The Therapy Issue

Vol. 150, No. 2

THE YALE

Oct. 28, 2021

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HELP! I CAN’T FIND MY LIGHTBULB AND WHENEVER I FART THE CRUNCHING SOUND GETS LOUDER!

Dear The World’s Largest Crab, I am unsure of your identity, but certainly, you must exist. You have the potential to be one of the world’s most notable crabs, yet you choose to lurk in the shadows. Why? Why keep your secret from the world?

Sincerely, A Fan

Dear YDN, You cannot make your frosh drink the ink of the Crimson to prove that they’re willing to vanquish their enemies at all costs. Please stop this.

Concerned, Marvin Chun Dear Marvin Chun, Drink the ink! Drink the ink!

Devotedly, The YDN frosh

IMPROVAGANZA UPDATE: OH, THEY’RE DEFINITELY IMPROVISING ALRIGHT!

THE FUTURE IS FEMALE! I THINK WOMEN SHOULD HAVE RIGHTS EVENTUALLY, JUST NOT RIGHT NOW Dear A Fan, My secret must remain known only to me. I am the last of my kind the world’s largest crab, and I swore upon all my ancestors that I would take our ways to the grave. You will never find us. Nobody ever has.

Nobody ever will.

Best, The World’s Largest Crab

SHIT! FUCK! I HAVE POSITIVELY BESTAINED MY THREADBARE NIGHTGOWN WITH WAX FROM MY BIG ASS CANDLE, AND NOW THE THREE CHRISTMAS GHOSTS WILL SEE MY WHATNOT AND MY HOWSIT! Dear The World’s Largest Crab, The jig is up.

Regards, The Mailman

HELP! I LOST MY DEODORANT AND EVERY TIME I FART MY ROOM SMELLS MORE LIKE AN EVERGREEN FOREST!

T he Y ale R ecord

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YALE RECORD The Therapy Issue October 28th, 2021

1 | Mailbags and Snews 6 | The Therapy Editorial 8 | Shorts 12 | Photo Spread The Record Remembers 16 | Shorts 20 | News Psychologist Caught Molding Patients’ Personalities • Oil Giant Unveils New Mental Disorder • Report: Normal People Don’t Do That • Local Therapist Too Hot To Be Relatable 22 | Shorts 23 | Feature Ask Old Owl!

Dear Dr. Dentist, Every time my son Thad returns from an appointment, he has more teeth than when he arrived. The situation has become so bad he can barely fit food beyond his hundreds of rows of sharp, sharp teeth. Please correct this!

Regards, A Concerned Father

GRAY AREA? I PAINTED MY ROOM GRAY AND NOW I FEEL MORALLY AMBIGUOUS ABOUT IT Dear Concerned Father, If you want your son’s teeth to stay the same, don’t send him to a dentist. I’m just doing my job.

Regards,

Dr. Dentist

LEO DOOR GUARD UNIMPRESSED

BY FIRST YEAR’S LIST OF HIGH SCHOOL CLUBS AND LEADERSHIP POSITIONS

“SHIT, SORRY, I WAS WATCHING PORN,” REPORTS STUDENT CLEARLY ZILLOWING ROOMMATES HOUSE Dear Brown Eyed Girl, Do you remember when, we used to sing?

Your love from the summer of ‘68, Joel

“INTERNET HACKERS MAY BE WATCHING YOU THROUGH YOUR PHONE CAMERA,” SAYS LONER EXCITEDLY FROM HIS DARK BEDROOM Dear Joel, I am very old and my memory is hazy. I do not remember when we used to sing, but I am glad to hear that I played a role in the tapestry of your life. I hope there is an afterlife.

Perhaps we will meet again there.

Sincerely, Brown Eyed Girl

Dear God,

24 | Feature Waiver and Release from Liability

My arm has been shot off by a cannon. War is hell.

30 | The Record After Dark Actionable Threats To Those In Power

Dear Josiah,

Please help, Josiah

I am rooting for the blue team.

Best, God

4D CHESS: I PRETENDED TO SHIT MYSELF AT BLUE STATE COFFEE SO PEOPLE WOULDN’T KNOW MY WHOLE SYSTEM’S BEEN BLOCKED UP FOR A WEEK AND A HALF

T he CTorporate A merica he T herapy I ssue I ssue Dear Harry Potter,

Dear Mark,

Have you ever made love to a muggle?

Sexily yours, Anna P.

I’m sorry, but this seems a little fishy. I am not your good friend - I am actor Andrew Garfield, who played your former friend and current nemesis in a film. Hope this helps!

Best, Andrew

DID STEVE BUSCEMI GET A FACE LIFT? EXPERTS SAY “NO.”

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LINGUISTICS MAJOR SURPRISINGLY BAD AT KISSING

Dear Anna P, Funnily enough, I only make love to muggles because wizards are physically unable to have oral sex. We can give, but we cannot receive. It is a blessing and a curse for generous lovers like myself.

Cheers, Harry Potter

WANNA FEEL OLD? IT’S ALREADY BEEN 10 YEARS SINCE THE ACCIDENT! PLEASE WAKE UP..

Obituary Correction In the First-Year Issue, we erroneously reported that Handsome Dan XIX narrowly escaped assassination. We now know that he got shot up real good, turned into red goo, totally pulped, atomized, doggie smoothie. We apologize for this error.

FOR SALE: A Rorschach blot, which, despite what you may think, does not look like your dad’s penis.

A PHRENOLOGIST’S GUIDE TO SKULL TYPES

Dear good friend, Hello I am Mark Zuckerberg, big facebook money man. I forgot password so I use second account.

Please send bit coin dollar bill. I return double.

Thanks, Mark Faceberg

SOMEONE’S IN HOT WATER! THIS GUY IS TAKING A BATH, HAHA. ALSO HE’S REALLY RACIST

—A. Shilov

yale’s oldest stand-up comedy outlet

interested in STAND-UP COMEDY? participate in THE CUCUMBER!

performers wanted. no experience necessary. seriously, no experience necessary. you don’t even need to know how to read! (although if you don’t, you won’t be reading this.) email cucumber@yalerecord.com

Torporate he T herapy I ssue I ssue T he C A merica Dear Xi Jinping,

Dear God,

Please send bitcoin dollar bill.

I am American money man Mark Faceberg.

Are you there, God? It’s me, Margaret.

Best, Margaret

Thanks, Mark Faceberg Dear Margaret,

MARIJUATNOW? I WAS SO HIGH, I THOUGHT I WAS LOSING MY HEARING! TURNS OUT, I WAS SO HIGH I FORGOT I’M HELEN KELLER

Remember that you are dust and unto dust you will return.

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Did You Know?

Therapists have two rows of teeth and an unhingeable jaw, and can weigh up to 900 pounds!

Regretfully, God

WANTED

心爱的 Mark Face Berg,

A

那不是那么社会饮用的。 习总统

smart therapist to tell my dumb therapist that I don’t need CBT to stop chasing mail trucks.

I know what I’m doing, and I’m at peace with it.

—M. Kuo

Emmy Waldman ‘11

W

elcome! Sit down. What type of insurance do you have? How does that make you feel?

This is how I assume therapists talk. I have never been to therapy, because I am mentally normal. When good things happen, I get happy. When bad things happen, I get sad. When I see a naked lady, my eyes turn into hearts and smoke comes out of my ears. I answer “not much” when people ask “what’s up” and “can’t complain” when they say “how’s life.” Every night, I dream of the horrors that lie at the bottom of the deep dark sea. I have the brain of your average American man.

Still, I recognize the value that therapy has in today’s day and age. Lord knows we have problems. The President of the United States is a reality TV star for crying out loud!

The headphone jack is gone for good, and it feels like every day there’s a new story in the Times about an easygoing party clown being coerced by the mechanisms of society into killing TV’s Robert DeNiro. In our darkest moments, therapists are there to help us claw our way back to normalcy. They scoop our fractured psyches out of our skulls and spit-shine them until they gleam like a South Sea pearl.

Don’t be fooled by what you see on TV; therapy comes in many different forms. To the wizened lumberjack, the trees are a sort of therapist. To the high-powered stock trader, it’s dollars and cents. To our Chair, Sam, it’s being stupid and dumb. Michael Richards’ “therapist” was a heckler at The Laugh Factory. Tony Soprano’s “therapist” was a therapist. We all find relief from our struggles in different ways. That’s a beautiful thing, friends.

Listen—nobody’s perfect. Even the Record editorial board has its share of problems.

Our copy editors, Adriana and Arnav, are the multiple personalities of Annie, our Art Director. Jonas is convinced that he’s Austrian even though he grew up in Bridgeport and has never left Connecticut. The menu app that Erik developed sometimes says that the Trumbull Dining Hall has pizza, which isn’t really a mental problem but it’s still not true.

And Big Four is not much better. Ayla insisted that my pilot script “My Life As A Normal Guy” was “a little long for a sitcom” even after I told her that streaming platforms are experimenting with non-traditional lengths. Sam is dumb and not smart. Diana is a figment of our collective imagination.

T he CTorporate A merica he T herapy I ssue I ssue Mentally normal as I am, I too face some challenges in my dayto-day life. Sometimes I take too much Benadryl and watch in horror as the shadow people come to steal my ears. Sometimes I imagine an anglerfish with human legs and have to take an hour swinging around on the monkey bars to calm down. Sometimes when I look in the mirror my reflection winks at me, even though I can’t wink without holding an eye open with my fingers.

These problems may be universal, but that doesn’t diminish how real they feel. Luckily, the actualized mind has wellness tools at its disposal. Try this exercise with me: Breathe in. Breathe out. Close your eyes. Imagine a babbling brook. Imagine that it’s babbling about the anti-capitalist messaging that undergirds Netflix’s Squid Game.

This reference is topical as I write this editorial, but by the time you read this it might not be. All that is new will one day be old, all that glitters will be subsumed by rust and mud.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Now imagine a goat on a hill. Its little horns gleam in the light of a dying star. The goat is your fear of the ocean. Look sternly at the goat. Tell him, “No more.” Punt him off the mountain into the roiling river below. Now open your eyes. What you just experienced was a form of therapy. Go to the beach. Go for a swim. You are cured.

See? That right there, that was a type of therapy, as long as you’re afraid of the ocean. If you aren’t, then I’ve got nothing for you. Sorry. Maybe you should adopt a whimsically streetwise orphan boy, or take up the baritone saxophone. Maybe you should try actual therapy. Maybe you could let me know how it goes. Maybe I would say that it sounds nice but that I don’t think it’s right for me. Maybe you’d say I don’t sound convincing, maybe I’d tell you to get lost, maybe you’d ask me why I wake up each morning looking haggard and afraid.

Maybe I’d evade the question, but maybe I’d be thinking about my dreams. 16,000 PSI of cold dark water beating ceaselessly Sam Leone ’23 Chair Jonas Kilga ’23 Online Managing Editor

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down on my head. I flail, scream soundlessly, kick clouds of invisible silt from the seafloor below and wonder how I am not dead, not compacted into a fleshy cube at the bottom of the sea to be gobbled up by the horrors that lurk just beyond my sight.

Darkness. Darkness. Then a light. I flail. I can’t feel my legs. My clumsy breaststroke saps my arms of their remaining strength as I drag my limp body towards the light. I see it now. Closer. Closer.

Behind it, something. I see teeth like needles. Baleful eyes, blind as sorrow. Below, stretching down, down to the silt below, two pale and muscular legs. Ten perfect toes. I scream soundlessly and the thing falls upon me, and I don’t wake up, and I can’t wake up, and that moment of terror is more than a moment, and it’s just me and the teeth and deep dark blackness and I can’t breathe. …

Well.

All this is to say that we all have our problems, and talking about them can help. That’s why I decided last month to scrap the long-awaited “Record Gives Our Two Cents On Yemen” Issue and replace it with The Therapy Issue. Read on, and you’ll find insights, diagnoses, medical news, quizzes, and a whole lot of healing. This is your one-stop shop for all your mental health needs.

Folks, let’s get better together. We wrote you 24 pages worth of content. If that’s not enough for you jackals, then frankly I don’t know what is.

—J. Wickline Editor in Chief

Joe Wickline ’23 Editor in Chief

Diana Kulmizev ’23 Online Editor in Chief

Ayla Jeddy ’23 Publisher

Avery Brown ’23 Online Managing Editor

Clio Rose ’23 Managing Editor

Joe Gustaferro ’24 Managing Editor

Joanna Wypasek ’24 Managing Editor

Adriana Golden ’24 Copy Editor

Arnav Tawakley ’24 Copy Editor

Annie Lin ’25 Art Director

Erik Boesen ’24 Webmaster

Addison Beer ’23 Staff Director

Aarjav Joshi ’24 Business Manager

Jacob Eldred ’24 Merch Manager

Zosia Caes ’22 Old Owl

Will Cramer ’22 Old Owl

Ethan Fogarty ’22 Old Owl

Zuri Goodman ’22 Old Owl

David Hou ’22 Old Owl

Avery Mitchell ’23 Old Owl

Raja Moreno ’22 Old Owl

Bea Portela ’22 Old Owl

Ellen Qian ’23 Old Owl

Harry Rubin ’22 Old Owl

Marcy Sanchez ’22 Old Owl

Maya Sanghvi ’22 Old Owl

Alex Taranto ’23 Old Owl

Kaylee Walsh ’22 Old Owl

Staff: Ronak Gandi ’22 Ryan Fuentes ’22 Alex Kane ’22 Sam Karp ’22 Kyle Mazer ’22 Jocelyn Wexler ’22

Juan Diego Casallas ’23 Raffael Davila ’23 Lucy del Alamo ’23 Shirshak Gautam ’23 Dory Johnson ’23 Leo Egger ’23

Zoe Larkin ’23 Charlotte Leakey ’23 Jacob Kaufman-Shalett ’23 Andrew Kornfeld ’23 Jason Salvant ’23 Lucy Santiago ’23 Katia Vanlandingham ’23

Helen Tejada ’23 Amrita Vetticaden ’23 Elijah Boles ’24 Malia Kuo ’24 Alexia Buchholz ’24 Evan Cheng ’24 Finn Gibson ’24

Benjamin Hollander-Bodie ’24 Aarjav Joshi ’24 Alice Mao ’24 Simi Olurin ’24 Will Gonzalez ’24 Cam Greene ’24

Chanwook Park ’24 David Peng ’24 Michael Steinthal ’24 Sarah Teng ’24 Miguel Von Fedak ’24 Lisbette Acosta ’24

Contributors: Sophie Spaner ’25, Tyler Schroder ’25, Tara Bhat ’25, Alejandro Mayagoitia ’25, Anasthasia Shilov ’23, Larry Dunn ’25 Special thanks to: Our live-in therapist, Dr. Keisha Aardvark, the first (and best) practitioner in the phone book.

Front Cover: Alice Mao ’24 (@alicemaoart), who has three times as many followers than us on Instagram.

Back Cover: Annie Lin ’25 (@anniemeter), whose brain actually looks like that, it’s a medical anomaly.

Founded September 11, 1872 • Vol. CL, No. 1, Published in New Haven, CT by The Yale Record, Inc. Box 204732, New Haven, CT 06520 • yalerecord.org • Subscriptions: $50/year All contents copyright 2021 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.

MEET MY LIFE COACH “Wake up, sissy!” a large, visored man yells as he splashes cold water on my bed. It’s 7 a.m., which means it’s time to start my day, and the man here to kick it off is my life coach, Coach. After having served as the Kent State football program’s special teams coordinator (and been disgraced for mysterious reasons), he now helps clients like me improve relationships, build confidence, and realize our full potential.

Coach has access to every part of my life, including my phone, bank account, and apartment, where he frequently sleeps and helps himself to my fridge. We start each day on the rope he installed in my kitchen. To “shape my character” and “make me a tougher man,”’ Coach hired twelve schoolchildren to make mean comments about my climbing ability while I go up. When I asked Coach why he incorporates physical fitness into his coaching, he explained, “You know what they say—happy body, happy life.”

“I think it’s ‘happy wife, happy life,’ since that rhymes and makes sense,” I replied.

He scowled. “Wife? You don’t want one of those. Trust me.”

One of the reasons I hired Coach was to help me professionally. On the day we met, he said, “Lawyer? My buddy’s kid is one of those. Weird guy.” Now he just updates me about the custody battle he’s in and continually asks me for legal advice about it. It’s this symbiotic relationship that really allows us both to thrive.

Coach is great at strategizing and re-strategizing to help me reach my career goals. Last month, I worked an extra hour on top of my 10-hour work day every day and still failed to get promoted. Coach said: “You’re not giving 110%.” When I explained that I literally was doing just that, he responded, “But you’re not playing to win, you’re playing

not to lose. And your wings aren’t filling the lanes to protect the punter.” When I asked how I can get my metaphorical wings to fill the metaphorical lanes, he said, “Just take it one play at a time.” I’ve been focusing on that recently.

Coach is also an expert when it comes to dating. Last week, I went on a first date. Coach called the shots from one table over and gave helpful advice, like, “Don’t order the spaghetti, that’s girl food,” or, “Ask her if she’s open to a threesome, just like we ran in practice.” If I hadn’t done it as we had ran in practice, he would’ve gotten angry and thrown his headset.

Unfortunately, I’m still single, yet I pay for two (Coach orders the surf and turf). But as Coach always says, I have to trust the process.

—J. Gustaferro THINGS TO TELL YOUR THERAPIST TO IMPRESS THEM That they are your 18th therapist That you’re verified on WebMD That they can sit on the couch this time around That you bought a slightly nicer version of their car That their time is up, and you charge by the hour That they can schedule a follow up appointment if they have any more questions That they try being vulnerable and letting their guard down That they should try going on Prozac That you can run a seven minute mile That you smoked a blunt with their twelve year-old son —Staff

The Therapy Issue

LADIES, BACK OFF It’s that special time of year again. The sun is out, my forearms and legs below the knee are uncovered, and lust is in the air.

But I won’t be entertaining any hunnies right now.

No, I’ve got my mind on some higher pleasures: academia.

That’s right, the only sheets I’ll be trifling in are Excel sheets full of data for MATH 241: Probability Theory. The only bodies I’ll be exploring will be in E&EB 251L: Laboratory for Biology of Terrestrial Arthropods. And the only party you’ll find me at is the Party of the Right, because the environment has had it too good for too long!

In his master-slave dialectic, Georg Wilhem Friedrich Hegel wrote that our existence is solely defined by our relationships to other humans. What a moron! He followed that doozy up by claiming “If you want to love you must serve, if you want freedom you must die.” Well, big guy, I don’t need love and I don’t need freedom. I just want a 3.7 GPA or higher to prove to my parents that I’m just as smart as my older brother, Brandon!

Descartes believed that to love was to give up one’s freedom to someone else. Well, French guy, I don’t need love and I don’t need freedom. I just want a 3.7 GPA or higher to prove to my parents that I’m just as smart as my older brother, Brandon!

Speaking of family, my mind races back to my first day of kindergarten. My mother dropped me off at my classroom, 2L with Mrs. DeWinter. I was crying. I was anxious then and still am today. “I don’t want to go,” I wailed as I dug my feet into the epoxied hallway floor. My mom wasn’t having it. Why couldn’t I be like my older brother? Brandon never made a ruckus like this. “Son,” my mama said sternly, “you will go in there and you will enjoy it.” “I will?” I asked. I was such a pushover back then. “You will make new friends and you will learn a lot.” For the first time that day, I smiled, but she wasn’t done. “And remember, fulfill your mind in the Fall, sleep around in the Spring.” Since that fateful September morning, I have carried those words in my heart.

Would Marie Curie have invented every element in the table elements if she’d gotten frisky with Albert Einstein instead of traversing the globe in search of Tungsten? Would Barack Obama have become president if he’d met Michelle before commencing his term in the White House? Would Joseph Campbell have blurred the lines between important scholarship and anti-Semitism if he’d found a lover with a thousand faces (if you know what I mean!)? No, no, and perhaps. So why should I, an academic powerhouse, anchor myself down with such base pleasures? If I am able to remain chaste, I too could invent the table of elements, become

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president, and imply dubious things about certain groups of people!

So, one last time, I’m asking all the ladies, fellas, and that one cute TF from my Computer Science to just wait one semester. My spring will be full of Sex, Markets, and Power, and I’m not talking about Global 353.

—W. Cramer BUDGET ALTERNATIVES TO THERAPY Drink water Count to ten Become a therapist Talk to Siri Microwave foil Post on Quora Take it out on your significant other Just don’t think about it Pick six friends, each with a specific skill set, to rob a bank with Go to Italy and eat the best pizza, work in an ashram in India, and fall in love in Bali Talk with a friend Steal your neighbor’s dog and then “find” it for the hero treatment Alcoholism —Staff

The Yale Record

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BIRD THERAPY “How has your week been?”

“Things have been all right. The kids are starting to leave the nest, so my wife and I will have some alone time.”

“I’m glad to hear it. How have you been managing with the changing of the seasons? I know that was causing a lot of stress.”

“It’s been okay. I’ve spent a lot of time stocking up for the cold. Nuts, berries. That kind of stuff. I try to get up early to get to the new berries before my neighbor Dave. He never leaves anything for anyone else.”

“How does that make you feel?”

“Inferior, I suppose. I can’t properly provide for my family.”

“Is there anything else?”

“I don’t know, it just feels like it makes me... less of a man, I guess.”

“How so?”

“It’s just like... my whole life, I’ve tried to live up to everyone’s expectations. There’s so much pressure, you know? I mean, no one ever really talks about it, but it can be hard to be a bird. Does that... does that make any sense?”

“I understand completely. But remember, you’ve raised a beautiful family. You have nothing to worry about—I assure you, no one is judging you or questioning your stature as a male in the community. You’ve got a lot going for you.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. And I don’t like to bring this up often, but I do have the biggest bird dick.”

“And you have the biggest bird dick.”

a screw loose, I know it. Or maybe it’s bigger than that.”

“A bed?”

“A bed! No it’s not a bed, but that does bring me to another problem.”

“Is this also with regards to assembly issues, sir?”

“No, no. These are objects. The last guy I talked too wouldn’t take them seriously, but I whenever I pick up a mug, I worry the handle is going to fall off, and I’m going to spill my coffee all over myself. Not like in an embarrassing dick-shaped stain, but still, I’ll be embarrassed, and I’m just paralyzed by the fear.”

“The mugs feel… structurally unsound?”

“No, they feel fine when they’re empty. But as soon as I pour the coffee in them, the weight looks immense. I look at the surface, and I see under the reflection an infinite space, as though light can get trapped in there for hours. It’s like I’m looking into an infinitely large room and it’s full of coffee and it weighs so much.”

“Sir, I can’t help you if the mug feels solid and looks solid.”

“That’s what the last guy told me.”

“That’s all I can do.”

“Why can you only help me when things are broken!”

“I’m an IKEA sales representative, sir. That is my job.” “...”

“If it’s not a bed, could it be an armoire?”

“Oh yeah, I think it was a vikedal.”

—J. Eldred

—S. Spaner RETAIL THERAPY “You ever feel like your life is falling apart? Like something’s loose and if you sit down too fast the chair will just disappear out from under you?”

“Is there a chair you need help assembling?”

“No, no, I don’t think that’s quite it. It’s not a chair.”

“A shelf?”

“No, no. It’s something bigger.”

“A dining room table?”

“No, it’s not that. You know, I have dreams where the people don’t have faces. Where I go to work and my legs are made of felt and any time anyone gets near me, I know that I’m going to shock them. I want to look away, but I have to meet their eyes.

I have to nod my head and curl the right side of my mouth and say hello, how’s your morning, and as soon as I’ve nodded I’m too close. There’s, there’s this big flash, and the boom comes three seconds later like lightning across a river, but they’re gone.

Gone as soon as I’ve said hello. Those are my dreams—I’ve got

—J. Wickline

The Therapy Issue

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IMAGINE HOW THE JOKER WOULD HAVE TURNED OUT IF HONDA HAD GIVEN HIM A FREE 2020 ACCORD

HOW TO TANK YOUR MENTAL HEALTH FOR ATTENTION

The critically-acclaimed film The Joker chronicles Arthur Fleck’s struggle with mental health and ultimate demise in a cruel, emotionally torturous society. Following the release of this movie, discourse regarding mental health was at the forefront. Since then, however, there has been next to no discussion regarding alternate plot lines that include a certain, special car starting at a small sum of $24,270.

Now, you may be wondering: what if? What if Arthur was able to ignore the insufferable strains of public life by just avoiding it all together? What if, oh I don’t know, Honda CEO, Toshihiro Mibe, were to have just passed Arthur on the road, turned to him, and said, “Hey man!

I like your hearty laugh and clown makeup! Here are the keys to a new 2020 Honda Accord that gets up to 30 miles per gallon, courtesy of your local Gotham Honda dealership!”

What then? Maybe Arthur wouldn’t have been ridiculed by teenagers and beaten with his own sign since they would all be in awe of his new car. Maybe he wouldn’t have become a murderer on national television since Honda owners are not murderers, but lovers. Or maybe he could have laughed freely in his new car with the windows open, his hair down, and Taylor Swift turned up to the max while delivering DoorDash orders. Who really knows?

But if there is anything I am sure of, it is this: if Arthur Fleck had been gifted a sweet new ride with an engine reaching up to 252 horsepower, he could have led a normal life. Now you might say, “Giving him a car would ruin the movie. It is supposed to focus on his descent into madness, not his return from it.” And to that I must say: shame on you! Why wouldn’t you want to see a happy movie about a man down in the dumps turning his hellish life around by flexing on all who ridiculed him with his new 2020 Honda Accord?

Instead of buying into the sadistic tendencies of modern media and craving the sight of humans hitting rock bottom, watch something that radiates sanity and calm for once. I recommend my favorite movie, Grown Ups.

By K. Walsh

—J. Wypasek

1. Come up with a really dumb invention. Like really dumb. I’m talking “a onesie with a built-in gun holster” dumb.

2. Audition for Shark Tank with this invention.

You will be rejected, but you’re not taking no for an answer. This is only the beginning.

3. Start tweeting relentlessly to the entire cast of Shark Tank. If you get blocked by the main cast, don’t lose faith. Reach out to one of the show’s many celebrity guest stars, who might be able to get you in. (Side note: did you know that Ashton Kutcher was a guest on Shark Tank one time? A true Renaissance man!)

4. Once you are blocked by everyone who has ever appeared on Shark Tank on every social media platform, including Ashton, build your online presence as the guy who went absolutely bonkers just to get on Shark Tank. Make a five-part storytime on TikTok about the many months you put into this passion project at the expense of your sanity. Start selling merch that says, “Babies should have guns so they can kill Kevin O’Leary” and then have a public breakdown when you don’t sell anything. And of course, for guaranteed Internet fame, be sure to tweet, “Man! All this time trying to get the sharks’ attention really TANKED my mental health!”

5. Now that you’ve gone viral several times, don’t let anyone forget your name. Write an oped titled, “What My Failed Shark Tank Journey Taught Me About Life, Love, and Loss” so people think there was a deeper meaning to all of it. Or maybe move into a house with fellow content creators who were rejected from reality television shows and make videos together. Regardless, just try to keep the spotlight on yourself, no matter how many people you have to threaten and/or harm.

People may not like you, and you may not like yourself, but that was never the goal. Who needs a sense of love and fulfillment, when you can have the world’s attention and a restraining order from Mr. Wonderful?

The Record Remembers I

n 1899, behaviorist Emerson P. Brain hypnotized a dozen chimpanzees into thinking that they were bonobos. In 1923, a marauding pack of psychologists convinced a Chicago oil painter that he was a bloodthirsty Austrian fascist. Just last week, we at the Record tested the bystander effect on Cross Campus by shouting “You will never be creative!” at a baby for two hours… and nobody said a word.

What do these seemingly disparate events have in common? They are all examples of profoundly unethical experiments conducted in the name of knowledge. Scientific progress has never come easily, and our modern understanding of psychology is built on a foundation that we often try to forget. From the Luxembourg “goon riots” of 1995 to Sigmund Freud’s infamous “mommy maze,” the history of the study of the mind is rife with ghoulish experimentation and blatant inhumanity.

In this edition of The Record Remembers, we’re shining a light on the most impactful psychological experiments in history, warts and all. It’s time to think about thinking, and to think about what thinking about thinking has historically made us think.

Reader, come think with us.

Austria, 1824 A 19th century phrenologist induces the optimal skull shape by clubbing himself in the head repeatedly with a hammer.

Chicago, 1919 The first polygraph test involved pinning a woman down until she told the truth.

Belfast, 1923 The “Bobo” experiment left fifty-three Catholic New York City, 1952 Psychologist couple Michelle youths in a room with clown dummy “Bobo the Protestant.” Results and Miguel Richards ask their newborn infant thousands of questions to determine if innate knowledge exists. were unilaterally consistent.

Austria, 1923 “Tiny Man Therapy is about to begin” says test administrator from atop transistor radio.

Yale University, 1935 Behaviorist B.F. Skinner conditioned his rats to work a simple machine; every time they pushed a button, a pulley would lower a handsome rat into the box to congratulate them. The handsome rat was trained to do this in a similar machine.

Stanford University, 1971 An EEG scan revealed that this ventriloquist dummy has imposter syndrome.

Paris, 1896 In an immersive experiment in which he posed as a substitute teacher, French psychologist Marcel Vladivostock, 1929 Ivan Pavlov tearfully proves his theory of SapioDupont proved conclusively that children can be very cruel. Animal-Romanticism as he euthanizes his goat lover.

Yale University, 1963 In Linsly-Chittenden Hall, Stanley Milgram Belfast, 1923 The “Bobo” experiment grew drastically administered electric shocks to one hundred patients, and discovered that more violent when the youths were told that Bobo wanted nine out of ten of the subjects’ pained cries aroused him sexually. to raise the drinking age to 14.

Wales, 922 In what is widely regarded as the firstever psychological experiment, Arwin the Curious Dublin, 1941 Ape psychologist Bertrand O’Shea discovers that gorillas discovers that driving a brass bolt into a serf’s brain makes them docile. suck at basketball.

Chicago, 1955 Animal behaviorist Harry Harlow proves that a group Levittown, 1936 A psychologist determines that this of baby monkeys separated from their mothers will imprint better on a horny woman’s heart palpitations are simply a byproduct of her cloth robot than a broken shower caddy from Sears. silly little fancies.

Philadelphia, 1947 Neurologist Evander Wall discovers that playing heist music near your belly while Virginia, 1966 The CIA sinks 9 billion dollars into investigating whether Russian pregnant will turn your baby into a klepto. teenager Olgy Bazatlovska can do mind magic.

Stanford University, 1971 In the famously unethical Stanford Prison Experiment, volunteers were divided randomly into three categories: “prisoners,” Austria, 1918 Freud decisively proves his Oedipus “guards,” and “uggos.” theory by marrying his own mother.

Oxford, 1946 An early psychoanalytical test: If you see a vase, you’re an extrovert. If you see two pigeons, you’re clinically depressed.

Poland, 1968 Groundbreaking work in the field of car psychology determines that most car crashes occur between cars that know each other.

Philadelphia, 1976 Dumbass kids line up to be psychologically ruined for a candy bar

Missouri, 1962 After the success of Harlow’s 1959 experiment, the principle was tested again on a cohort of Yale University, 1935 The Yale Precision Marching Band accidentally fifty eleven-year-old boys, all but three of whom became reveals their subconscious desires in the largest Freudian slip fully convinced that a scarecrow was their mother. in history.

—Staff

16

The Yale Record I’M AN ENGLISH TEACHER. I SAVE LIVES.

At 1:45, the bell rings. In a crazed rush, all my students pour out the door. They have football practice, girlfriends and boyfriends they want to see, robotics club—truly, the world is their oyster. I get it, I was young once.

Yet one student stays seated. Young Jonah is one of my best writers.

I asked him, “why are you still here?”

“Where else is there to go?”

He explains that he’s a total failure, that he isn’t welcome anywhere, not that there’s any place he’d like to be anyway.

Instantly, I recognized his serious depression and need for a trusted adult and mentor. It’s a shame not everyone has someone like Robin Williams in Dead Poets Society, but luckily Jonah does. And it’s me. I’m his Robin Williams. I handed him The Catcher in the Rye, the tale of a young man who really knows how to show himself a good time. What better a source of inspiration could there be? I gave Jonah my personal copy, a pat on the back, and sent him on his (surely merry) way.

Truly, there is no problem literature cannot solve. Doctors prescribe just the right medication, and I prescribe books. And as a teacher—one of America’s heroes—I’m always on call.

When Susan’s mother died, she took it hard. And as cliche as it sounds, her loss hurt me even more than it hurt her, so I knew I had to do something. As I Lay Dying is a tale of ultimate sacrifice, but more importantly, redemption.

Faulkner comforts us with the knowledge that when one door closes, another one opens. Sure, you lost a beloved relative, but when you think about it, she was just a fish. I gave young Susan my personal copy and sent her out into the world.

Tomaso, the captain of the football team, drove drunk into a tree. He was fine, but his quarterback, who was in the passenger seat, died instantly in the crash. Tomaso felt that it was his fault and quit football forever, feeling totally crippled by guilt. I know he wouldn’t want to talk to his lame English teacher, but maybe, just maybe, he’d talk to the page. I gave him my personal copy of Crime and Punishment and sent him out the door.

And the list goes on—hate your job? Death of a Salesman. Fear of grapes? Grapes of Wrath! Not sure whether to catch 21 or 22 baseballs at practice? Catch 22. Can’t think of a very hot temperature? Fahrenheit 451. Want to read the Bible? The Bible! Want to eventually read the Bible, but start with something small? Lord of the Flies. I am the House M.D. of diagnosing emotions. I’m an English teacher. I save lives.

—S. Leone

EIGHT THINGS YOU’LL SEE IF YOU STICK AN ELECTRIFIED NEEDLE IN YOUR HIPPOCAMPUS Every color you’ve ever seen before plus a whole bunch of new colors that defy comprehension, followed by pure darkness.

When and where you will meet your inevitable demise, that sweet release of death and separation from this mortal coil.

God’s private Snapchat story. Huh, that’s a lot of brunch pics.

The exact corner of the Chuck E. Cheese where you forgot your turquoise retainer from 7th grade. You know the one you got in trouble for losing because “retainers don’t grow on trees and orthodontia isn’t covered by the new family insurance plan”.

The inside of a loud van with lots of bright lights and worried dudes in scruffy uniforms.

God’s grocery shopping list. Apparently he’s a Trader Joe’s kinda deity.

An old-school movie set with a lunar lander on a sea of gray sand. President John F. Kennedy sits in the director’s chair..

A bunch of beeping machines and dudes in green messing around with some sharp looking shiny stuff just above your field of view. Wow, our brains come up with the craziest things!

—A. Beer PSYCHOANALYTICAL TEST: CONNECT THE DOTS TO FIND OUT YOUR DEEPEST DESIRES

—A. Shilov

The Therapy Issue

FREE THERAPY, FREE LIFE (SPONSORED BY JUICE PLUS) If you’ve reached the point in your life where you have realized that therapy might be helpful to you, you might have also realized that therapy can be pricey! It can be difficult to rationalize the cost of your mental well-being when you’re also just trying to keep a roof over your head. What they don’t tell you is that there’s an easy way to make therapy affordable, while simultaneously improving your self-worth and sense of belonging in the minefield that is today’s economic landscape.

It starts simply: 50 bottles of health supplements, all for you.

Here at Juice Plus, you control your personal inventory, and you may distribute these however you like, all while being in charge of your own schedule, inventory, and profits. Essentially, you are your own boss, and can finally have the perfect work/life balance that you’ve been trying so hard to achieve.

On our team, we have licensed therapists who also work as marketing consultants and can help you with any of your needs.

We use a variety of tried-and-true therapeutic methods, including Person-Centered Rogerian Therapy, Motivational Interviewing, and a type of hypnotherapy that our professionals have developed themselves. We want you to see the you that we see.

In addition to these resources, you are also allotted your own health supplements, free of charge—as many as you feel you need. 9 out of 10 sales representatives who work with us claim that they notice positive effects almost immediately, including: - Higher energy levels - Boosted mood - Increased motivation - Tingling - Brain wiggles - Rapid fluctuations in temperature - Lesions - Night shakes - Increased caution around bats and other nocturnal animals - Ability to function on little to no sleep - Ability to derive energy from consuming inedible products, including glass, paper, and plastic - Higher sensitivity to fear These effects can only be achieved using our full plan, including health supplements, company-mandated group therapy, and weekly hypnotherapy sessions with one of our esteemed psychiatric experts. And you make money every step of the way!

The world may not always be kind, but we promise you that we will always be there for you. Juice Plus is a family, and we will hold your hand through everything that life has to offer.

(Unless you fall behind in your sales, in which case we will send a team of muscular therapists to break your legs while shouting “how does this make you feel?”)

—S. Spaner

17

OUR COMMITMENT TO MENTAL HEALTH Dear Yale Students, It has recently come to our attention that many of you are dealing with mental health struggles stemming from Yale’s stressfully high workload. On behalf of myself and the Yale administration, we’d like you to know that we hear you and we are here for you, but we also think you are all little bitches. Seriously, “Wittle baby can’t handle a wittle p-set?” Fuck off. This ain’t kindergarten.

In response to your whining, we have decided to defund all mental health resources on campus, to teach you all how to man the fuck up. Sorry, I’ve been advised to not use “gendered language”—in other words, they’ll teach you how to stop all this pussy shit. Additionally, the residential colleges will host brandnew seminars including but not limited to: Bottling Up Feelings for Dummies, Introduction to Taking Out Repressed Emotions on Your Peers, and Mindful Baking 101.

Funds previously allotted toward mental health resources will now be used to cut shopping period. If you’re confused about how that works, trust me, I’m a neuroscientist. Also, all salt used in dining halls will be replaced with crushed Prozac.

Best wishes for the weekend and the week ahead!

Love, Marvin Chun Dean of Yale College “Bad Bitches Float, Dumb Ones Drown” —A. Mayagoitia

—M. Kuo

18

The Yale Record

17TH CENTURY WELLNESS HACKS Life was so much simpler in a time before the burdens of modern medicine and indoor plumbing. When I’m feeling low, I always harken back to the yester-centuries and try to ground myself in the days of old. Let’s take a trip down memory lane and see how our ancestors got it right when it came to dealing with their mental health.

Take a Yearly Bath — The cleansing of the skin is akin to the cleansing of the mind, my friends. An annual dip in the river (which is conveniently also the village’s water supply) will make you feel born again. The key is to first build up your grime for an entire calendar year. You’ll smell like a horse’s ass—then, after your soak, you’ll emerge so clean that you’ll feel as though all the weight on your shoulders has been lifted. It’s even more soothing because no one knows what dysentery is yet!

Go on the Peasant Diet — With this simple trick, I can assure you that you’ll never give a second thought to how depressed you are. In fact, you won’t even be able to hear yourself think over the sound of your stomach simply begging for another leaf of boiled cabbage. The only thing on your mind will be securing some moldy bread, and your only worry is who you might have to kill to get it. Soon you won’t be thinking about your other problems at all! Not when there’s gruel on the line. Not to mention how much of a skinny legend you’ll be!

Be a Woman — How are you going to be depressed or anxious when you’re not even allowed to have thoughts? Who’s to say you’re even capable of such manly activities? Enough said.

Burn Witches — That could be you up there on that stake, but it’s not! Really puts things into perspective doesn’t it? Practice gratitude my friends, otherwise, people may start to talk…

Keep in Mind That it’s Only Temporary — Know that whatever you may be feeling, you won’t be feeling for long. Whether it be another round of the plague, a swift kick to the head by a horse, or your monarch going through a mortal-combatfor-amusement phase, remember that death is just around the corner. Hopefully you paid for some indulgences, otherwise, the suffering might only get worse from here.

—S. Olurin

WAYS TO RANK YOUR THERAPISTS THAT REALLY SAY “YOU NEED MORE THERAPY” Hotness — Like hey, keep it professional! It would be wildly unethical of a doctor to go out with a patient, let alone one who clearly needs more therapy. And frankly, your fixation on your therapists’ breasts is suggestive of some mommy issues.

The snacks they keep in their little jar — While fudge stripes and chex mix are great for the lobby, what really matters is what happens during your session. And to be real with you, your insistence on deflecting from your much needed psychiatric help just goes to show—you need more therapy.

Degree Font — There is no scientific evidence that universities which give diplomas in Baskerville Old Face are more reputable than their sans-serif counterparts. That was one study, and it was debunked! The next psychiatrist you ghost over a “criminal use of Fraktur” may just be your last.

Sofa arm style — For the last time, these things don’t matter!

Whether you rest the one arm which isn’t amputated on a Ruched, a Paris Club, or a Modern Scroll will have absolutely zero effect on how you cope with your schizophrenia.

What, you see things? Well see this, jerk. In 10 years, you’re homeless on the streets because you can’t get the medications you desperately need because you’ve been blacklisted by every therapist on the East Coast! I don’t care if you watched your whole troop get ambushed from the comfort of an English Box Cushion. You need more therapy!!!

Catchphrase quality — Actually, I’ll give you this one.

—S. Leone

—J. Wickline

The Therapy Issue

HELPING HAND IS HERE TO HELP Life these days is harder than ever, and more and more Americans report feeling lost or isolated in their daily lives.

If this sounds like you: there is hope. Helping Hand is here to help.

Entering your credit card information on our website gives you access to Helping Hand’s hundreds of carefully selected and highly qualified psychologists. Our staff are trained to help you feel comfortable talking about a wide variety of sensitive subjects. Talk to them about your childhood traumas, the street and town you grew up in, and even the name of your first pet.

Your sessions with Helping Hand are completely confidential, so you can feel safe telling Terry—I mean your personally selected therapist—about your relationship with your mother and what her maiden name means to you. If you’re stressed or depressed about money, your Helping Hand therapist can use relevant information about your social security status, income, and retirement funds to help you make better decisions that can relieve your psychological burdens.

At Helping Hand we understand that getting help can be difficult, and we are here to ensure that you are getting the help you feel you need. If you don’t connect with the first therapist you are matched with, you don’t need to worry: Terry has been taking Zoom improv classes and can do four different voices now—including a sick Jimmy Fallon impression!

Helping Hand is here to help. Get help today with Helping Hand.

19

Metaphobia: Fear of phobias Wabbitophobia: Fear of getting tricked by Bugs Bunny disguised as a beautiful lady rabbit Kafkaphobia: Fear of becoming a cockroach Homophobia: Fear of the early hominid Homo Erectus Blankophobia: Fear of unnecessary white space

Normalphobia: Fear of scary things Minestronephobia: Fear of drowning in soup Editoriphobia: Fear of an anglerfish with human legs Agoraphobia: Fear of Ancient Greek marketplaces Roosephobia: Fear of fear itself —Staff

—A. Jeddy THE RECORD GUIDE TO PHOBIAS Ovaphobia: Fear of being compared to an egg Matrispinaphobia: Fear of stepping on the crack and breaking your mother’s back Arachnophobia: Fear of the great responsibility that comes with being bitten by a spider Nullprenupaphobia: Fear of your ex-wife taking half of your fortune Camotunicaphobia: Fear of that one shadow in your room that looks like a ferocious demon but is actually just your jacket Sociobetaphobia: Fear of walking past a group of middle school girls in the mall Erectodysfunctophobia: Fear of knowing I’ll never be enough for you (Mindy, please take me back)

—A. Brown

NEW HAVEN, CONNECTICUT • THURSDAY, OCTOBER 28, 2021 • VOL. LXVIII, NO. 2 • yaledailynews.biz

Psychologist Caught Molding Patients’ Personalities To Resemble His Ex-Wife

BY ADRIANA GOLDEN STAFF REPORTER NEW HAVEN, CT— Last Thursday, the Connecticut State Board of Psychology revoked the license of clinical psychologist Dr. Carl Jenkins after discovering that he had been attempting to warp his patients’ personalities and appearances into those of his ex-wife Bertha.

“Okay, okay, guilty as charged,” confessed Dr. Jenkins in an exclusive interview. “Sure, I encouraged my patients to get Botox, and as a doctor, I offered to administer it to them myself. Hell yeah, I told them to use BlackBerries and switch to Cricket Wireless. You bet your

sweet ass I told them to call me a pig to my face.”

The first indication of Dr. Jenkins’ misconduct was a 43% increase in membership at the local bridge club. Suspicions mounted after authorities noted a significant uptick in elaborately-patterned dress purchases throughout the city.

In its official statement on this scandal, the State Board declared: “Manipulating one’s patients is a clear ethical violation. The practice of psychology is supposed to relieve the patients’ stress, whereas Dr. Jenkins’ patients reported worsened anxiety as a result of their prescribed chunky jewelry and mandated rudeness to waiters.”

In the wake of these disturbing revelations, Dr. Jenkins’ six patients meet one another for the first time.

However, a disgraced Dr. Jenkins continues to defend his actions. “I just really miss my ex-wife,” he maintained. “We had unbelievable sex. Both times were so good that I can hardly pick a favorite.”

Bertha, Dr. Jenkin’s ex-wife, was unavailable for comment. “I am unavailable for comment,” she stated, her voice crackling due to her spotty Cricket Wireless coverage, “I will not be making any comments. Not even one.”

Dr. Jenkins prematurely ended this interview by drawing a Swiss army knife on our reporter when she declined to bedazzle her hat.

Oil Giant Unveils New Mental Disorder

BY TARA BHAT STAFF REPORTER

BP, the oil and gas giant dedicated to “reimagining energy for people and our planet,” just launched its very own mental disorder on Thursday. They call this disorder “eco-anxiety.”

“Eco-anxiety is made

by Big Oil, for everyone else,” reports BP spokesperson Lernard Booney, who defined the disorder as “a persistent concern about the future of Earth.”

BP workshopped multiple names for the disorder, including climate change

distress, ecological angst, and eco-freako stress disorder (EFSD), but after hours of intense discussion, the board of directors decided “eco-anxiety” was their catchiest title.

So what’s the inspiration behind eco-anxiety?

Booney explains that ecoanxiety is “meant to propel humanity to seek out solutions for climate change.”

Most will experience the disorder as an “extreme sense of hopelessness, existential dread, and a strong affinity towards the Muppets song, ‘It Ain’t Easy Being Green.’” Unlike most basic mental dis-

orders, eco-anxiety can’t be alleviated with therapy or Prozac. Instead, it requires people to take action now.

Booney listed several exciting features of ecoanxiety, including carpooling, biking, or even walking to one of BP’s seven thousand gas stations to fill up. If you feel particularly anxious about the future of the planet’s freshwater sources, try a metal straw when buying coffee at BP’s Wild Bean Cafe and use the tag #ecoanxietyxbp on Instagram.

While some sufferers of eco-anxiety have

felt animosity towards the oil industry and BP itself, Booney insists that this is just an unfortunate side effect: “Eco-anxiety is about hopelessness and personal choices. It’s not about pointing fingers.

While we technically did create the disorder, I don’t think it’s fair to hold BP responsible for it.”

Premium users of eco-anxiety will also be able to download BP’s new app for integrated single click donations, and will have access to the sale of a limited number of BP gas fueled hydro-vacuums which can lower sea levels

by sucking up ocean water.

He added that eventually, eco-anxiety will be rolled out to everyone, but marketing campaigns will initially focus on indigenous communities and socioeconomically disadvantaged areas.

With this new drop, BP hopes to make a long term impact, or footprint, on the Earth. But that’s not all; according to company officials, “things are just heating up.”

NEWS

“Samson, you damnable wretch! Fetch the staple remover! Argh, haste! The pain is so great. Do not test me, boy. Why, you’re as wily as a Spaniard!”

THEODORE ROOSEVELT ROUGH RIDER

Local Therapist Way Too Hot To Be Relatable

BY TARA BHAT STAFF REPORTER NEW HAVEN, CT— Local woman Beth Bathory shared with reporters Tuesday that her therapist, Dr. Catherine Stewart, is way too hot to be relatable.

Our investigation discovered that Dr. Stewart is a 28-year-old psychologist with a tight waist, perfectly symmetrical face, and elephantine ass.

“Her legs are far too shapely to understand the most basic difficulties of my mild depression,” Bathory said. “It’s hard to open up to someone with a complexion as crystal clear as the several rejections I’ve received from both men and veterinary schools in my past.”

Bathory added that when she did, in fact, talk candidly with Dr. Stewart, the therapist always responded with unempathetic and even ignorant advice.

“I told her about my fantasies of choking my last boyfriend until I felt his cold, lifeless hands stop clawing at his neck,” Bathory said. “In response, she told me that ‘there are plenty of fish in the sea.’ Well, yeah, Dr. High Cheekbones, I’m sure that there are plenty of fish in the sea when you look like the lovechild of Gigi Hadid and Jennifer Aniston.”

Other patients have expressed similar worries; local mailwoman Meg Stronk insists that Dr. Stewart just doesn’t “get” her: “When I

told her about how I panic when talking to groups of people, she looked me up and down and said to ‘smile more, people always pay attention to me when I do.’” Another patient, Carla Ruiz, said that when she confided in Dr. Stewart about her binge-eating, the therapist said, “Just go for it. I literally eat whatever I want, and I still look the same.”

Some of Dr. Stewart’s patients plan on going to a different local therapist, Marjorie Pavin, who is purportedly much uglier.

Pavin has a stooped, non threatening stature, dull, mud-colored eyes, and is much more down to earth.

Pavin reports she’s “slightly insulted, but hapDr. Catherine Stewart M.D. casually reads a book, effortlessly glamorous. py about the business.”

Report: Normal People Don’t Do That

BY KAYLEE WALSH STAFF REPORTER NEW HAVEN, CT— A recent study from Yale’s department of Clinical Psychology has found that normal people don’t do that fucked up thing you do.

“While many people are concerned that their compulsive thoughts and behaviors are abnormal, most of the time they are not alone in their struggle,” explained Dr. Heidi

Green, the principal investigator of the study. “You, however, are an exception.

You are crazy and should always feel weird about whatever you’re doing.”

The study, which lasted over six months, involved a number of local volunteers who completed a series of interviews and questionnaires about their everyday actions. Although participants were concerned that behaviors like nail biting and talking to themselves were out

Cross Campus STANDUP TRAGEDY

“What’s the deal with all these medications?” riffed a haggard Jerry Seinfeld this week from his new home at the Bridgeport Clinic for the Insane. “You know they’re no good, because they force feed them to you. When has anybody ever force fed something good? ‘Mr. Seinfeld, I’ve got a wonderful slice of chocolate cake here for you. Now hold still while I pry your jaw open.’”

MORE ON PAGE 3

Pictured: A regular guy who would never even consider doing the type of sick stuff you do.

of the ordinary, the study found that 99.9% of the reported actions were reported by multiple participants.

“I was really relieved to learn that all the things I’ve been doing, like grinding my teeth and threatening to kill my mom when she doesn’t buy the right flavor of Goldfish are totally normal!” remarked Scott Lisbon, one of the study’s participants. “But, man, I’d hate to be that one loser who does all that

Inside The News TMZ spotted Vin Diesel this week sporting a new look in the wake of a well-publicized psychotic breakdown: the prolific actor is now completely bald. Longtime supporters say the loss of Diesel’s trademark locks is a huge blow. “Good luck finding work as some bald guy,” scoffed one fan.

“Vin’s mane was his moneymaker.

There’s not a director alive who would hire him now.”

Pages 6-7

HEALTH

“And how does that make you feel?” hisses therapist beating patient over the head with a giant hammer.

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weird stuff. What a freak!”

Following the release of this study, Dr. Green and her team are looking to continue studying you to figure out why you’re not quite like the rest of us.

“We can’t put our finger on it yet, but there’s definitely something off about you in particular,” she stated. “Ah, whatever, don’t lose any sleep over it! It’ll come to us eventually!”

CULTURE

LIFESTYLE

YDN EXCLUSIVE SCOOP: The “Joker” Thinks That “Crime” Is “Funny”

Top Ten Yoga Positions To Stave Off The Crippling Ennui Of A Dying Empire

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22

The Yale Record

FIVE-TIME THERAPY CHAMPION My dad raised me to be a winner. When I was a child, he would say fatherly things like, “I refuse to be the father of a loser,” and, “No son of mine will ever be a beta male.”

I’ve spent years of my life overcoming the manliest feats and coming out on top. Being first in a Tough Mudder race?

Not a problem. Being first pick in the northeastern division of Minor League Baseball? Been there, done that. I always finish first—just how my dad taught me.

But I’m not going to just list my limitless physical triumphs; I’m also here to boast about my emotional accomplishments. Folks, I am a five-time therapy champion.

Oh, you consistently go to therapy once a week and have a strong relationship with your therapist? Try going to five different therapists and having all of them tell you, “Wow, this is the shortest time I’ve ever interacted with a patient.”

You hear that? Shortest time ever. Dad would be proud of that.

This takes a lot of practice and dedication, so don’t be disappointed if you fail on your first try. First and foremost: make a good first impression with your therapist. Dad always told me that if I make a bad first impression, everyone will

remember that, make fun of me, and call me a little bitch boy.

Walk in there with confidence and a smile, and don’t forget a firm handshake. Then, talk about your life without exposing emotion. Dad taught me that only the two ‘W’s’ are allowed to express emotion: weenies and women. Lastly, terminate the discussion and allow the therapist to tell you about what they think about your life, which should only be good things if you properly followed steps one and two. When you get really good at this like me, this will only take you one half-hour session.

Now, I must give a shout out to the man, himself. When I told him a year ago that I was going to start training to go to therapy, he told me, “What are you, a wimp? You are a man, not a Frenchwoman.” I wasn’t going to let my dad down by being the wimpish son he despises. So I emotionally trained for months until I finally got my first championship in therapy. Without his impactful words, I wouldn’t be able to call myself a five-time therapy champion. And who knows, maybe with more training and motivating words from my dad, I might just claim my sixth title soon.

—J. Wypasek

Ask Old Owl! Dear Old Owl, My mental health has been pretty bad recently and I’m looking for ways to improve my mood. I have tried changing my eating, exercise, and sleeping habits, but none seem to affect my mood. Is there anything I can do to get out of this slump?

Dear Owlet, You have likely heard many suggestions from friends and families, but really my expertise is unparalleled in this area having spent more than 25 consecutive years down in the dumps myself. It is important to create a calming and restorative home environment that relieves stress and starts each day off well. If you truly seek to improve your mental health the only way to go about it is by investing in suite livestock.

Having chickens on your beanbag is not only exciting, but also economical.

This way you get fresh eggs, a passion project, and a lovely bucolic ambience for the low price of a half-dozen hens.

Similarly, acquiring a goat allows you to externalize your issues by feeding printouts of your angsty poetry to your pet and seeing it disappear alongside your rug and running shoes. If you are extra ambitious you could start a smallscale tilapia farm in your sink, but that could bother your suitemates so it’s probably best to ask first.

Old Owl is the anthropomorphic mascot of the Yale Record, an alcoholic, nicotine-addicted nightbird that roams campus desperately scrounging for vestiges of the relevance he enjoyed in the magazine’s heyday. He now offers advice to you the students, free of charge. If you’d like to Ask Old Owl for advice about your weird life, email askoldowl@yalerecord.com.

I would love some tips on staying mentally and physically healthy during such a busy semester.

Dear Owlet, This is not the first time I’ve heard this problem, especially from your generation. While I understand your concern, you are approaching this from entirely the wrong direction. Focusing on self-care is inherently selfish (it’s even in the name!). People get tricked by modern media into thinking that it’s okay to set aside time to indulge in slothful or gluttonous habits and leech off the productivity of others. In reality, that is entirely unjustifiable.

There is no space in our society for inaction, let alone the meaningless consumption of resources! You want to do a face mask? You could have been doing ground breaking research on synthesizing artificial faces. You want to watch Netflix? How about you write a biting exposé on how all your devices are actually watching Dear Old Owl, you. “Making time for yourself ” is I am trying to balance selfjust “making time to be a lazy sack of care with staying on top of my shit.” academics and extracurriculars.

Dear Old Owl, I have been tr ying to make a therapy appointment with Yale Health, but I keep getting pushed back. How do I get them to prioritize my time?

Dear Owlet, It is a very busy program and I understand that it can be difficult to schedule an appointment. Luckily, there is one foolproof way to make it to the top of their list ASAP. Start by applying to an on-campus job– ideally something administrative or admissions—and be sure to forge some meaningful workplace connections with your employers.

After you graduate you can leverage those relationships (nice networking!) to get an intro level job in the Yale administration. Over the course of a few years, you can work your way up to eventually overseeing the Mental Health and Counseling department.

By now, you should be able to schedule a meeting with whichever counsellor you’d like and get prompt results. Of course, you could always just wait to be onboarded, but only if you have a lot of time to spare.

WAIVER AND RELEASE FROM LIABILITY I, ________________________, HEREBY WAIVE AND RELEASE, indemnify, hold harmless and forever discharge Yale Record Therapeutic Services and its agents, sponsors, promoters, first cousins, officials, participants, employees, suitemates, officers, directors, mascots, professors, affiliates, second cousins, successors, members, trustees, alumni, managers and assigns, of and from any and all claims, demands, debts, contracts, expenses, causes of action, lawsuits, damages and liabilities, of every kind and nature, whether known or unknown, in law or equity, that I ever had or may have, arising from or in any way related to my participation or care received in any of the events or activities, conducted by, on the premises of, or for the benefit of, Yale Record Therapeutic Services. This waiver of liability does not apply to any acts of gross negligence, or intentional, willful or wanton misconduct UNLESS said acts get a lot of traction on Yale Record socials.

I give my permission to my care management team, including any specialists, associates, assistants I am referred to or supported by, to make necessary decisions regarding first aid decisions in the event of an emergency during my treatment and/or adjustments to unrealistic or impossible life goals, especially if they are to result in further injury (physical or ego).

I agree to contact my care team in the event that I: feel my condition has worsened, begin to suffer from side effects from any prescribed medication, find myself talking and/or acting more like Tony Soprano or any of his cohort at the Bada Bing! strip club, develop an Oedipus complex, request “real” therapy, or participate in or organize other delirious actions.

In the event of a natural disaster, act of war, or other circumstance that may cause Yale Record Therapeutic Services to evacuate their building or relocate, I agree to temporarily loan out my current home, couch, and fridge for a period not to exceed 72 hours or the length of time before Yale Record Therapeutic Services finds a new location, whichever condition is longer.

I have read, understood, and fully agree to the above terms of this WAIVER AND RELEASE. I understand and confirm that by signing this WAIVER AND RELEASE I have given up considerable future legal rights, including mineral rights to my home and community, as well as my second-born child. I have signed this Agreement freely, voluntarily, under little threat of duress, without inducement, promise or guarantee being communicated to me. My signature is proof of my intention to execute a complete and unconditional WAIVER AND RELEASE of all liability to the full extent of the law. I am hopefully 18 years of age or older and mentally competent to enter into this waiver. This agreement has no cash value (but may be used as a non-fungible token as Yale Record Therapeutic Services seeks to get into that space).

DATE ____________________________ SIGNATURE ____________________________ PRINTED NAME ____________________________ MAIL

COMPLETED FORM TO: Yale Record Therapeutic Services 305 Church Street New Haven, CT 06511

MOTHER’S MAIDEN NAME ____________________________ FIRST PET ____________________________ HOMETOWN ____________________________

—T. Schroder Design by L. Dunn & S. Spaner