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In This Issue

• Letter From the Editor
• They Watch
• Alcohol.edu Valedictorian Gets Schwasty
• Student Spots Celeb and Doesn’t Flip a Shit; Friends Doubt Her Sanity
• Columbia College First-Year Picks Worst Chair in Classroom
• Columbiascopes
• Class Clown’s Unexpectedly Well-Conceived Joke Falls Flat in LitHum Class
• Tweets of the Week
• Black Friday: A Nocturnal Dad In The AM
• The First Danksgiving Miracle
• Santa Claus is actually Jewish
• What Do You Think?
• “A Rugrats Chanukah” Cures Anti-Semitism
• The Yellow Term Paper
• #ivyleagueproblems
• If You Tweet in the Forest, Does it Make a Sound?
• New Elder Scrolls Game Released “For Nefarious Pro-Capitalist Agenda,” Crackpot Says
• Dance for me, Millie
• How to Increase the Utility of Your Bathroom When You're Shitfaced
• Adventures on DateMySchool.com
• Decoded
• Ask Mark
• Heart2Heart “Facebook Official”
• Reviews of Movies We Haven't Seen Yet: Jack and Jill
• “American Horror Story” is Actually Crazy
• “Dance Moms”: Small Girls, Big Hair

NEW YORK, NY This Monday, November 14, 2011, 5:41PM EST., well known attention whore Mike Dominica made a truly insightful joke for the first time in his career as a class clown. At precisely 5:42PM EST., Mike’s incredibly joke was received with a painfully awkward silence. It was at that point that Mike began to reevaluate his worth as a human being.

“It must’ve been lost on them,” said Mike, who owns at least 13 very unfunny t-shirts. “I don’t even know what to do anymore.”

“Don’t expect me to joke in that class for a long time.”

That’s a fucking lie if you know Mike. And that same fucking lie is why Mike’s intelligent jokes are usually met with a deafening, humiliating silence. 

Bill Fredo, professor of Humorology at the University, thinks that Mike’s flop was probably due to the fact that he has no filter and says every fucking thing that enters his mind, regardless of its worth or meaning in the grand scheme of things. 

This kind of reputation often hinders many class clowns as they become an aggravating presence rather than someone who brings a light-heartedness to otherwise dull LitHum classes. 

“His career probably started in first grade when Mike ran into a goal post during a soccer game at recess,” speculated Fredo. “Although the pain was excruciating, he acted as though he were blissfully unaware of his horrific pain, and humorously shrugged like an idiot. It was a riot! Students and Recess Aids alike were hysterical with laughter as Mike’s stinging sweat burned his increasingly bloodied head. Now you see, he thought he was actually funny, and so, sympathy laughs turned to silence, silence turned to scorn. This is a perfect example of what we Humorologists like to call Accidental Class Clown Syndrome. I actually write quite a bit about it-”

Shut the fuck up, nobody gives a shit, Bill.

Mike’s career as a Class Clown took a turn for the worse this September after entering Columbia University. He began to post stupid attempts at dark humor on the Official Class of 2015 Facebook Page, where he quickly gained the reputation of being a politically incorrect moron rather than a witty observer of larger social trends. 

But poor, brain-damaged Mike was under the impression that people actually frequented the page (seriously, like 12 people viewed the page ever). 

Classmates agreed with this interpretation of Mike’s poor taste in humor.

“Mike is kind of annoying, yeah,” said classmate Tom McDonald. “Most of his jokes come off pretty awkward, like, they’re kind of embarrassing.”

“I mean I’m sure he’s a nice guy but, honestly, who the fuck would want to get to know him?”

A popular theory on ACCS advocated by widely-renown Humorologist Mark Millon—wait.

Seriously? Another one? Fucking...ok.

A popular (using that word loosely) theory on ACCS advocated by Humorologist Mark Millon is “The Grandparent Theory”. “

The theory suggests that grandparents are often responsible for encouraging ACCS. Through seemingly benign words of support like, “my grandson is so funny”, or “watch out, he’s the next Johnny Carson”, or “only through my preoccupation with his shitty attempts at humor am I able to momentarily forget that Death’s cold hand is slowly shepherding my soul towards eternal damnation.” 

He’s just an asshole. Mike, that is. His grandpa was probably an asshole too. 

“My grandparents always thought I was funny,” says Mike, “I never questioned it though.”

See? Asshole.

“The joke itself made light of a particular passage in the reading that had been hotly debated for half an hour,” commented Fredo. “The joke was delivered in a slightly sarcastic tone while the tone implied that it was meant to be taken lightly, playing well to the professor’s irritation with the class and the students’ frustrations that they were arguing over one seemingly irrelevant quote.”

“Hell, the joke was not only relevant but entirely contextual and its retelling would be an incredibly difficult task. If he had been successful in his delivery, he would have instantly formed rapport with the rest of the class, easily enabling him to strike up conversation with his choice of the cute girls outside of the classroom.”

“It’s just unfortunate that Mike was the one to make the joke.”

“I guess it’s ok. I mean I could always just be a humorologist,” said a morose Mike. “It doesn’t seem to take any skill.”

Fuck you Mike.