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In This Issue

• Spec: Spectador to close due to insufficient funding
• Spec: Alfred Lerner Hall purchased by Apple
• Spec: Columbia to annex East Prussia
• FEDBASH
• Emo-Kid? More like Elmo-kid. Communist!
• The Complete Idiot's Guide to Tactlessness
• Top 11 Things to Do At Columbia (Fed Edition)
• Roaree Roars and Millie Whores
• The Colombia Daily Spectador (The Fed Version)
• Spec Sports: Gay wrestling, the new ice breaker?
• Spec: Bollinger's Journal, April 1st 2009
• Spec: Jody's Droppings
• Spec: Acceptance letter for class of 2013
• Passover and Easter: A Numbers Game
• Relax, It's Only a Movie
• You Haven’t Seen War Until You’ve Seen it Through the Eyes of a Basement-Dwelling Teenager
• The Fed Within A Pie Graph
• Clothes Hipsters Wear
• THE FED has this to say
• They Watch
• The Staff

Andres Vedova

Used condom in trash bin this morning, leaking its loathsome contents. This University is afraid of me; I have seen its true face. The academic building hallways are extended gutters, and the gutters are full of bullshit, and when the drains finally clog with all the bullshit, all the vermin will drown. The accumulated filth of all their cheating and partying will foam up about their waists and all the hyper-competitive grade-grubbers and narcissistic New Jersey preps will look up and shout "teach us!"

And I'll look down and whisper, "no."

They had a choice, all of them, they could have followed in the footsteps of earnest students who sought to learn, like we used to have, or at least had true political consciences, like those protesters in the 60's... Decent students, who believed in a day's work for a good grade, who didn't just hope to ride the curve while they sat in their dorms getting high all day. Instead they followed the droppings of hipsters and hedonists, and didn't realize that trail led over a precipice until it was too late. Don't tell me they didn't have a choice.

Now the whole university stands on the brink, staring down into bloody hell, all those identity groups and protesters and fornicators... And all of a sudden, nobody can think of anything to say.

I slept all day, awoken at 4:37, Dean Michele Moody-Adams complaining about smell. She has five children by five different fathers. I am sure she cheats on welfare. Soon it will be dark.

Beneath me, this awful university, it screams like an abattoir full of retarded children. Especially CC... Columbia.

On Friday night, a break began at Columbia. Somebody knows why. Down there... Somebody knows. The dusk reeks of fornication and bad consciences. I believe I shall take my exercise.

First visit of evening fruitless. Nobody knew anything. Tuitions completely wasted. Feel slightly depressed. This university is dying of rabies. Is the best I can do to wipe random flecks of foam from its lips?

Never despair; never surrender. I leave the human cockroaches to discuss their recent conquests and favorite youtube videos. I have business elsewhere, with a better class of person.

Meeting with former provost Alan Brinkley left a bad taste in mouth. He is pampered and decadent, betraying even his own shallow, liberal affectations. (Possibly homosexual? Must remember to investigate further).

Dean of Student Affairs Schollenberger just as bad. A flabby failure who sits whimpering in his office.

Why are so few of us left active, healthy, and without personality disorders? The last Dean of CC runs a think tank. The last Dean of Student Affairs is a bloated, aging whore, dying in a comfortable emeritus position. My predecessor is in an asylum up in Maine. Butler died after 40 years of service, with nothing to show for it but his name on a library whose stacks are lewdly defiled daily.

Frat Row: little red cups furtively and futilely concealed by flushed partygoers lounging on the stoops. Was offered NYU love and Pace love... But not Columbia love. Columbia love, like coke in green glass bottles... They don't make it anymore.

In the dorms, the halls have emptied. Nobody stirs because nobody has cared to stay. They have abandoned this place for their decadent vacations where they will pollute themselves and others and not study a read a single word of their Lit Hum books. Now they'll never understand the classical foundations of civilization which are so important in daily life. Spring break has begun.

Best to treat it like a joke. See the cracks in academia, the little men with PhDs trying to hold it together... See the true face of the twenty-first century, and choose to become a reflection, a parody of it. Heard a joke once: Philosophy professor goes to councilor, says he's depressed, says area of study seems ultimately futile, intellectual masturbation. Councilor says "treatment is simple. Great lecturer Rosenfeld in town tonight. Go and see him. That should pick you up." Man bursts into tears.

Says, "but doctor, I am Rosenfeld."
Funny joke.
Everybody laughs.