SPENT MONEY ON Dental insurance for staff Space race against the Harvard Lampoon Water park in Chernobyl, Ukraine John McCain 2020 Super PAC Looking for WMDs in Iraq $300 donation to renovate Commons in honor of our hero, Stephen A. Schwarzman (see below) One-second Super Bowl ad (No, we didn’t realize the slogan “We’ve Got the Meats!” was already taken.)

Eliminating the Student Income Contribution for one and a half students Goldman management for our $400 in liquid assets Trying to one-up the YCC by offering free IUDs in all the residential colleges Printing this issue —Staff

­—I. Almor WHAT WE’RE GOING TO DO FROM NINE TO TEN ON MONDAYS NOW Write letters to the troops asking them if it snows in Iraq Catch up on Roseanne Find out who the Unabomber really is Help the elderly cross the street, into our trap Fuck Ted Kaczynski Watch two episodes of Sixty Minutes —P. Davis

—Staff

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OTHER ORGANIZATIONS YOU MUST HAVE BEEN DONATING TO PETA: Really? The only thing PETA’s given us is naked celebrities protesting fur coats. We’re not here to judge, but you could have fed two birds with one scone and donated to the Record. Not only are we too broke to afford fur: we’re also naked sometimes.

The National Association for the Advancement of Colored People: Oh, so suddenly comedic institutions aren’t spaces amenable to the advancement of colored people?

Girl Scouts of America: Completely overrated. My sister was a Girl Scout and she’s not funny at all.

The Gambino Family, one of the Five Families of the Italian mob: What most people don’t know about the Gambino Family is that they are actually a front for one of the most infamous Italian-American crime families in America. We don’t blame you for getting tricked: The Gambinos are even smarter than most Italian-Americans. Next time, just be careful when a burly Italian man named “Gambino” comes to your front door asking for “money” for “the Gambino Family.”

Breitbart News Network: Okay, maybe you’re just playing both fields.

Camp Horseshoe for Boys: Camp Horseshoe For Boys has been grooming young boys into men since 1932.

The Horseshoe experience offers invaluable lessons in integrity, leadership, and fellowship: not to mention a picturesque view of the Namekagon River.

We here at the Record thought nothing was immune to our incisive, punch-up satire, until we spent one magical week at Horseshoe. We’ll see you at the Father-Son Dance.

The Make-A-Wish Foundation: We’re going to recruit a kid with cancer and make him wish for the Record to get unlimited funding.

—A. Thomas

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BREITBART NEWS AND YALE RECORD TO MERGE

By Z. BALLEISIN NEW HAVEN, CT— In a joint press release today, Breitbart News announced plans to acquire the insolvent Yale Record. The leveraged buyout was the first of several college acquisitions planned by the controversial media outlet which is hoping to “reach a radically new demographic, potentially as far left as the Buckley program.”

“Before this acquisition, the fake news Yale Record had an undeserved reputation for journalistic excellence,” wrote Breitbart Editor-InChief Alex Marlow. “The deal will allow Breitbart to hijack the Record’s powerful brand and distribution channel to spread our unique muckraking content to millions of impressionable students across the country.”

Current Record Publisher Chloe Prendergast, who helped broker the deal, remarked that joining a larger media conglomerate was the most attractive option for the ailing publication. “We sold it for $32.57, which is like twice our annual budget,” she noted. “Naturally, I said yes. Besides, I’m leaving soon, and I think it’ll be funny as hell to watch this shitshow unfold.”

The news came as a shock to many Record staffers, who were kept in the dark during the acquisition process. Senior writer Rishi Mirchandani lamented the decision, claiming the Record had violated the US Constitution, Yale’s undergraduate regulations, and its own collective bargaining agreement with staffers.

“I joined the Record to write fake fake news that was accidentally offensive,” said Mirchandani. “Little did I know I’d end up writing real fake news that was purposefully offensive.”

At press time, Breitbart and Record writers were collaborating on a piece entitled, “10 Yale Buildings that Would Look Cooler with a Trump Logo.”

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A NOTE ON OUR FOREIGN POLICY Since the Record was founded in 1872, we’ve had our fair share of scandals. But we haven’t just stirred up controversy with our satire. Did you know that the Record has also dabbled on the world political stage?

Before we go out, we want to confront our complicated history with foreign affairs: the good, the bad, and the ugly. Because what are you going to do, run us out of business?

Alright, let’s just start with the elephant in the room: our notorious involvement in the 1898 explosion of the U.S.S. Maine. Unlike some of our smaller-scale pranks, this one didn’t go over so well. In fact, it started the Spanish-American War. We know. We get it.

Honestly, if we have to apologize for it one more time, we might just go ahead and start a Second SpanishAmerican War to shut you fuckers up.

We laid low for a little, because we had “the clap.”

After the Great Depression, though, we came back with a vengeance. Did you expect us to sit around and let America stay out of the most badass war of the 1940’s? We decided to stoke the flames by sending Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto a series of letters asking Japan to “spice things up a bit.” We didn’t realize it was a bad idea until the night of December 6, 1941.

We’re genuinely sorry about this one, because my family had a stunning vacation home on Pearl Harbor.

Then, in 1962, we released a special issue in the Soviet Union, hoping to ease the tension of the Cold War. The cover story was “Ten Ways You Could Scare Americans By Putting Nuclear Missiles in Cuba for Thirteen Days,” which obviously turned out to be a little too much of a hit. But think about it: if the Cuban Missile Crisis hadn’t happened, JFK wouldn’t be half the martyr he is today. Who knows: maybe he wouldn’t have even been shot!

Honestly, we were kind of riding high after the assassination. What followed was a series of regrettable circumstances beyond our control.

On the night of his 1976 inauguration as Prime Minister of Democratic Kampuchea, we published a photo of Pol Pot with the caption, “Look at this loser: He would never have the balls to kill between 1.5 and 3 million of his people.” Unfortunately, the dictator took this as less of a light-hearted jab and more of a challenge. How were we supposed to know the dictator of Democratic Kampuchea was so power hungry!

After that, we really tried to keep out of international politics, until we decided to send our

remaining troops to Iraq to assist with the Iranian invasion of Mandali. We could rattle off the rest of our classic hijinks: Benghazi, Bin Laden’s “death”, the one we’ve got planned for next week. But why brag? We’ve had our fun, and you fuckers can’t do anything about it.

So long. We’ll see you in the race war.

—K. Walsh LIKE ALL GOOD BOY BANDS, THE RECORD MUST COME TO AN END We’ve seen it before and we’ll see it again: a group of hot, pre-hormonal prodigies flying a little too close to the sun. Alas, the novelty of children being horny can only last so long. Boy band after boy band has fallen victim to these happenstances, and now, so too shall the Record. Their issues will be burned in effigy like the cardboard cutouts of the beautiful boys that preceded them: ‘NSync, One Direction, The Jackson 5, Sting, and of course, Hanson.

Oh, how we adored Hanson! Those brothers from Tulsa, Oklahoma with locks like sunshine and voices so sweet, they brought tears to the eyes of the deaf and blood to the ears of the blind. Their soulwrenching bops were like nothing we’d heard before: not to mention their hot little bodies. I was team Zach obviously, but Taylor was a babe too. Isaac was also a Hanson brother. They say if you ask anyone where they were when Hanson released their hit single “MMMBop,” you’ll hear a story as vivid as if it was 9/11.

But right after announcing an unprecedented international tour that would have taken them from Tulsa, Oklahoma all the way to the shimmering metropolis of Sapulpa, Oklahoma, Hanson vanished.

Rumor has it that Isaac’s sister Yoko’ed them (she had sex with Isaac), but I think it was the Christmas album.

Isaac was particularly flat on “Rocking Around the Christmas Tree,” and Zach was Muslim.

Their fate reminds me all too much of the Record’s.

Ever since the “War on Christmas Issue,” there has been a schism between the magazine’s Reform Jews, who were worried about pissing off their Christian friends, and its Orthodox Jews, who went absolutely balls-to-the-wall. Also, we’re pretty sure our Business Manager, Simon, had sex with his step-sister in Cabo over spring break. The best we can hope for is a comeback album and reunion tour in eighteen years after Simon raises his child.

—K. Mazer

he C orporate A merica I ssue THIS MAY BE OURTLA ST ISSUE… BU

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The Piece Doens’t Even Hav e A Ree l Ending It Just Sotps In The Midle Of A —J. Large Design by Vivek Suri

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ja,mie this piece sucks, xoxo a secret admirer!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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21

the DKE brothers in little pens in the backyard. I guess we’ll just have to read the lease.

We’re so excited to offer this space to our staff and editorial board. To celebrate, we’ll be hosting the Record’s version of Tang this weekend. The theme will be “Searching for Chemical Weapons in Iraq.” The event will culminate in an endless treasure hunt. We encourage you to wear a gas mask, both because of the theme and because it still smells like hot vomit in here!

See you at Tang, The Yale Record —M. Sanchez OTHER THINGS THAT ENDED TOO SOON

WE SPENT ALL OUR MONEY ON THE DKE HOUSE Dear Record reader, We have some exciting news: we bought the DKE house! We wanted a welcoming and safe space for staff and friends, so we decided to invest all of our savings into the charming colonial where George W. Bush first aspired to become president of Iraq.

We got the idea from the movie We Bought a Zoo starring Matt Damon (or maybe it was Mark Wahlberg, because who can really tell them apart). We didn’t have time to watch the movie, but we read the Wikipedia page.

The plot goes a little something like this: Matt Damon/ Mark Wahlberg is searching for a house so his family can have a fresh start after his wife dies. Cry me a fucking river. Must suck to be so fucking hot. Anyway, Matt/Mark think he’s buying a normal fixer-upper, but then he hears a lion roaring in the backyard and realizes that—get this— he bought a zoo! Honestly sounds pretty sick, Matt.

We tried finding the closest thing to having a zoo on a property, and I think we did it, because this whole place smells like piss. Unfortunately, the house doesn’t come with any actual animals, but we told the landlord that the current DKE brothers would do just fine. He nodded solemnly and said “Anyone in that fraternity really is a low-life animal.” We still aren’t sure whether we can keep

The eleven-year television sensation M*A*S*H The actual Korean War, which only lasted like three years My neighbor’s house that burned down Ford Truck Month (until next year!)

My other neighbor’s house that burned down Vichy France The hardware store a few blocks away that also caught on fire My first and third pregnancies (abortion and miscarriage, respectively) Arrested Development :( The search for the serial arsonist in my neighborhood My abridged prison sentence The prison that burned down —K. Walsh A VERY BAD LIST OF OUR VERY WORST LISTS The Fattest Kids We Saw At The Movie Theater Reasons Why You Should Be Mean To Old People Top 49 States (in no particular order) Trendiest Ethnicities The Philosophy Department’s 5 Biggest Cucks Just The Number 7 Listed 11 Times My 10 Favorite Scenes In Shoah The Genders Ranked Best To Worst 20 Hospital Parking Garages To Visit Before You Die Cutest Pets To Beat With Ballpeen Hammers A Very Bad List Of Our Very Worst Lists —H. Rubin

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THE BIG REVEAL: MY RECORD CRUSH

Well, the Record is officially going under, which means I can finally reveal my crush without fear of backlash! It’s like when that old couple in Titanic spent their final moments boning like there was no tomorrow.

Because, when you think about it, for them, in a way, there was no tomorrow, because of the whole Titanic thing.

I think about that scene a lot. I wonder things about that couple. Did the husband use Viagra? Did Viagra even exist back then? Maybe the adrenaline of the situation helped him rise to the occasion, if you know what I mean. If you don’t, I’ll clarify: I’m referring to his ability to remain calm under pressure.

I wonder what that old couple’s last words to each other were. Maybe they were like George Washington’s famous last words: “Even though I was never president, at least I did some shit with peanuts.” Or maybe they were more like Neil Armstrong’s resounding final utterance: “You may take my Tour de France titles, but you will never take my one remaining testicle!”

Anyway, my crush is Amanda Thomas. You know, that super spunky staff writer. I like how she never remembers my name, because it reminds me of my mother.

After last week’s Monday night meeting, I texted her “U miss me yet?” and she replied “lol.” In that moment, I knew we were just two lost souls on a sinking ship, caught for a moment between the fathomless blue of the ocean and the fathomless black of the sky.

I popped a Viagra and listened to the screams of the women and children in the distance, glad to have just a few more moments on this crazy little cruise we call life.

—W. Cramer

—J. Adam

Call us today!

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â&#x20AC;&#x201D;R. Chang

C el ebrat in

d r o c g the Life of the Yale Re 1872-2019

You are invited to the memorial service of the Yale Record.

We are excited to have Mr. Dustin Hoffman as our guest speaker. He will share a powerful story about loss. Next, we will break for lunch. Next, we will come back to Starbucks on Chapel, which is where the service is being held.

Everyone on the Record loved Starbucks. After we get back we will play a group activity like the north wind blows.

Then we will have fifteen minutes for people to cry if they need to. You are not allowed to bring a guest. â&#x20AC;&#x201D;J. Houston Design by Vivek Suri