Volume 22 Fall 2020 Issue 1

The Hegemonocle
Spiky Bois
 The MACALESTER

HEGEMONOCLE
Probably Macalester s First . And now Last . Humor Magazine
Volume 22, Issue 1
Quarantine Part II: The Spiky Boi Edition
Fall (and Winter) 2020

EDITORS-IN-CHIEF
Autumn Campbell 21
Lidija Namike 21

Managing Editor
Niko Bjork 22

Head Writer
Jared Jageler 22

Head of production
Kirk Lobban 21

STAFF
Finn Odum 21 Ethan shaw 21 Kate Sibila 21

Sophia Vischer 22 Rennie Dicarlo 22 Ava Gordon 22

Ramla Muhudiin 24 Corgan Archuleta 24 Will Nicholson 24

Alice Bjorneberg 24 Dan Bially Levy 24 Lucas Martin 24

Youssef Aithmad 24 Zoe Scheuerman 24 Coat Rack 99

SHOUT OUTS
Class of 2020 2021 -are we even graduating if graduation is over zoom?
The Hegemonocle - for continuing to produce shitty work during a shitty time
Our masks for letting us make out with them
Paul Overvoorde - For giving us constant anxiety
Founders : Mikey Freedman 11 and Danny Rocklin 11

characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is
purely satirical.
Follow us on instagram and twitter:: @hegemonocle
or email: Hegemonocle@Macalester.edu
How it’s going...
 P IZZA
by Corgan Archuleta

We here at Café Wack are committed to bringing you the most heinous pizza creations this
side of Grand Avenue. We hear your request for cheese pizza. Unfortunately, our pizza chef
has developed an artistic complex and will continue to produce increasingly grotesque food that
we hope will nourish your body and mind.

The Café Mac . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Cheese with (unintentionally) raw shrimp, chicken, beef, and anything else left from the
burger bar

The Presidential . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Sausage white sauce sprinkled with Dr. Rivera’s Luscious Locks™

Oatmeal Raisin Cookie Pizza . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

We have got to get rid of them somehow

The Sunshine . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
It doesn’t matter what it is, as long as Brandi serves it to you

The Module System . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

¼ of a pizza but it takes 3 times as much work to eat

The Cry for Help. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

the window

The Vegan Option . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Rice, beaten to a pulp with the squirrel foot method

The $3,500 One . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Not a pizza, just a lil’ reminder that you’re paying over 3 grand for this shit

If you have any requests, feel free to contact us. We won’t listen, but we’ll be sure to put your comments
on the bulletin board! By the way, our chefs strictly source our ingredients locally*

*20% sourced within 100 miles of campus, 80% from the St. Thomas compost and trash bins, or whatever
we can wrestle from the squirrels.
Snake Need Leg
A journey into the mind of Finn Odum

Snake Need Leg.

The words hang on my computer screen,
mocking me with their utter simplicity. Snake
Need Leg. It is 3 am, and this phrase--this
fever dream--has pulled me back to a sweaty
consciousness. Do I know what it means? No.
Do I have to?
This magazine has published worse garbage in the past. We’ve spent years
bullying BriRo. With no BriRo, where will we BriGo?
I sit at my desk, wearing a stained t-shirt from the Bio department and skinny jeans
two sizes too small. I’m not a Bio major. I don’t know where I got this shirt. My body
vibrated at such a high frequency last night that I summoned the shirt from beyond
the grave. These jeans are cutting off the circulation in my feet. Good. Easier for me
to stay alert. I need to pump out something--anything--but all I can think of is Snake.
How He Have No Leg. Do He Need it? What does any of that mean?

It’s been days since I’ve seen campus. Four whole days. What does Old Main even
look like? Will I ever be bombarded by the putrid, high school locker room scent
of the Humanities building again? How will I ever be able to mock Macalester, if I
cannot BE Macalester?

I had a dream I graduated last night. I was

wearing an Anthropology sweater instead
of a robe. A Snake handed me my diploma.
How did he do it? Do he Need Arm too?

Snake Need Leg.

This makes sense. This is the only thing

that makes sense.

No longer am I grounded in the reality of Brandi calling me sunshine as she

dishes out stringy, Snake-like noodles and runny marinara sauce. No longer
can I make prolonged eye contact with my sweaty professors in the LC as we
both struggle to lift more than we physically can. No longer will I have mental
breakdowns in the basement of the library.
I have breakdowns in the shower instead. I lean against the grimy tiles,
waiting for Snake to fall out of this unholy faucet. I’m drenched, dressed in an
oversized Louise Erdritch shirt from the English department. Where the fuck did this
shirt come from? How do I keep acquiring shirts from other departments?

Snake Need No Shirt. Snake Only Need Leg.

This is it. This is how I die. This is my last will and

testament. Writing unfunny jokes about Snakes.
When Hege is absorbed by Chanter in ten years,
this will be the first piece they burn for kindling.

Does Snake Need Leg, or do I Need Snake?

You have twenty dollars to build your four-person pod

for the rest of the semester. Choose wisely.

$10

$5

$3

$2
 !"#$%&'()*+,-./00-,*!-1223*4,-5*67/8,*
+3,29/,:0*+,-9-190
Earlier this semester, your Professor took everyone
by surprise by mentioning their partner in a passing
comment. “Partner?” the students reportedly
whispered. The classroom was set abuzz
with speculation as to whether, despite how
overwhelmingly queer Macalester is, this was
somehow their first non-cishet professor.
Today, your Professor has begun telling a personal
story about going to Target with their partner.
Although their partner has so far played a
minor role in this anecdote, it is clear that their
partner’s pronouns will have to be used at some
point. The excitement in the room is palpable.
Student experts are divided across the board about
this development. Gaydars are firing on all cylinders.
Some students, like Shirley Granger, are reportedly
incredibly invested. “Seeing openly queer adults in
high-level professions means a lot to me. It really
reminds me how far we’ve come to accepting LGBTQ+
individuals in society, and furthermore dismantles
a lot of fears I have for my future. Plus I’m just
imagining them at pride and damn what a cute couple
they make.” When presented with the possibility the
Professor is cishet, Shirley responded, “I mean I guess
that’s cool too. Like normalizing the term ‘partner’
is also important. But, like... I just want one queer
professor, is that too much to ask for?”
Other students expressed concerns about the
development. “There’s always been this energy of will-
they-won’t-they with my professor and me”, reported
one student who wished to remain anonymous.
“I’m scared! What if they’re straight and this is just
another unrequited love, like Dani from highschool,
with their hands so gentle, and their eyes so caring
, the curves in their physique so inviting? Or worse,
what if they’re not and I have to endure the entire
semester imagining feeding them strawberries
on my dorm bed, them shirtless, with inviting
eyes? I’d honestly rather just be stuck in limbo”.
Macaighleigh, that bitch whose camera is off and is
obviously ordering Amazon packages all day only had
this to say: “Who cares? I don’t view my professors
as people so, like, I have zero investment in their
lives. I’m studying to become a crisis counselor.”
Honestly, fuck Macaighleigh. But now that the
Target story is finishing, what will the
pronouns be? You could cut the tension in
the room with a stolen Bon Appetit knife.
...
Oh. They’re straight. That’s cool I guess.
Article by: Kirk Lobban
Dear Macalester Students:
As we continue our gradual return back to campus, I want to acknowledge your resilience in the

• ScotBottle

• AskTheAdmin

written by jared jageler

 DECEMBER
STRUGGLE-MEAL PLAN

WEEK 1 WEEK 2 WEEK 3 WEEK 4

MON
TUE
WED
THU

EAS!
CK ID
A
SN
Y
TH
AL
FRI

HE

From the HEGE CULINARY STAFF that brought you:

"Steamed Chicken Recipes to Make You Hate Yourself" and
"10 (probably) Soulless Pets You Won't Feel Bad Eating in the Apocalypse"
 Volume 13 Issue 2
FROM THE HEGEMONOCLE The Poster Issue
ARCHIVES.... Released December 2015
 SHOULD I WAVE TO THAT PERSON I’M
ABOUT TO WALK BY?
DO YOU KNOW THIS PERSON?
YES THEY’RE HOT
NO
ARE THEY IN BUT, LIKE, ENOUGH
HAVE YOU MAYBE SEEN THEM
YOUR CLASS? PUKING IN THE DOTY GENDER TO WAVE? : /
NEUTRAL BATHROOM?
YES NO YES NO
YES NO
DID THEY CALL YOU KEEP WALKING
UNCULTURED IN FRENCH CLASS SLUT!
MIND YOUR OWN
BECAUSE YOU’RE FROM OHIO?
BUSINESS
IS THEIR OUTFIT COOL?
YES NO SMILE THEN REALIZE THEY
COULDN’T SEE IT BECAUSE YES
OF YOUR MASK NO
ABORT THE MISSION
IN SHAME YOU DIRTY TAKE THEIR BOOTS AND
DIRTY BUCKEYE!! THEN HOW DO YOU RUN! THEY LOOK STRONGER
KNOW THEM. . . ? BUT YOU FIGHT DIRTY!!

ARE THEY DREAMY IN THAT

“I HAVEN’T SEEN ANOTHER HUMAN YOU’VE BEEN BREAKING THE COVID
IN 2 WEEKS” KIND OF WAY? COMMUNITY COMMITMENT BECAUSE IT’S NOT WORTH
YOU’RE A NAUGHTY NAUGHTY BOY! YOUR TIME!

YES NO
OOPS! IT’S TOO LATE AND YOU’RE JUST TOO DARN
FINE, I GUESS YOU ANXIOUS AND THAT’S WHY YOUR DAD THINKS YOU
SHOULD MOVE BACK HOME BECAUSE YOU’RE NOT
CAN YOU ENVISION CAN WAVE. . . WORTH TUITION ANYWAYS : (
YOUR TWO KIDS
CHARLES AND TAMRA
PLAYING IN THE FRONT YES THEN GO GET A COVID TEST POLITE WAVE. BUT SHIT, YOU JUST
TOGETHER YOU CHEEKY TRIPPED AND NOW YOU LOOK LIKE A
YARD. . . ?
LITTLE LOVEBIRD! FUCKING IDIOT. OH WELL! BETTER LUCK
NO NEXT TIME : (
HEGEMONOCLE
In this issue...
10 HOT TIPS
TO SPICE UP
YOUR NEXT
MENTAL
BREAKDOWN
If you’re anything like us,
the quarantine has been
very taxing meentally and
emotionally. What’s been
even harder is keeping your
mental breakdowns fresh and
exciting! Well worry no more,
as we have tips to spice up
your next mental break!
1. CHANGE UP LOCATION
of our room, and on the toilet,
but, let’s get real. Those spots are
getting a little tired. Mix it up by
crying in the common room, in the
middle of the sidewalk, or even on
the bleachers behind OlRi! It will be
even more emotionally destructive if
you get caught!
KIRK LOBBAN
#9 Will send you
SPIRALLING!
2. SWINGING
You’ve spent countless hours
worrying about your problems.
Wouldn’t it be nice to worry
about someone else’s for a
while? Enjoy all the perks
of deteriorating mental
health with none of the
responsibilities of improving
the situation! Panic about
your friend’s high-risk uncle!
Freak about the rise of fascism
in your roommate’s country,
bonus points if it’s technically
also yours! Stress about your
classmate’s D in Chemistry! The
possibilities are endless!
3. USE TOYS
Feel empty inside? Think how
much more empty you’ll feel
inside after shopping on
Amazon! Not only will you feel
shitty for spending the limited
amount of money you have at an
unethical retailer, you’ll also feel
worse because the things you buy
won’t even bring you any joy! Talk
about a two for the price of one!
Remember to also look at your bank
account and stress afterwards!
 4. BRING FOOD INTO THE
BEDROOM
No one can watch you cry into a bowl of dry
cereal when you cry into your cereal in the

5. WATCH videos about Wood Carving! Fail to recognize your face as yourself
VIDEOS when the screen goes black! Will watching this tree trunk get
turned into a bowl make you feel better? No! But it sure as hell

6. DO IT IN FRONT OF A MIRROR
Nothing makes you confront your mental health more than having a mental
breakdown in front of a mirror! Is that really how you ugly cry? Why are you doing

7. GET DRUNK!
We here at the Hegemonocle do not actually
advocate getting drunk during a mental

8. GET HIGH!
God Damnit Kirk.

9. GO TO THERAPY
During the quarantine and the module system, it

always be the right answer for everyone, but for

mental health. Just remember you are loved, and

you deserve some self care.

10. MASTURBATE EVEN MORE

Awww yeah baby. What did you think you bought
I have made a severe and continuous lapse in judgement. I have failed myself, my family, and God. Through
my faults, through my faults, through my most grievous faults...I will never recover. No matter how many times
I confess, how many good deeds I do in the future as penance, I will never be able to atone for the sweet, sexy
hedonistic sin I have committed.

What is this perverse transgression, you ask? Instead of my genetics homework, I accidentally emailed my

Wait why are you laughing?

Sh-shut the fuck up, okay, this is serious! How am I supposed to look him in the eye over Zoom now?

remember how much time I spent describing Mendel’s veiny, 13-inch beanpole. His sweet, vine-like forbidden
vegetable. God, I’m never going to be able to show my face in the Bio department again.

wait no don’t look that up please oh my god

Jinkies, now everyone’s going to know I moonlight as the erotica writer Salamander_Father! Everyone in

amount of uncontrollable orgasms in OLRI! Now, when I catch Ema With One M from Biodiv glaring at me from
six feet away on campus, I’ll know it’s because she’s kinkshaming me. Listen, Ema With One M, just because
you’re not into a polyamorous reverse-harem centering around Ada Lovelace, doesn’t mean it’s wrong.

There’s only one way to solve this: I’m dropping out. Changing my name. Move to Ohio, living on a houseboat
in the middle of Lake Erie. You’ve heard of quarantine bangs? Get ready for quarantine changing-my-identity-
in-shame-shaved-head. No one will be able to track me do--hold on, I just got an email from my professor.

Hey Finn-- Looks like you sent me the wrong document. Don’t worry, I didn’t read it. It’s too long to be
an abstract.

Oh, nevermind. Looks like I just told you all that for no reason, hah. Crazy. You’ll, uh, keep that to yourself,
right? Right?

Wait where are you going come back--

 Oppenheimer gets down and dirty in the
Splitting Those Atoms BDSM
lab

Watson and Frick Studying DNA leads to more... Erotic Couplings

Darwin teaches me more than just

Dear Daddy Darwin BDSM
evolution

Curie’s Cock Marie Curie shows Charles Darwin how a Erotic Couplings
real scientist fucks

Mendelian Reproduction Young scientist learns about BDSM

punnett squares

Pasteurize Me Daddy Erotic Couplings

Lovin’ Dr. Lovelace Lovelace meets Blackwell Lesbian Sex

Submit to Chanter!

Twins, by Lidija Namike

 The Life Of A Pre-made CC Burger
(Based on a true story)

I sit, looking up through the greasy saran wrap at the hungry college students walking by. It
has been this way my whole life: watching, waiting. At the beginning, I had hope. As each student
would walk past, my spirits would rise. Maybe she would be the one. The person to point down and
say: “Yes. That is the one. That Olive and Cream Cheese Burger. That is what I want.” But no...
they would just ask to make their own burger. They always made their own burger.

I had companions once. There were 5 other burgers of my type in my pan. We used to sit in
solidarity with each other, admiring our bold fusion of bagel topping and Mediterranean stone fruit.
But one by one they were taken by intrepid students looking to try something new. As they were
picked up by the confused student worker, incredulous eyes gleaming out from above their purple
T-shirt, my companions would always look back, telling me in a saddened whisper it would be my time
soon. But my time never came. As lunch ended and the cafe closed, I was the only one left from our
tray. Sitting alone in my pool of grease and loneliness as the shifts changed and the stations were
wiped down. Hour by hour fermenting deeper into the pan.

When the cafe reopened at 4, I once again felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, one of the
students who took one of my companions would return to rescue me. But as 4pm became 5, and 5
became 6, I realized that I was doomed to this fate of desolation and loneliness. I would sit and
watch as the tray of curly fries was refilled again and again. The student worker would call out
“we need more regular patties.” But no one ever wanted more of me. No one was interested in the
delicious fusion of olives, cream cheese, bacon, and onion.

It is now 7:45 pm. My upper bun has become hard, stale from a life out in the air. My lower bun
disintegrated an hour ago, the juices from my patty soaking it through. I sit in my congealed
grease, looking out at the world. Existential thoughts fill my head: What will happen in 15 minutes
when the Cafe closes? Will I be thrown away, left to fight for my life among the rejected scraps
of mongolian mushrooms from Flame, dragged out of the compost by a squirrel fetching food for its
master? Will my contents be dumped out and reused the next day for the pizza? The breakfast
sandwich? The beefaroni?... Will I remain here in my tray, left until tomorrow’s lunch, doomed to a
repeat of today? I shudder, wondering how my life could have gone so wrong.

Then I see him. His golden blond hair swept across his forehead. His Mac Athletics shirt tight
around his pecs, nipples aggressively greeting the world. He asks if there are any plain patties left,
but they ran out half an hour ago. This is my moment, my time to shine. His eyes glance towards
me, surveying his options. I gaze back, trying to arrange my rock hard bun in the most appetizing
way possible. His eyes flicker between me and the Pepper Jelly Black Bean Burger, my rival from
the pan next door. And then, with a resigned shrug, he says it. Those dreaded words. A single
utterance that forever seals my fate.

“I guess I’ll just get some fries.”

A Zoom Romance
By your secret admirer
ABOUT THE STAFF
 Hello, I am Covid, the Corona Hegehog. You
might know me from my modelling career, starring
on the cover of Hegemonocle, Spikey Boi edition.
My friends at the Hegemonocle have asked me
to say something. This pandemic is a very serious
situation, and many of us have dealt with loss,
illness or other hardships. Hegemonocle, Spikey Boi
edition is in no way meant to make light of these

uniquely terrible moments. So stay safe, take care

of yourself, and do whatever other bland sayings
people are saying these days.

Hegehogs to make love to.

Follow us at
@Hegemonocle
On Twitter and Instagram

Interested in joining?
Email us at
Hegemonocle@macalester.edu

Join today! (well next

semester tbh)