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Vol. 3, issue 2
sePteMber 16, 2010
“Kenyon’s other sole newsPaPer”
Cleanup Of Oil Spill At DKE Beach Party Still In Infant Stages
By Diesel Jackson OLD KENYON — The oil tanker rented by the Delta Kappa Epsilon fraternity, originally intended as a piece of decoration for their beach-themed all-campus party on September 4, has given way to a disaster that has devastated the college and the community. College maintenance crews continue to organize and execute the cleanup of the sizable oil spill left over from the tanker’s puncture by a number of icebergs around 11:45 p.m. the night of the party. While the crews propose plans of action towards the pools of crude oil collected in the west and central patios behind Old Kenyon, retired Head KAC Lifeguard Miles Somerset ’11 says that the task will not be easy. “See, this is a delicate ecosystem,” reported Somerset, “and a diverse habitat, and every species must find their place.” As members of the maintenance crew pulled party-goer Cassandra James ’13 up out of the oil pool, Som-
InsIde ThIs Issue
Someone Buys Bookstore Puppet Collegian To Feature Scratch-n-Sniff Pages First Floor McBride Bonds At Fiesta: “We Took The Shuttle!” PF Kluge Just Up And Spits Out Another Book
erset shook his head and sighed. “It’s a tragedy. You hate to see a beautiful creature of nature so afflicted.” James proceeded to wipe her eyes and look helplessly about. “My goodness,” exclaimed DKE Peter Relick ’12, struck by the sight of oil dripping off of James’ bikini. “I just can’t believe this. I need to call my Greenpeace guy.” “One must understand,” Somerset continued, “that the balance of
College maintenance crews closed off the premises from would-be partiers.
this ecosystem is directly correlated with the fraternity’s tourist industry. Who is going to walk south now on the weekends? How are [the DKEs] going to advertise successfully for Friday’s “T-Rex Bros and Pterodactyl Hoes” Party? It’s just a mess. Lots of things to consider. The local economy will surely continue to struggle.”
Continued on page 2.
Crime-Fighting Superteam Foils Jaywalking Menace 2010 Grads Find New Opportunities In Unemployment
By Sheridan Whiteside GAMBIER — The nightmare is over. Lindsay Rollins ’12 was arrested and brought to justice Saturday night, thanks to none other than the legendary Kenyon Justice League. The squad waged an unprecedented campaign against the diabolical criminal mastermind — an anthropology major and elementary-school volunteer — using their combined superpowers to apprehend, degrade and ultimately eradicate her from campus. “When I saw her foot touch the pavement, I knew the time for action — and for justice — had come,” said The Sheriff, leader of the KJL. “Jaywalking is a serious offense.” Swooping in on his trusty chariot with sirens blaring, The Sheriff signaled the other league members by shining a K from the Peirce tower. One by one, they all descended from the skies: the virtuous Captain Collegian on her righteous press; the CDO
t he kenyon collegiat e
and its reluctant alumni network; Greek Council on its giant eagle of irrelevance; AVI, an enormous, amorphous blob of waste and disillusionment, propelled by some awful hunger; and lastly, the ghost of Phi-
By Clams Casino
The Captain stopped at nothing to break her prisoner, summoning otherworldly powers of public humiliation and yellow journalism.
lander Chase, who with a translucent, crooked finger pointed toward Rollins shrieked, “Halt! Transgressor!” Rollins, on her way to practice viola, was apprehended and transported to a top-secret dungeon known only as “Caples,” where she was forced to spend days waiting for an elevator that would never arrive.
Continued on page 4.
COLLEGE RELATIONS CENTER — Two members of the graduating class of 2010 are currently employed, Alumni Affairs announced yesterday on the Kenyon homepage. “We’re really proud of Annalisa Gibbs and Thomas Lawson-Johnston and their real jobs,” professed Scott Baker ’94, director of alumni programs. “But I think it’s important not to undermine the invaluable achievements of the other 416 graduates.” President Nugent made a YouTube video that she sent to the 416, applauding them for their diversity of experience. “Some of you have been spending time with friends of bygone years. Others have been helping your parents with the laundry,” says Nugent, winking at the camera, “And one of you even started a low-fi acoustic group.” One such alumna, Nora Abraham ’10, is planning a visit back to her alma mater. “I’ve gotten really nos-
talgic since I graduated. I can’t wait to come back and just hang out and reminisce.” While an English major at Kenyon, Abraham was an editor of the literary magazine Hika, and a member of the musical group Take Five.
“Some of you have been . . . helping your parents with the laundry.”
“I can’t wait to stop in and give my old groups some tips and suggestions. I’ve learned so much since I’ve graduated. I really feel that they could benefit.” Abraham’s post-college commitments have included finishing Proust’s In Search of Lost Time and playing Minesweeper. Alumnus Jerry Ingles ’10 is also excited about future prospects. Although not formally employed, the
Continued on page 4.
Roommate’s Jokes About Being A Furry Going A Little Too Far
By Jean Shortz MCBRIDE — Class of 2014 member Adrian Bronstein did not initially think anything was particularly out of the ordinary with his roommate, Jerry Shelton ’14. In fact, he felt rather comfortable with him—they shared meals and joked around with one another. “I thought we had a good thing going the first week or so,” said Bronstein. That all changed, however, when Shelton’s quips about being a furry—a person who identifies with animals more than humans and prefers to engage in any and all activities while dressed in an animal costume— went too far. “At first, it was kinda funny,” said Bronstein. “He would be like, ‘Dude, wouldn’t it be hilarious if I was one of those people that liked to dress up in animal costumes and, like, cuddle with people?’ I was like, ‘Haha, yeah, dude, that’d be pretty fucked up.’ Next thing I know, he texts me telling me he has a surprise. I come back to the room, and he’s wearing this full body bear costume with some of my clothes on over it and being all like, ‘Look, dude! I’m Hairy Beary Shelton! I should wear this out this Friday night—that’d be so funny.’” On Friday night, Bronstein returned to his room to find the door locked and a stuffed animal ducttaped to the handle—the code that Jerry had established with him while writing their roommate contract.
“Haha, yeah, dude, that’d be pretty fucked up.”
Bronstein heard a female voice inside and retreated to the McBride common room. Minutes later, the woman rushed through the common room, looking confused, followed by Shelton, fully-dressed in the bear suit. Said Bronstein, “Jerry laughed and said something about how the girl didn’t get his joke about the tactile pleasures of the fur far surpassing any sexual pleasure derived from skin to skin contact…or whatever.” Bronstein decided at this point to notify his Community Advisor Jennifer Warren, ’12, who had also noted some of
Shelton’s abnormal behavior. “I was doing my rounds on Tuesday and knocked on Jerry and Adrian’s door,” reported Warren. “Jerry told me to come in, and when I opened the door, he was standing there with his mattress completely disassembled and restuffed with what looked like stuffed animals or, as he called them, ‘plushies. So that was pretty weird.” Warren notified the college of his behavior on the grounds that he destroyed school property. Bronstein reported hearing Shelton on the phone making reservations at the DoubleTree Hotel in Columbus— the location of the 2010 Ohio FurryCon. When asked about his reasons for attending, Shelton said, “Right, like I’m here to enjoy this? To officially register myself and my fursona in the national registry, engage in anthropomorphically themed crafts, and scritch and yiff in a furpile with hundreds of other plushofiles to my heart’s content? Psh. Yeah, right. I’m totally just here for the joke! I totally got Adrian! God…I totally, totally got him.”
Anger, Despair Mix In Aftermath Of Caples Elevator Catastrophe
By Charlie Adams CAPLES — Nearly nine days have passed since the dust settled around the Caples Elevator disaster. The repair workers have departed, as have the allstus, and the images and reports that shocked the campus seem little more than a memory. But for Charles Stevenson ’12, a hard-working junior psychology major, those two harrowing weeks still feel like yesterday. “There’s no way to describe it,” says Stevenson, strolling along the very stairwells he was forced to climb up and down for days on end. “A man comes to depend on certain things in his life. We are lifted up, we are brought down.” He pauses to kick at one of the Keystone cans littering the floor. “When those things, those sure bets, are taken away, what does that man become?” Stevenson is just one of many students still haunted by memories of the devastation. Researchers estimate that as many as seventy students in the upper floors alone may have been mildly inconvenienced or even slightly miffed. Their legs sore, their hearts weary, they are plagued by questions: How did it happen? Are we safe now? Could it happen again? The answers are anyone’s guess. There are things we know: sometime in the late summer, a ball bearing in
From ‘Oil Spill,’ p.1
Allegations considering the spill are still pending, as are charges against DKE President Scottie Reach ’11, who ordered the placement of several icebergs around the tanker. “Yeah… The icebergs were a little much, weren’t they?” said Reach. “We just tried to make the setting authentic, though clearly it backfired. It’s truly regrettable.” “Then again,” continued Reach, “the décor did add a little, I don’t know, je ne sais quoi.” “Though it’s a tragedy, we’re all very lucky,” said Somerset, citing that this may be the worst disaster brought upon by a fraternity since the brothers of Delta Tau Delta attempted to light their pledges on fire in the spring of 2008. “We already apologized for that,” remarked Delt President Thad Hudson ’11.
the newly renovated elevator’s machinery went astray. Repair crews responded immediately, but the elevator continued to stall. Burritos were offered. And then there are the things we don’t know: If maintenance knew the ball bearings could fail. What the long-term effects on the lift’s indigenous marine life might be. Why reporters were barred from entering the elevator shaft. Much of the blame seems to lie on OTIS, the multinational corporation responsible for lifting operations in the Caples area. Throughout the disaster, the company’s fleet of vans maintained a dead zone around the building’s back side, prohibiting entrance by even humanitarian volunteers groups. Some have called that curtain of secrecy unethical, and many have criticized the company’s CEO and chairman for refusing to address the issue. Neither has yet paid a visit to the site.
But questions of who’s at fault hold little value now for Marie Brunson ’13, whose suite of six was displaced from their ninth-floor home by the catastrophe. Rather, her focus is on the building as it stands today. For while the media continues to debate the hypotheticals of the disaster, for Brunson and those like her, the consequences are all too real. “I just don’t know what we’ll do,” she says. “Lot of folks have moved away to Leonard or Bexleys, but most of us just don’t have the points. But Caples has always been our home. We’ll find a way to survive.” Today, Brunson looks hopeful and at home. She strolls around her beloved building, passing winded stairclimbers and smoking hipsters. The air is clean and crisp. Squirrels play in the grass, crows cackle and argue. And far away, like a ghostly sound heard from the distant, idyllic past, a bell dings.
The elevator remains shrouded in secrecy.
Last week, we reported that the Lords Football team had lost 6-21 to Denison. However, the only way to really lose is if you never try at all. However, The Collegiate refuses to apologize for the error. Everybody makes mistakes — but not all mistakes are bad.
2 p l ease
recycle issue b e f o r e o r a f t e r r e a d i n g
Go Fuck Yourselves
By The Peirce Servery Look at all of you: standing in line in the atrium, mouths watering, stomachs grumbling, waiting for me to open my doors—ushering you into a doubtlessly sumptuous feast. Perhaps you’re peeking through the window, wondering what treats I have in store for you today, or perhaps you’ve read my Twitter and are already giddy with anticipation for the exciting new culinary delights promised you. You idiotic, sniveling bastards. Little do you realize what hell awaits. Go ahead — breach the bowels of my domain, you putrescent scum, and await a torture more demented than any you could have imagined. For I am the Peirce Servery, and now that our paths have crossed, get ready for my nightmarish reign over your life. What fresh horror will I have prepared for you for this day? Will it be a meal consisting of nauseating morsels like lukewarm tilapia and Tofurkey stew? Or a mealtime so full of the ravening masses that you must brave an unending line for your scoop of frigid cottage cheese? Or perhaps— my favorite—a day when my food stations stand vacant, troughs like ghost towns, as empty as your stomach is now and your soul is soon to become. I watch, chuckling with delight, as you poor saps turn in desperation to any nutrients available. But of course, I’ve outwitted you at every turn: the salad bar brimming with withered, lifeless lettuce; the fatigued soda dispenser belching out an anemic liquid halfway between soda and water; the soft serve machine promising nothing but sodden ice cream that drips into your cone like so much pus off a cadaver. Oh, and good luck fitting whatever shards of excrement you can find on your tiny plate—that’s right, it’s trayless Tuesday! What’s that you say? You’ll stop me? You’ll tell the world about my vile ways? Ha! You deluded, impotent maggots: who will possibly believe you? Weak with hunger, you’ll spin your sorry tale to the authorities and they’ll laugh in your face. They’ll point to my charming and energetic staff, my commitment to local food programs, and my beautiful, ornate dining area. Only you and I will know the truth, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Bon appétit, fuckers.
That’s Why I’m Going Abroad
By Barclay Heriot
Brace yourself. This may come as a shock to you. I, Barclay Heriot, am going abroad next semester, and I cannot wait. I know what you’re thinking. “You’re leaving, Barclay Heriot? But you’re a Kenyon celebrity!” Well, that’s true enough. That probably won’t ever change. It seems like only yesterday that I created and administered the Kenyon College Class of 2012 Facebook group, posted daily, and friended all of you. But things change. And to be honest, it was all an illusion. After the hell of high school, I thought Kenyon was my paradise, and I was ready to devote undying love and affection to it. And for a while, I was a god. Every time I stepped out of Norton, it was: “Hey, Barclay Heriot, hey, Barclay Heriot!” First and last name: a sure sign you’re becoming a legend. Then, somewhere around the time I was rejected as an intern to the Kenyon Review, reality started to sink in. I realized that Ohio was a few acres of land in the middle of nowhere. And I realized that I wanted to trans-
fer. Don’t worry. I talked myself out of that one. Kenyon is a part of me. Forever. Whether I like it or not. But from the guy who thought he couldn’t love it any more, let me tell you, Kenyon isn’t that great. Things are piling up. I’m starting to hate this place. I thought I would dread it, but I’ve started looking forward to Uruguay next semester. Everything horrible here at Kenyon reminds me of how perfect Uruguay will be. Eating milhojas in Montevideo, swimming with orphans in the Rio de la Plata… I can’t wait. Meanwhile, I have this to deal with: –The people who call me “Bark” or “Clay.” That’s why I’m going abroad. –The people who won’t even look at me even though I KNOW they
First and last name: a sure sign you’re becoming a legend.
know who I am. That’s why I’m going abroad. –The people who implied they would watch I, Claudius with me and then flaked out. All twenty of them. THAT’S why I’m going abroad! –The lack of New England cuisine in Peirce. Ever heard of clam chowder? Bulkie rolls? Shadbakes? That’s why I’m going abroad. –My wisdom teeth. They hurt like hell. I know this isn’t Kenyon’s fault directly, but every time I try to tell someone about it, they just go “oh no, man, that’s a bummer.” Hello?! I’m in PAIN. That’s why I’m going abroad. Tune in next time. There are thousands every day.
Peer Review Leads To Some Really Great Insights
By Roy McKluskin’ HAYES — A peer review session conducted by Professor Bernard Huff’s English 245 class last Thursday proved extremely fruitful according to some students. It resulted in “a totally wonderful exchange of ideas,” reports sophomore Kimya-Dawn Slovack ’13 interviewed while attending Professor Huff’s office hours. Slovack, looking nervously out of the corner of her eye at the smiling Huff, added, “I think peer edits are a great idea. They give you a jump start on the paper and help you make sure you take your time and really consider all the details.” Another of Huff’s students was surprised at the results of her peer
k enyon.collegiate@g m a i l . c o m
edit. “I did the whole thing half an hour before class,” said Amy Mint ’12, “but when I got my paper back, there were barely any marks on it!” Said Mint’s peer reviewer, Elliot Sweeney ’13, “I thought it was an excellent analysis. Her argument was so interesting. I would have never
“Her argument was so interesting . . . also, Amy has really pretty hair.”
thought to consider gyspy-centric homo-narrativial tone in Their Eyes Were Watching God before. Also, Amy has really pretty hair.” “I never thought that anyone would compare the beauty of my
Huff enjoys a private moment.
prose to the beauty of my crystal blue eyes,” Mint reflected, “But I don’t really understand what that thing about meeting Elliot behind the bookstore was all about.” Tim Bryly ’11, a senior who is taking the class pass/fail, turned in “five sheets of blank paper, doublespaced,” and received a page-long response praising his use of metaphor. His peer reviewer explained that Bryly’s contribution had really given her a lot to think about, especially after Huff mentioned that participation grades would be affected by the quality of their critiques. “Overall, I would rate the exercise a total success,” said Huff. “The students got to learn from each other... and I got to take a cigarette break.”
YouTube Video Reënergizes Stagnant Friendship
By Esteban Sinclaire DEMPSEY DINING HALL — Only an hour after watching the viral YouTube sensation “Marcel The Shell With Shoes On,” longtime acquaintances Wendy Regalston ’12 and Claire Fillipine ’12 announced Tuesday that their once-stagnant friendship has been completely reënergized. The pair publicized their revitalized relationship in Demsey Dining Hall, where an hour before the two had been forced to sit in tense, awkward silence after their mutual friend Monica Rahorn ’12 left the lunch table to attend French class. After several minutes of forced coughs and an occasional murmur of displeasure in regard to the servery’s wilted lettuce, Regalston finally broke the tension by asking Fillipine if she had seen “that funny shell video or whatever.” “I was panicking, because, you know, I was close to finishing my food and then my mouth wouldn’t be full and I would have to talk,” said Regalston. “I was trying to think of anything, I mean anything that we still had in common, and then I remembered that [Fillipine] likes the World Wide Web, and like, so do I.” Fillipine, eager to break the terrible quiet that had gathered around their table despite a seemingly full dining hall, jumped at the opportunity to talk. “No, but, I’ve got my computer here if you, like, wanna watch it or whatever,” Fillipine reportedly responded after glancing at the servery clock and realizing she had fifteen more minutes until her biology class started.
From ‘Superteam,’ p.1
Fillipine then proceeded to open her computer and play the YouTube hit, an adorable and hilarious video depicting a toy shell describing its small world. Merely seconds after the video ended, the pair knew that something significant had changed between them. “The video ended and Claire got real quiet then looked at me and just whispered, ‘Forgive me... sister,’” Regalston said. “We both just started bawling.” In the hour that followed, apologies and subsequent forgiveness gushed forth from Regalston and Fillipine, who both realized how totally awesome the other person was despite having not spoken much last semester. “Its just that you knew I liked Jeremy [Lords ’11], and when you hooked up with him sophomore year it felt like you did it to hurt me!” Regalston reportedly said after wiping her nose for the tenth time. “I just felt so small, small like a, like a...like a shell!” “I’m so sorry. You’re my best friend!” Fillipine responded as makeup ran down her face in big wet tears. “If you’re like Marcel, then I’m like your fake lint-dog!” After wiping away the tears and embracing for several minutes, both Fillipine and Regalston decided to set aside at least an hour every week where they could “just dish, girlfriend style.” “You are like so funny and so sweet,” Fillipine said. “You are, seriously, my best friend at this school.” “No, you’re my best friend, and I’m so glad we’re talking again!” Regalston said. “And you have to see ‘Funny Cat Jump’.”
A brave, not yet disheartened Rollins was then handed over to Captain Collegian for questioning. Renowned for pursuing justice regardless of ethics or whether or not it serves the college’s public image, the Captain stopped at nothing to break her prisoner, summoning otherworldly powers of public humiliation and yellow journalism. “You can rest assured that she will no longer terrorize our peaceful
streets by walking across them,” said Captain Collegian in a statement published Thursday. “I have banished her from the village.” “Let other careless wanderers be forewarned,” she added, “today marks the beginning of a new era: an era of crosswalks, vigilante justice, and hard-hitting journalism — all in the name of duty. I offer no apologies. There can be no turning back.”
The KJL springs into action.
By Granny Hayes
One Valiant Rogue To Save New Apts From Freshmen
From ‘Website,’ p.1
former Anthropology major is doing groundbreaking research. “I’m exploring the conveniences that technology offers to 20–25 year-old men in the 21st century,” said Ingles, expressing his pleasure that the topic does not mandate that he leave his parents’ residence in suburban Massachusetts.
t he kenyon collegiat e
Lawson-Johnston enjoys his first day of work.
“It’s a really unique experience,” explains Ingles. “I don’t have an actual job, per se, but what would that accomplish? I’m doing stuff on my own terms: I wouldn’t be able to do this at any other point in my life.”
NEW APARTMENTS — The sun set on New Apartments A-2 Friday night, as its residents finished steaming the harvest hen and stringing up the last hand woven tapestry in order to celebrate the week’s end. “Come forth from your apartments, good neighbors!” shouted Stephen Blain ’11 from the window of A-2, “the hens are plentiful and the drink overflowing!” New Apartment residents and area invitees flooded into the party donning their finest garments. “I told dear Heather [Duffy ’12] that with a corset that tight, even the prudish Jeremy [Brown ’12] would think you a strumpet,” said May Green ’12. The celebration took an unfortunate turn when hundreds of knavish freshmen, covered by night’s shadowy cloak, descended from atop their Quad to the party in the woods below. The unwelcomed visitors roamed en masse searching for a few drops of drink and a few cubits of companionship. “I saw the brutes pawing at the walls of my apartment, trying to get inside,” said Blain. “It was not the first time I’d seen their tiny baby hands reaching out for what was mine” he added, referring to the weekend prior when freshman James Lurch ’14 overimbibed in the finest
liquid sin and purged himself of the poison throughout the two-storied apartment. The situation worsened after Blain instructed the God-fearing celebrants to “get down on the damn ground” when he confronted the hundreds that encircled the front door. “Back! Back! You scoundrels, get back!” yelled Blain, holding a fiery torch. The flame’s glow frightened the miniature humans and Blain laughed as the freshman fled. “Your land is free,” he said. “It is free.”
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