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In This Issue

• Latvia, Land of Style and Lip-Hair, Too
• Liquids Banned
• Coke: Who Snorts What
• Hate for the Hate Squad
• Tales of the Inexpressible - Part I
• Al Franken Talks, Frankly
• Eggs Run with Claims of Cracker Nazis
• A Spears-Federline Manifesto
• What Goes on in my Head While I Get Paid to Pick Pine Needles out of the Gravel at my Local Country Club
• Hairless Man
• University to Fund Loan Elimination by Selling Drugs
• Proclamations from the Desk of Most Glorious Marshal Lee Bollinger
• Poland Ruined Everything
• Prez-Bo
• Tales of the Inexpressible - Part II
• Da Vinci Code Confirms Church Can't Tell Fiction From Non-Fiction
• On My Early Fame
• Able to Fuck My Anus in a Single Pound
• THEY WATCH

John Krauss

"You want 'Financial Aid?' More like 'Capitalist Aid!' Get out of this office! We will bury you!"

Oct. 11th 2006: Hallo comrades! Due to an exponential increase in the number of students hailing from the former Soviet bloc, and a general increase in the student body's exasperation with the government, a wonderful thing is happening. The Columbia Democrats are down in members, as are the Republicans.  Where, you may ask, are the strong political convictions for which our campus is known? The added security cameras should be the only answer you need! So grab your Little Red Book, put on your marching boots, and go outside. Share the lawn and enjoy the beautiful sky over our commune with your similarly-minded peers.  President Bollinger has declared that Columbia's colors will be changed from Blue to Red over the next week.

Indeed, Illustrious Bollinger has done it again! Even as he increases food rations and improves our electrical infrastructure, His Excellence plans to grace us with the undisputed honor of a loyalty rally!  Tomorrow, when you hear the Siren of Freedom, make sure you're wearing bright red (to be safe you may want to smear capitalist blood on your face) and emerge from your graciously provided rooms.  We can expect music, speeches, and with any luck, the signing of loyalty oaths.  The speeches are expected to last six to eight hours, but don't eat or relieve yourself beforehand, as this is strictly prohibited.  As always, anyone caught sleeping in the 20 hours preceding the rally will be disposed of - the chaff of our wheat!

When asked where the funds for this rally came from, The Divine President, Defender of the Industry Bollinger exhorted, "We've had the funds all along.  Now would you like some Coca-Cola Zero^TM? It just goes down so smooth."

Serendipitously, the only drinks available at John Jay cafeteria are Coca Cola products - what a fortunate coincidence!

Fostering community, the loyalty rally will be held on campus, where nobody from the outside campus will be able to come; the gates of Columbia, after decades of serving no function and remaining open at all hours, will close us off and free us! 

Free us of the obligation to "explore" the city; free us of worrying about those lustful Barnard women and their "feelings"; free us from the archaic capitalistic regime we stand against.

Though most of our goods are imported from that very regime, the Kind Provost has initiated a new work-study program.  All students who had a work-study off campus will now make use of all the fields - excluding the South Lawn - for agriculture.  Soon hopefully we will be able to satisfy our hunger with food grown by us, for us.

Tomorrow's theme will be sacrifice for the sake of progress.  The speeches will enumerate the manners in which we can individually progress our goal by implementing the three Rs, Reducing, Reusing and Reporting on our peers.

In the spirit of sacrifice, no chairs will be provided.  However, to boost morale, Bollinger will be brought out by an accompaniment of his loyal police force and the campus will be beautified as per his specifications.  The alabaster perfection of our glorious Low will be adorned with ruby tapestries, and the sight of the entire school displaying our new glorious color will recall the blood of an aged empire flowing as our revolution stomps its wrinkled head into the curb.