• Join The Fed
• Advertise with The Fed

• About Us
• Contact

In This Issue

• Get Your Freak On, Dorks
• (Almost) Rejected by Israeli Security
• Beaten by the Retard: Adventures in Drama
• Letters to and from the Fed's Maxima and Co.
• Columbia Hipsters Are So Shallow You Think You’re in High School
• Are You a Terrorist? The Government's Shocking Answer
• Failed Terrorist Herbie Bin Laden Marries Jewish Wife, Dabbles in Scientology
• Poetry.com: Your High School Poems are Waiting for You…
• Bottled Water: Bigger than Jesus, and now Semen Free
• Revolve magazine: The Seventeenth Seal
• I Passed the Oral but Failed the Urine
• Horribly Hassled Hermaphrodites Harangue Humanity
• Trial and Error Your Way to Perfect Genital Design
• Shot Down! : Rejections Made Simple
• Your College Essay, but with less Suck
• New Twenties Bring Back Tired Old Monopoly Money Jokes

We all learned a painful lesson during Wyclef Jean’s performance a few weeks back when Wyclef asked the audience to come up and demonstrate how freaky they were.  As a school we failed, miserably, to bring out the freak.  The Columbia community is going to have to accept that, no matter how hard it tries, it is painfully unfreaky.  Oh, we’ve got classy down.  Everyone here is at an Ivy League school, or at least the wacky, vegan,  "is she gay?", sister school of an Ivy League university.  Privilege and good breeding are as easy to find here as an undercover cop selling weed in Washington Square Park.  Which brings us back to Wyclef. Now, he may not have been able to tell Columbia students and Harlem residents apart solely on the basis of appearance, but separating them by freakiness was as easy as getting busted for buying pot from an undercover cop in Washington Square Park. 

In a post-quarter-millenial celebration interview, Wyclef said of Columbia: "Classy, but not freaky enough."  Columbia now finds itself in a crisis of freakiness, with dangerously low levels of freak threatening the community-at-large’s ability to "back that azz up,” “get low,” and even perform such dated maneuvers as “raise the roof.”  Recent surveys have shown that even the freakiest students here are capable of little more than “jazz hands.”

In response, Columbia has vowed to become as freaky as the rest of the Ivy League, if not freakier.   This will be difficult, seeing as everyone knows those kids from Brown are some gawddamn frizzeaks.  The goal of the Columbia 250th Anniversary Celebration Freakiness Initiative will be to regain our prestigious position at the top of U.S. News & World Report’s "America’s Freakiest Colleges" rankings.  

Currently, the administration is reviewing several proposals for increasing the general amount of freak in the school. So far, measures including mandatory participation in ethnic clubs, dance hum, and a twenty-four hour, campus wide broadcast of HOT97 have been rejected, the last termed "barbaric" by an administration official who wishes to remain anonymous.  "We can’t force our student population to be freaky," he added.  "Everyone who wants to be freaky can be freaky in the their own way.  We can’t just tell people how to be freaky; that’s stupid, like buying drugs from an undercover cop in Washington Square Park."

So how can we all become freakier in our own way?  You have to start by realizing that being freaky is not something you just turn on when a drug addled man with dreadlocks and a microphone tells you to.  Freaky is a way of life; if you choose to be freaky, you must be freaky every moment of every day.  You must wake up freaky, eat freaky, brush your teeth freaky, go to class freaky, skip class freaky, party freaky, love freaky, sleep freaky, and die freaky.  If you party freaky enough, then when you get CAVA’ed you will get CAVA’ed freaky and you will get your stomach pumped freaky and the doctor will look at your charts and say "Damn, you’s a freak."  This is when you know you’ve arrived. 

Starting yourself down the road to freakydom is easy.  Begin by asking yourself a few simple questions:  Do these make my butt look big enough?  How do I smell?  Should I do a pole dance for thousands of people?  To be freaky, the answer to all of these questions must be "damn" or "shit".  You can also try finding a freaky person to emulate, such as L’il Kim, Lee C. Bollinger, your mom, or Fat Howie, the drunk you meet in your holding cell after getting arrested for buying marijuana from an undercover cop in Washington Square Park. 

Finally, Columbia would like to assure its alums and donors that this school will rebound from its embarrassing lack of freakiness.  In a statement issued by the office of the president of the school, Bollinger said, "I stand by our commitment to an active, diverse, and damn freaky student body.  We will never again feel the shame of being unfreaky, shame that should be reserved for sports and sports alone.  Keep those dollars coming in.”