The...TRUTH #44 - Back IssueTHE COMPLETE, UNADULTERATED, UNABRIDGED, ALL-AMERICAN, UNBIASED, WHOLESOME, HONEST TO GOODNESS, PLAIN AND SIMPLE TRUTH (cyberpunk edition) no. 00044 discord 42, 3160The only publication on campus that's almost too pretty to eat. PIECE OF CAKEStudents in the English and art and design departments at Northern Michigan University are balking at a new requirement for graduation. The new course sequence is called the "Get a Real Job" cognates. They include eight additional credits for English and art and design majors. English majors are required to pick eight credits out of the following:
Art and design majors are required to choose eight credits out of:
"Obviously the art and design courses have to be more basic because NMU's art and design department is so ridiculously bad," said an administrator. "I don't think either group stands a snowball's chance," said Sami the Jerk (academic affairs editor for The...TRUTH). "These folks just don't get it. With desktop publishing, the line between writing and graphic design were blurred. With The Net becoming more influential, the line between writing and computer programming is becoming increasingly blurred. Meanwhile, we've got professors who are still trying to turn on a light board." "I object to the idea that our students are not up to the standards of other schools," said a board of control member. "We turn out hundreds and hundreds of graduates every semester. We wouldn't be able to graduate so many if they weren't prepared, would we? Our students are prepared for the real world." "Unrealistic opinions are contagious," said Sami. INSIDE:Morton Downey Jr.: Next time it's for real! Forgotten: 2 issues ago--the meaning of life the universe and everything.
Huh? WPUX has $500 not $1500 as reported. Plus: We ignore Kurt Cobain!
Bathroom Wall.When you look at Northern, you might think that we have a sheltered life, but things are not what they seem. Life here is only an illusion. We have as much hate as the rest of the world, and an over abundance of stupidity. As I was using the rest room in The 3rd floor of the TFA, I read the wall. This is some of what I read.
"AIDS: Not for gays any more" "Fagget" These people who write these things are cowards. They write these things knowing that they will stay anonymous. Most of the things that I read are racist, sexist, or just plan rude. I was also thinking that I am paying for them to write these things on the wall. They have to repaint the walls every summer--and that costs me money. I do not claim to be better then these people who write on the walls. I just think if they were going to do that they should write an editorial, or some other form of expression. I do not have to read a newspaper; I have to read those things that they put on the wall. I do not get the choice as to where I can go to the can. This is just a gripe of mine and I have had it for a few years now. We are in college, people. Can we act like we are college students and stop writing on wall like two year- olds? Signed, The United States National Guard and You"Be all that you can be, in the Army..." How does one get into the Guard? Well, the first thing you need, before anything else, is a relative to convince you that it is the way to go. You agree, because they are your family and they would never lie to you would they? Next, go to a local recruiter, who will further convince you of the huge sums of money the army is willing to pay you based on the fact that you have no skills and just graduated from high school. Of course, he asserts, you will not have to do anything you don't want to do--the army is just one big corporation, after all. A trained dedicated recruiter wouldn't lie to you right? Next step the ASFAB which is the Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery. A test I believe is aimed at second grade level. This wonderful test will tell you if you have the necessary skills to operate a rifle or a typewriter in today's army. Off you go to the MEPS center. This wonderful Nirvana of bureaucracy is the Military Processing Center, where everyone within a several hundred mile radius is congregated to be processed into the armed service of your choice. Some of the wonderful exercises include but are not limited to: pissing in a cup, handing over large blood samples to silent uncaring hospitalmen 1st class, a full proctological and physical exam, and last but not least, a complete neurological exam that involves stripping to your shorts and walking like a duck. Oh, by the way, they test you for every drug known to man, and the kicker is: If you are busted, they will still enlist you but they will then throw you in a military prison for false enlistment and lying which, I guess, is a big no-no. Then you wait in a cold empty room devoid of any character except several tons of airborne cigarette smoke. After several conversations with Billy-Bob from Podunk, Ohio and trying to read the tattered Parenting magazine from 1954, you give up and zone. Finally the recruiter will call and give you the joyous news. They have accepted you! You somehow made the grade. You are usshered into his office and commence signing exaclty 2,596 pieces of paper, the federally sanctioned amount for enlistment. You are then ushered into a worn room with a flag that has begun to wilt from being pledged at so often. A tired, old major gives you the induction speech and you enlist. You wander out of the room to wait some more. Then it finally hits you, "wait a second, What the hell have I just done?" You look next to you. Your companions stare incredulously at the papers in their hands. Then comes the resignation. "Well, it is only 8 years, and I do get $100 a month. It's not that bad, right guys? Guys?" Your comrades at arms have taken their leave to puke and you wonder how you're going to explain this one to Mom. Notes from the UnderclassmenWhile we were poking around where we shouldn't have been we found a list of Writing Proficiency Exam questions. We're probably gonna get in big trouble for revealing what they are, but we'll take the risk.
Power Shift or Shaft?We regret to inform you that Paul `Ole' Olson is leaving us. He's graduating this Spring after being here for 10 years. (Applications for Resident Old Guy are now availble.) The Greater Poop of Project E*L*F has passed the torch to me, Nicole Franzen. I will do my best as Project E*L*F Chieftess to flame those in need of it and fan the fires of chaos across campus. (Don't blame Paul, he didn't know I'm a pyro. Northwinds make great firestarters.) I regret the loss of the... Truth. I'll miss it dearly. I will continue on with my friends in the Digital Discord and Mutant Television. Watch for us. (George Bush thought he was something with a mere thousand points of light.)
By The Way...*This just in! Diana Malouf is not leaving NMU! We heard that at the last moment, as she was cleaning out her office, the Powers That Be finally decided that all their much ballyhooed "Multiculturalism" amounted to so much fart gas if they don't have at least the pretense of a support system for the multicultural students. So they offered her a new contract. This is a step in the right direction! *Ed Niemi has been dethroned as University Bad ass! Rumor has it that dorm students who get in trouble would rather talk to Ed than the dreaded-- Paul White! Yes, the kids in trouble say-- "Mr. White is bad news." Ed will have to be even nastier next semester to get his rep back--but we're sure he can do it. Go get `em, Ed! *Project E*L*F's employee of the month is Dr. Laura Campbell, dean of graduate studies. Dr. Campbell is really willing to go out of her way to tell grad students where they need to go to get their requirements done. Thanks Dr. Campbell, we all hope when we're grad students that we'll have a chance to tell you where to go! *Our mainframe conference (which you can access by typing "/conf truth" on the command line on MUSIC) will not be closing down over the summer. *We don't know if you can say the same thing for ASNMU conf (which you can access by typing "/conf asnmu" on the command line). *"/Conf ASNMU" is the sequel to "/conf election." For those of you who missed it--the real ASNMU election debate was on MUSIC. This brings us to the point that the Legion of Digital Discord would like you to realize--more and more is happening in cyberspace. You must become literate in computers--the revolution will not be televised, but it will be covered on the net. *In honor of that--you can get back issues of The...TRUTH (and "A Brief History of The...TRUTH" written by our Interim Editor In Chief Emeritus--Paul Olson) by anonymous ftp to *The Stage Company is holding "Driving Miss Daisy" for ransom. They sent cards to everyone on their mailing list saying that they needed $18,000 or they would go belly up. Uh, isn't the Stage Company a professional theater company? That is, a profit making venture?
*I mean sure, they have the guts to produce all-women shows like "Nunsense," or "Steel Magnolias" while Forest Roberts Theatre is still hanging onto "My Fair Lady," which our own rabid feminist Shelly Russell-Parks directed. (Sure she's a poser--but who's she posing as?) *But the bottom line is: if Stage Company goes down the boober--so be it! White's Party Store wouldn't send out postcards asking for donations if they were in financial trouble, would they?
*April 16th was a heck of a night to be out and about. *Amadeus was long--but it didn't feel long. Plus--Tom Laitinen IS Salieri, I don't care what you say. *The Wig concert was truly odd. I didn't know we had so many kids from Seattle living in Marquette. They must have refrained from bathing since Ash Wednesday to get grubby enough for that event.
*A cooler, more intimate gathering was the Society for the Preservation of the Imagination meeting across the hall. *But if you were at Amadeus, Wig or SPI or if you just ran down to the Citgo for a pack of rubbers, you saw between midnight and two a.m. the best Northern Lights in decades-- blues and greens and pinks that just made you want to gouge your eyes out for joy.
It has been discovered by reporters for The...Truth that Attorney General Janet Reno has been invited to offer the commencement address this spring. Because of her ever- changing schedule, Ms. Reno agreed to speak, but included the stipulation that she "might be forced to offer the commencement address by satellite".
When we heard that, we figured that what we smelled was rotten cheese in Denmark (actually, it might have been Erik), and so we did some digging. It's like -- what's preventing Janet Reno from striking the same deal with any number of schools, and then just popping in a tape and cashing her check?
We located a draft of Janet Reno's commencement address:
"Dear Graduates of (1. fill in name of institution): Well, well, well...look at you. You've finally made it! After (2. fill in typical number ofyears it takes to get a four-year degree at the institution) years, here at/on the (3. descriptive statement meant to regionalize address), you can finally say to yourself (4. local vernacular for having done a goodjob). And you can say with pride!
I recently had breakfast with (5. name one community muckimuck and one influential member of the university), and I asked these (6. complementary adjective) individuals what it took -- what it really took to earn a post-secondary degree in the 90's.
(7. Cite the muckimuck) told me, "It takes three things at (8. Nickname institution), (9. list three things that show understanding of area, institution, and humour).
I told them, "Well, I know a group of (10. approximate size of graduating class) young men and women who have all three, and plenty of it!
Class of (11. year)... you've got the three that it takes, now go out and get it!"
The...Truth would like to recommend the following "fill-ins" for Ms. Reno:
"How shall I go in peace and without sorrow? Nay, not without a wound in the spirit shall I leave this city.
Long were the days of pain I have spent within its walls, and long were the nights of aloneness, and who can depart from his pain and his aloneness without regret?
Too many fragments of the spirit have I scattered in these streets, and too many are the children of my longing that walk naked among the hills, and I cannot withdraw from them without a burden and an ache.
It is not a garment that I cast off this day, but a skin that I tear with my own hands.
Nor is it a thought I leave behind me, but a heart made sweet with hunger and with thirst."
--Kahlil Gibran
Well, I've dreamed about writing my farewell for a long time, but after reading the farewells in the North Wind, I almost don't even want to bother. What can I say after Joe Hall's stunning commentary?
I could thank all the people who've worked so hard to make The...TRUTH a success, but there have been so many people whose efforts to stop The...TRUTH have resulted in making The...TRUTH stronger, that I'd have to thank them too.
I think I'll just stick with offering some advice.
Marquette has more bachelor's degrees per capita than any other city in Michigan. I have seen so many people just graduate from Northern and sit on their asses for years and years and years. If nothing else, leave for a while. Go get a job. Work for a few years and then come back to look for the few good-paying jobs in the U.P. It'll be easier if you have some experience, but even then employers look at you and say, "What? You couldn't handle it out there in the real world?"
Get out while you can! Get out while you can!
I'm sure some of you are saying: "He'll be back for his master's." Well, I won't. I got a letter the other day from NMU saying please come to 602 Cohodas and pick up your $2,000 development fund scholarship. I went to the office and President Vandament met me.
"Paul, I'd like to thank you for all your hard work during your time at NMU," he said.
"Thank you Mr. President," I said. "I heard something about a check?"
"Yes, I have it right here--but you have to sign a few things before we can hand it over." He then offered me a clipboard with some forms.
Anxious for the cash, I took the board and was poised to sign when I noticed it read: "I, Paul Olson, promise not to pursue a master's degree at Northern Michigan University...."
A tense moment was shared as I looked Vandament straight in the eye. Sweat glistened on his forehead. I smiled; He grinned sheepishly.
"I'll take your dirty money, old man," I said, signing the form. "I wouldn't come back here if you gave me Phil Buekema's job."
Hey, every man has his price--mine is just a little lower.
One final note: This is the Very Last Issue of The...TRUTH Ever. Yes, it's true--Project E*L*F is closing up shop for good, again. Don't look for this rag next semester `cause it's done. It's over. Stop reading now. Go outside. Get a life.
Well, that's about all the damage I can do here. As they say in Germany: "Ich bin outta here, Baby!"
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