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In This Issue

• Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend
• Crazy Pill-Popping Cult Lives On
• A Brief History of the Apocalypse
• Letters to the Editor
• The Newest Ball-Suckin' Tea Craze
• Young Lady Changes Sex, Founds Frat-nerd-ity
• Columbiatron Chatbot Advises For Success
• Reasons Why Those Two Seniors Got Caught Cheating on the GREs
• DVD Features Will Make This World a Better Place
• Thousand-Foot Monsters "Battel" for the Future
• Duuhnuh.... Duuhnuh... Dunudunu... SHARKWALK!
• Dean Quigley: Oracle, Comedian, Swell Guy
• Jesus Freaky Christ and His Many Dopplegangers
• I Done Mediocre
• Future's A-Gonna Be Swell
• Sports Riots Portend Downfall of All Mankind
• The Four Stages of Zombification
• Super Novi Bros.
• Wacky Fun Whitey
• Now With Added Filler!
• The Staff of 18.5
• THEY Watch

Matt Holden

“Hey baby, all your ass are belong to me!”

When I get my sex change, my first order of business will be to start Psi Phi, or as some of those humanoids less hip to the groove might call it, the "nerd" frat. You see, for years I have felt that underneath this precious, feminine exterior beats the heart of a gangly, pimply gay wad, and I can no longer deny it.

Asking for proof that I am more than qualified to be the founder of Psi Phi? Chew on this: I know that Homer Simpson's middle name is Jay and that there are two Millhouses, one in Springfield and one in Shelbyville. I regale my peers with interesting facts about the scientific properties of spider string (it's stronger than both steel and Kevlar). I know that the Starship Voyager's registry number is NCC-74656. I plan to name my first child Protractor. I think Agent Scully is a total fox. If there is anybody more fitting to start this frat, I haven't met him.

Why start a frat, you ask? Comrade, hold on to your pants, because the following is the harsh reality that I have recently stumbled upon: Columbia University's Greek scene has turned a cold shoulder on goobers. How is it possible that there is a swimmer frat, yet no dork frat? It just doesn't make sense... how can it be that in this day and age, we continue to live in such an unjust world?

Calculators run through the veins of every nerd. Actual, physical calculators. I did the research. We, the students of Columbia, need a place where a phrase such as "Hey guys, check out this new calculator" will be accepted with the high fives and vigorous nods of approval it deserves. Can you in good conscience keep on living knowing that nerds must deny who they are, just because fascists have deemed things like calculators and Macintosh computers and those sweet calculator/watches (or calculatches) to be unacceptable topics of conversation? No, you can't. Unless, that is, you yourself are a fascist.

Furthermore, we need a forum in which these pressing issues can be freely debated without disapproving stares, painful wedgies, and other such tomfoolery being dispensed by the less educated masses. I will go ahead and put the first topic of discussion on the table for you all: in Mystery Science Theater 3000, why doesn't Cambot ever get to say anything? Why all the mystery? And how come Gypsy never had to watch the movies? Did she get special treatment just because she was a girl? Were Tom Servo and Crow pissed about that, or did they have crushes on her? I sensed some robotic sexual tension. I mean seriously, who's with me on this?

At our weekly meetings, we'd play Jeopardy on Nintendo and talk about why science is cool, They Might Be Giants cooing softly in the background all the while. We'd also come up with fiendish pranks that would leave the whole school "abuzz" with excitement and wonder. Our first prank will go down in history as the single most amazing prank ever pulled off. The prank is thus: I've calculated a way to adjust the sundial so that it will be five minutes fast. Such trickery! Just imagine the chaos that would no doubt ensue.

(Cue Star Wars Theme) President Bollinger, please, take my hand. Together we can make Columbia a safer place for the Marvins and the Gaylords and the male Tracys. You truly are king of kings.