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The 432 Nov 8, 1995

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 To every complex problem, there is a simple
solution... usually wrong.
Wlad Turski
Volume 9 Number 5
8 November 1995
UBC Space Program
"UBG's planning for the 21st century!" claims Strangway.
Kilgore Trout and Gord Olundsky	
Roving Correspondents
Following the merging of the
departments of Physics and
Astronomy for the 1996/97
academic year, the Faculty of
Science announced the creation of
a new Program in Space Sciences
The new program to be specially
designed for individuals interested
in pursuing a career in space
Dr. David Strangway, President of
the University of British Columbia
is credited with much of the work
behind scenes necessary to establish the program. As former Chief
of Geophysics of NASA, Dr.
Strangway was in charge of the
Apollo moon experiments in the
late 1960's and early 70's. This
experience helped him develop
both the vision, and the connections required to make such an
ambitious program a reality.
Said Strangway of the new department:
"I see this as a real ground-breaking program. It has always been my
personal vision for UBC to develop
a program that readies the youth of
today for the trials of space travel
and research. I see the future of
humankind looking up - as we
deplete our natural resources here
on earth, we will have to look to
the heavens for alternative solutions. This program will be the first
of its kind in the world and it's
another example of how UBC is at
the leading edge of Science and
Technology. We're not only developing existing ideas, but moving in
completely new and exciting directions."
Strangway is also given much of
the credit for recruiting new faculty
for the program. Dr. Roberta
Bondar, former member of the
Canadian space program is scheduled to begin teaching Space
Physiology at the University next
academic year, although she will be
arriving at the campus in the middle of April 1996 in order to help
with the finalization of the program.
Dr. Bondar, who holds three PhD's,
will be teaching a number of the
fourth year courses (SPSC 403, and
SPSC 425,) as well as acting as an
advisor for all students in the program.
"I'm very excited to be a part of
the program. I see it as a great
example of how important interdisciplinary skills are. We seek to tie
together many diverse fields such as
biochemistry, physiology, geology,
chemistry, computer science, as
well as the obvious physics and
astronomy, and much more. Space
Sciences is a very broad area of
study. We hope to reflect that in
our curriculum."
Students in the new Space Sciences
program will be accepted from all
disciplines of Science and
Engineering, based on their current
grades and a personal interview
with the faculty. Spaces are limited
by discipline, so admission to the
program will be by competitive
application. Admission requirement
are expected to be extremely high,
especially for students transferring
from any of the life sciences, due to
the fart that there are only two
seats in the Space Sciences program
set aside for Biology majors.
EVWyrJi^E   T0f,eTr|tfc
MOW — flap yoWR   v^"*
AHMS '. 0K)r?/ WO1.
~TU?k W*
Quality control at Boeing's Seattle plant gone slightly wrong.
Application for UBC Space
Science Proaram
To apply for this exciting new program starting in
September of 1996, send a letter outlining your interests in
space research to the below address.
Applications are being accepted only from current UBC students in Science or Engineering. Candidates must be completing at least first year, and be willing to extend their
degree program to five years, at which time they will receive
a BSc in Space Sciences.
For further information, please contact Steve MacPherson at
Application deadline: January 30, 1996
c/o Dean of Science
University of British Columbia
6270 University Boulevard
Vancouver BC V6T 1Z4
SPACE SCIENCES Volume 9 Number 5
8 November 1995
Popular Nationalist Leader	
Blair McDonald
Ineffective Federalists	
Jay Garcia
John Hallett
Matt Wiggin
Campaign Material Courtesy of
College Printers of Vancouver BC
Political Correctness Advisor
Tessa Moon
Misguided Francophone Voters
Leona Adams, Anna Carvalho, Bella
Carvalho, Nicola Jones, Dave Khan,
Tracy MacKinnon, Donald Rhee,
Jeremy Thorp
The 432 is published by the Science
Undergraduate Society of UBC, from
our luxurious offices in the basement of the Chemistry Building.
All opinions expressed herein are
those of the individual writers, not
the Science Undergrad, Faculty of
Science or the University admin
types. Contributions are welcome
from all UBC students.
The 43Z and all material contained
within are copyrighted by the
Science Undergraduate Society,
1995 and may not be reproduced in
a public format without express
written consent.
8 NOV 1995
Coke is it? Not
bloody likely.
If there's anything we've all
learned over the last few
weeks, it's that "Coke is it!".
But what exactly is Coke? Is it the
wonder drink of all time, as the
ads would have us believe, or is it
a fluid best left to cleaning silver?
Personally, I'm leaning towards
the "silver cleaning" side, as I've
just finished my third Coke of the
hour, and my gut is telling me
exactly how clean and shiny it
really is.
Coke: carbonated water, glucose,
caramel colour, phosphoric acid,
natural flavours, and caffeine. A
simple mixture, right? But what is
caramel colour, and why has
caramel colour been chosen over
other perfectly drinkable colours
like mustard orange or neon
green? Must be part of some
grandiose marketing plan
designed to convince us that
caramel colouring is better than
all the others.
I'm rather suspicious of the
phrase "natural flavours". Natural
as in what, exactly? Natural as in
"natural, harvested from wild
plants in the middle of the
Amazon jungle" or natural as in
"natural, scooped from the
insides of old radial tires?"
After all, doesn't your mouth
taste like the inside of an old tire
after drinking a Coke?
And finally, phosphoric acid?!?
Isn't that the stuff your Chem lab
instructor warns you about?
Better play it safe, and switch to
other beverages, like Dr. Pepper.
Dr. Pepper: carbonated water,
glucose, caramel colour, natural
and artifical flavours, phosphoric
add, sodium benzoate, caffeine,
monosodium glutamate, and lactic
The Last Hurrah
for Donald the
Donald Rhee
As I head into the twilight of
my Halloween career I look
back at each October 31st
with fond memories. I have finally decided to retire, after having
been a circus clown for
Hallowe'en for the last seventeen
of twenty years.
While everyone was a ninja or
G.I. Joe during the eighties, I was
a clown. When everyone was a
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle or
Mighty Morphing Power Ranger
in the nineties, I was still a clown
and a very good one at that. I
have honed my craft.
I have the nose. I have the shoes
and mandatory big puffy hair. I
have the clown attitude. And a
mom to always puts on the makeup - big monster red circles on
the cheeks and a big one over the
mouth and a white mime-like
face paint with freckles.
Not even a bus can
kill him.
Dik Miller, Private Eye
Returns January 1996
Luckily, my grandmother made
the original outfit a little too big
so I wore it for a few years until I
grew into it. When it was obviously too small, she took it back
and added some and let out some
and patched it up again. So I've
managed to wear it every year.
A notable year was 1989, when
she extended the legs and I was
the only bell bottomed clown in
the western hemisphere. Maybe I
helped restart the recent resurgence in bell bottoms. Forgive
I think I've seen and done everything on my numerous- -———
Hallowe'en adventures. Bloody
Marys in an unlit washroom
(don't tell me you've never done
it) and graveyard strolls at midnight. Once a damp looking lady
in a somewhat small towel toga (I
think she had just taken a shower) gave me a Snickers Bar (kept
it) and another time a little old
lady gave me a chocolate lollipop
in the shape of E.T.'s rippley head
(chucked it fast).
I guess I'm just a little too old for
this now. Not to mention a little
less inconspicuous than I used to
be. I've noticed a few eyebrows
raised these last few years at the
sight of a six foot tall clown with
goofy looking bell bottoms asking
for candy. I guess this would
explain my diminishing returns
these last few years, compared to
my adorably cute cousin sidekick
who makes a killing every by saying a gap toothed "twick or
My sidekick gets showered with
goodies whereas I consider myself
lucky if I got a couple of
unwrapped gumballs and a sympathy smile. It only makes it
worse when she always gives me
some of her chocolate later. The
sympathy thing again.
So if you should have happened
to be giving out candy this hallows eve and a six foot tall clown
came a knockin' on your door,I
hope you were a pal and gave
him some good candy
And as this is the last hurrah for
Donald the Clown, I will also take
cash donations. 8 NOV 1995
Tracy MacKinnon
President of <he World
The deadline sure passes
quickly on these reports.
Before I even realize it,
I'm frantically typing to escape
the wrath of Blair. Hmmm,
what's been happening of
interest to science students?
Well, Bella Carvalho, our AMS
Rep was iold she could no
longer represent Science
because she works for the AMS
at Subcetera. However, other
AMS Councillors have worked
or do work for the AMS and
they have not been forced to
give up their AMS seats. The
SUS Council believed the
exclusion of Bella from AMS
Council to be unfair and an
uneven application of this
obscure hiring policy. So we
brought the matter to AMS
Council and drafted our own
Policy on Conflict of Interest.
The Code and Policies
Committee (AMS) is going to
look into the matter and draft
a new policy and our Executive
Secretary Orin is on the committee so we'll be fairly represented. Keep posted on this
The AMS is also planning on
publishing an Anti-Calendar
this year. The SUS had concerns on this because we
already publish the statistics
on science profs (in our
Summer 432, silly). The Dean
of Science's Office (who give us
the stats), at our request have
said they will not release the
stats to the AMS until reps
from all sides can meet and
reach an agreement. The AMS
just loves us right now.
We're having our Nothing
Ever Happens in November
Bzzr Garden on 10 Nov 95
from 4:32pm to 8pm in the
SUB Party Room. We'll be having karaoke, Drinking and
singing. Who would have
thought? Bzzr will be $1.25
and Sighder will be $1.75.
And, as an added bonus, you'll
have 3 whole days to recover
from your hangover.
Enjoy your long weekend (if
you don't have term papers
and midterms, that is)!
Ok. Let's get it straight. I'm am
not an ogre. I don't chain people
to chairs, and I don't threaten to
break their legs.
But every exec insists on saying t
do. It's tearing me apart inside. I
can't take the abuse... See page
seven for whatl'm talking about
Please just write the bloody
things. We're talking about five
minutes in front of a computer,
for cryin' out loud! And run the
%A*&% spell checker before you
walk away from it!
Love, Blair
The Scariest Thing of AIL
DISCLAIMER: This probably
belonged in the Hallowe'en issue,
but let me explain briefly by saying that dealing with the second-
scariest thing, an oral presentation of one's not-entirely-understood data, takes precedence over
writing about the scariest thing.
"The fictioneer labours under the
restraint of plausibility; his inventions must stay within the capacity
of the audience to accept and
believe. God, of course, working
with facts, faces no such limitation."
Donald Westlake
As it turns out, the scariest
thing is strongly correlated
with the happiest thing.
(Isn't the sidewalk the most lovely shade of gray today?) No, I'm
not on drugs. Those of you who
hypothesized a positive male
influence, however, can go to the
head of the class. Yes, Leona has
a boyfriend. Actually, I guess I
shouldn't call him that, since he
has a good six years on me- Jt's
strange how things changer* If I
was 15 and he was 21, this might
be a cause for some alarm. As it
is, all it means is that we've seen
most of the same shows, just that
he saw them before they went
into syndication. Besides, he
passed the Henson test. If he
were too old to watch Sesame
Street when it first came on, he
would be too old to date.
I guess I shouldn't start telling
the story in the middle, although
there really isn't that much to
tell. As fate would have it, we've
been interested in each other on
and off for a while, but neither of
us thought the other was interested (I used to think that kind of
thing only happened on t.v.
Who knew?). When the decision
was made to bite the proverbial
bullet, the question was more like
the Referendum question than
anything else: "If I were to
request your presence at a specific
venue in the near future with the
understanding that this outing be
in a romantic rather than a pla-
tonic context, what response
would be most effectively anticipated?" Luckily, after some deliberation, he said that he would be
receptive to such a concept, and
the rest is history.
Surprisingly enough, parents
aren't even the scariest thing,
although I always imagined them
to be. I was joking about how
funny it would be to present his
parents with the concept of a
"shotgun wedding". Somehow,
he felt that telling me this in
advance would make him an
accessory to murder, since he
knows that would kill them. At
the same time, if he told me he
was going to tell MY parents this,
I would be the accessory, but
because I know without a doubt
that my dad would kill him.
Assuming they could find a jury
of his peers (Overprotective
Fathers Anonymous, perhaps),
the case would get thrown out of
The scariest thing, for those of
you who have followed my train
of thought, is this: getting
whipped. Get your mind out of
the gutter: I mean losing my
independence. For someone who
was an only child and tends to
view herself as being fiercely
independent (as opposed to fierce
and independent), the concept of
someone calling every day, just to
say hi, is scary, and liking it is
worse. Becoming addicted, experiencing mood swings based on
contact with one person is, however, the scariest thing of all. And
there isn't anyone I'd rather experience it with.
What does this mean in the long
run? Will I lose the cynical edge
you've alt I've come to know and
love? Not bloody likely.
Transformations like the Grinch
on Christmas morning only happen in cartoons, boys and girls.
As a backup, I have a network of
trained snipers who have been
given explicit instructions to put
me down like a rabid dog if I turn
into a ballad-singing, poem-writing, friend-ignoring, matching-
shirt-wearing, "Sugarbottom"-
calling, work-neglecting type of
girlfriend. After all, what are
friends for?
Leona, we're all very happy for you.
But I'll recruit a few more snipers
just to be on the safe side, thank you
very much.
CALL SAFEWALK • 822-5355
Mon - Sat    5pm - 1 am
Sunday       5pm - 11pm
8 NOV 1995
cannabalism &
call forwarding.
I just got off the phone to my
parents. I'm really not much
of a phone guy; I'll talk on the
phone if there's no other option
(my parents live in Ontario, and
my voice isn't that loud,) but it's
not something I use by choice.
The only sense I get to use on the
telephone is hearing, which
severely limits my affection for it.
If someone calls, and I pick up
the phone, it could well be someone I just don't want to talk to.
Even call display can't guard
against this, (unless you're in the
habit of calling unloved ones,
and happen to know their numbers off by heart, in which case
you're an idiot and deserve anything you get.) At least when I see
them from far away, I can run
away, and I can check the peep
hole before I answer my door.
Besides being annoying, this
voice only thing is a little
unnerving. I can talk to my parents, and it sounds like it's them,
but really, I have no way of knowing if someone has kidnapped or
eaten them (cannibalism is on
the upswing in Ontario,) and
replaced them with robots. I
think I could tell if it was really
them if I could see them. No, I'm
not a coke head; any paranoia I
exhibit is psychologically rooted.
Still, we have special code words
we use, just so I'll know it's really
them when I call.
Besides contributing to my mental imbalances, having only one
sense involved with the phone
makes it much less personal.
There are good sides to this; people can't make you taste their
milk to decide if you think it's
gone bad, too, and when they
wake up Saturday morning, it's
kind of nice to just hear the
words "I'm sooo hungover" without having to smell them as well,
but it's also a disappointment. I
like being able to hug people
when I see them (a side note: it
should be socially acceptable for
men to hug, but that's a whole
story in itself,) and when your
friend tells you they just bought a
dozen donuts over the phone,
there's little chance they're going
to offer one, unless it's to be
mean. Finally, talking on the
phone is mutually exclusive with
having one's tummy rubbed; anything that gets in the way of a
tummy rub (other examples
include exploratory surgery, elec-
troshock therapy, and use of
firearms) is bad.
Further, this makes it awfully difficult for me to pay attention to
whoever I'm talking to. Look at it
this way: if I'm talking on the
phone, that requires only one
sense. That leaves four others plus
my other ear that can distract me.
Inevitably, I wind up staring out
the window (to see if the city's
still there, or if it happened and I
missed it,) eating, and colouring
with my new smelly crayons all
whilst trying to listen to Blair's
problems and offer him advice.
No system in that high an energy
state can last for long without
collapsing, and it's seldom long
before I'm eating the crayons and
not listening to Blair at all.
Hey! Listen, bud... the last thing I
remember was me listening to your
problems, not the other way around.
That's the last time you're getting
any help from me, loser!
What I need is virtual phones; I
need a little cable that comes out
of the wall that I can plug into
my head and feel like I'm talking
to a real person. I'd invent it, but
I'm not smart enough, and it
would be way easier for me to just
go and visit the person for real
instead, (except for those people
who live outside my building at
Gage. My solution there is called
not keeping in touch. Way easier.)
I guess what I'm saying here is I
love call answer; next time you
call, just leave a message. Maybe
I'll even call back.
News flash - eating smelly crayons
is not good for your digestion. If anyone's been wondering what's wrong
with Matt, look no further.
33 pounds of flesh coloured crayons
will mess up just about anyone.
1) Must be a team
under the Faculty of
Science unit
2) Pick up and com-
pfete rebate form
available at SUS
(Chem B160)
3] Return with copy
of registration form
and receipt
4} Must not default
from the league
5) Must return form
by the deadline:
Nov 24 at 4:32pm
6) Cheaue will be
available one week
after the event or
league has concluded
Registration for 2nd
semester Intramural
sports November
22nd & 23rd.
Info at SUS Sports
by Cord vo« MgQttivlsky
Mr. jackal, thanks far taking
time out of your busy schedule
to see us.
It's not like I'm going anywhere, now
is it? <gestures to leg irons>
But you'll be able to attend the
festivities at Science Week
1996, wont you? The Trike Race
just wont be the same without
you leading the pack.
No problem. I'll be out of here just
as soon as I can bribe a few prison
officials. Then a quick plane ride to
Canada, with its wonderfully lax
immigration policies.
shirt printing, and a spot in the
line for the Blood Donor Clinic.
Fair enough. I'll ever* bring a few of
my colleagues, and well ail give a
couple of pints of O positive.
And we'll trade those pints for
a pint at the Science Week
Dance. Or you can enjoy one of
the many Science Week b**r
Sounds great. Bat there's one event
I especially want to attend.
Which one? The CompSci Car
Good, good. We'll save you a    No, the Chemistry Magic Show. I've
fish for the famous Gyotaku t-    heard it's quite a blast.
January 199$
The Science Undergraduate
Society of UBC
CHEM B160 * 822-4235 8 NOV 1995
Nobody's Body but Mine.
In a stunning parallel to the
recent referendum, my liver
decided last Friday it would
like to separate from the rest of
my body. Arguing that, as the
centre for biosynthesis of my
entire body, it has special status
over the rest of my internal
organs and appendages, it came
to the conclusion that it would be
better off without us.
Of course, the rest of my body
thought this was outrageous —
how could the liver possibly survive without help from the nervous system and the other internal organs? Certainly it didn't
expect that, although separate, it
could still depend on support and
nutrition from the rest of my
body? The opinions of my lower
intestines were certainly clear —
if my liver was crazy enough to
leave, well, then, it would find
out the hard way what it was like
living without a blood supply or
nervous control.
Debate within my liver was
fierce — most of the cells seemed
uncertain of their future outside
the body, and it looked initially
like the liver would remain in its
place. The leader of the separatists — a rather large cell who,
although now mainly involved in
fat storage, had spent most of its
career absorbing and converting
large amounts of alcohol,
searched madly for a way to convince the rest of the liver cells
that their future was definitely
brighter outside the confines of
the rib cage. Late in the debate, it
seemed that it had found a perfect solution — a smaller fat storage cell, slightly damaged, but
nevertheless a gifted orator, who
could relate to the everyday liver
cell. Convincing liver cells that
there would be no negative
effects upon removal from the
body, the separatists began to
gain ground, and it looked as
Van Gogh had
the Right Idea.
Nicola Jones
What carries well? MEC
backpacks, though after
a long haul I beg to differ (probably on my knees by that
point too). A good Catholic girl, I
suppose. An innocent verdict.
The motion to cut tuition at
UBC, or to keep Canada united.
The inspiring "oh hell" of a frustrated first year in Hebb Theatre
staring at the first midterm, carried on waves of anxiety to the
back row...
So after all these tempting leads
into deeply meaningful moral,
political and just plain topical
issues, what the hell am I going
to harp on? The acoustics, naturally. Not that I'm in music, or
even remotely near it, but don't
you find it odd that some of the
most reverberant, resonance
inspiring, joyfully amplifying
areas of campus serve to bring
only curses and drunken eloquence to our ears?
Hebb, to begin, is an excellent
zone of sound suction. Walk in
the main doors and you've
instantly entered a wall-carpeted
hole of black matter that efficiently absorbs all sound waves
produced with the intention of
being heard. And not the ones
not intended to be heard. That's
the ingenious part. In fact, a
large majority of the larger "lecture halls" on campus do an
excellent job of masking the spoken truth behind chalk scratching
and foot shuffling, the mad
scramble of tiny gerbil feet headed for the back door, and lately
the lung-frightening hacking and
nose-torturing blowing, reducing
otherwise competent professors
to the age-old trick of illegible
silent scrawling, as first pioneered
by their more heavily-accented
Or think of Main Library, whose
piles of dusty graduate bones in
the stacks are not donations to
the med students, but are merely
the testimonial of those who
proved that screams for guidance
are pretty damn well absorbed by
a decade of unopened books and
Or take Sedgewick, where a few
dozen innocent card games can
transform even a another wall-
carpeted buffer into a deafening
buzz for your ears.
But more importantly, and more
beautifully, there exists the phenomenon of the residence stairwell. A triangular helix that not
only provides a magnificent suicide leap for the same first year
physics student discovering the
joys of Hebb, but a cosmic passageway for the calls of angels (or
the screams of falling ones), and
the smash of drunken glass as
someone tries to prove that Coors
light really does go down easy.
Every morning as I hurtle down
those stairs myself, my own
Tibetan cow bell dangling from
my own MEC pack blasts a melodious wake-up call and echoes it
for hours 17 floors and back.
Such sweet haven! (Everyone
though they might actually succeed in their one-way transplant
It was at this point that the rest
of my body began to panic.
Could they really survive without
the liver? What would the gallbladder do, separated from the
rest of the body by the sovereign
organ? What about the nervous
cells living within the liver —
surely they wanted to remain part
of me? In an attempt to maintain
bodily unity, cells from all over
my body staged rallies and
demonstrations, painting themselves liver-coloured, and singing
old liver folk songs. Some transport cells even offered discounted
travel to other cells which wished
to be carried to the liver to show
their support. Parts of the cerebral
cortex also offered free nervous
signal transmission to cells trying
to convince liver cells to stay. But,
was it all too little, too late.
The vote was held Saturday
morning, and I could feel the tension and unease throughout my
body, as my brain processed the
result. My head ached and my
stomach churned as I awaited the
verdict, watching the cell-count
fluctuate throughout the morning. Finally, it was announced —
my liver had voted, by a very
small margin, to remain a part of
my organ system.
I am still the owner of a (mostly)
functional liver - but for how
long? Will my body remain
together, or will one of my internal organs eventually reject the
rest of me like a kid rejects a
monkey's heart? I can only hope
that we can reach an agreement,
because I kinda like my liver. My
brain, well, maybe that I could do
without... but my liver? Now
that's important...
It's better than the one Jason found.
Dark blue, thick polar fleece
embroidered with SCIENCE UBC
Costs approx $65
Sign-up before Dec. 1 at SUS
(Chem B160)
Deposit required.
must love me.) And not that I'm
in music, or was even remotely
near it when that piano went
missing, but wouldn't it be great
to have one carried in and lodged
somewhere between floors 8 and
9, so I could wake at 6 and practice my scales for hours before
jingling off to class?
So when your ears are bombarded by the endless "Oui! Non!"
conundrum (it's not over yet...),
plugged by Axworthy or waxed
shut by OJ "humour", just carry
yourself through the halls of
UBC. Or then again maybe Van
Gogh had the right idea. PAGE ax
8 NOV 1995
«?? I &RCIA™
It's a conspiracy, I tell 'ya. It's a
conspiracy so secret that even
the conspirators themselves
have no idea that what they are
doing is part of a plan so fiendish
and hellishly devious, that its
originator might as well have
been Newt Gingrich (I would
have chosen Satan, but even he
avoids North America like the
plague these days). I speak, of
course, of that conspiracy which
causes students the world over to
tear out their hair, lose sleep,
speak in tongues, and gibber
incoherently at the mere thought
of <dramatic pause for effect here>
Christmas Finals!
Is there anything we can do to
thwart the evil? Yes! A little bit of
time management goes a long
way! You may think it's too early
for this, but, then again, it's never
too early to start tearing your hair
First off, get a computer. If you
don't have a computer then you
should beg, borrow or steal (well,
appropriate) one. If you have one,
make sure it's one of those ones
with tons of RAM, huge amounts
of hard drive space, and a really
spiffy monitor. Get a top-quality
joystick. You don't need to worry
too much about your keyboard,
as you're only going to be using it
to type one of two words: DOOM
Then, once your system is set
up, spend hours and hours playing either of the above mentioned games. Every once in a
while, log on to the Internet and
spend hours and hours wasting
your time "surfing the 'net". You
may even download newer, more
exciting / gruesome / cool games,
thus getting the most sloth-value
for your buck.
One week before your exam,
prepare a rigorous study schedule.
Make sure you plan your activities down to the last minute, and
be exacting in your detail. Then,
ignore it utterly. The purpose of
this is to make you feel guilty for
wasting your precious and ever-
diminishing time.
Four days before your exam,
turn off the computer, and halfheartedly thumb through your
textbook and notes. On no
account should you actually learn
anything. This is so that you can
get a clear and accurate idea of
how little of the course material
you actually understand.
Three nights before your exam
you should call up your friends
and bug them incessantly about
how badly you're going to fail
your upcoming exam. Try and get
as much sympathy as possible. If
you're lucky, they will regale you
with tales of how badly they are
failing their courses. This should
be good for killing an evening or
Two days before the exam, go
down to the SUB and look for an
AMS rep. Ask them if they need
help with any of their special projects. In the unlikely event that
they have nothing for you to do,
talk to them. Ask them about the
weather. See if you can get a
motion passed in Council to support the mating of bushy-tailed
One night before the exam,
rush down to the Blue Chip. Buy
a mocha and a marbleous. Go to
Sedgewick. Crack open your textbook and your notebook.
Actually read and study for, oh,
about ten or twelve minutes. Run
back to Blue Chip. Get some
chocolate-covered coffee beans.
Return to Sedge. Study for another ten to fifteen minutes. Go to
University Pharmacy. Buy some
caffeine pills. On the way back to
Sedge, stop off at the SUB and get
a coffee. Drop the pills in the coffee.
Return to Sedge and study until
Fri.Nov 10
State University of New York College
of Optometry will be here
12:30 - 1:30 •  Lecture in WOOD #4
1:30 - 2:30 • Question period in
Members Free
non-members: $ 1.00
they kick you out into the freezing darkness. Find an open
lounge and study until you're
forced to leave. Go to the lecture
hall where you will have the
exam and study there until morning, downing your coffee and caffeine pills as needed. Stay in that
room until you actually have the
midterm, regardless of what class
is being held there. Consider this
last activity as a kind of mental
emetic — an enema for the brain,
as it were.
And, after the first exam is over,
repeat the procedure until all
exams are over. Once that's done,
your work is complete, and you
can go off to find a nice, comfortable couch and fall asleep.
Preferably until a week before
A conversation with Jay that
almost happened the way I'm writing it:
Me: Jay, is your article done yet?
Jay: Yup, it's on the computer. But I
better warn you, it might be a bit
Me: <suspiciously> Exactly how
Jay: Oh, about 750 words, plus or
minus 400.
Me: <auickly performs complex calculation in head> Then, it's about
Jay: What?
Me: <resorting to calculator Then,
it's about 1150 words.
Jay: Right. Chop at will.
Me: <evil laugh> Ok.
So, I cut this article down to size by
simply removing the 'first 400 words'.
Oddly enough, the article still makes
perfect sense, even sans the first six
paragraphs, which leads me to
believe Jay never learned the Golden
Rule of English 120, which is "opening paragraph + body + conclusion",
not "ramble for the first 500 words,
ramble some more, and then tie it
all together with more ramblings,
plus an extra shot of rambling to
finish it off right."
But, then again, I suppose it does
mean Jay has learned the Golden
Rule of Writing for The 432.
November 8 • 3-7pm
Psychology Whyne & Cheese
Kenny Atrium
November 16* 12:30
Road to UBC Psychology Department
Dr. Janet Werker
Suedfeld Lounge, Kenny Building
Food Drive
Bring canned goods!
BPPr Garden
November 10th, 1995
SUB 205
4:32 -'till bppr's gone
tasty bppr = $1.00
Everyone welcome 8 NOV 1995
The Drawers of Science.
Anna Carvalho
Dave Khan
Public Relations
I shan't make this report too lengthy—in fact, I'll keep it pretty short
and dry (not quite as brief a Bella's infamous shorthand notes on
the EUS, though). You see, I wrote a simply fabulous report two
weeks ago, but the dragon known as Blair didn't deem it necessary to
put in the paper. <pout>.
She missed the deadline. Too bad.
Anyhoo, let's get to the business of the world of Public Relations:
1. United Way 50/50 Draw
Ticket sales are going very well. With each ticket sold, the pot goes up
which means of course that you should buy lots and lots of tickets—
you'll increase your chance of winning an even bigger prize! (can't
beat that reasoning, eh?)
2. VSB Mentorships
I've sent off the applications for this term. If you were meaning to get
yours, but just never got around to it, fear not—you can still apply for
next term.
3. Bork! Bork! Bork!
If you're in the mood for mindless gossip about people's personal
lives, or if you'd like to know about all sorts of things going on in
Science (or other constituencies) tune into 101.9FM Thursdays at 5
4. Intramurals Hockey Thingie
For those of you that expressed an interest in the Canuck Hockey
package, I'm sorry, but I still have no info. Mr. Intramurals-Man never
came back. (Steve, whoever you are, if you're reading this, please get
back to me!)
5. AMS
Various people were appointed to committees and working groups.
Orin is now on the Code & Policies Committee (yay!). Three
Councillors were appointed to the CiTR Board. And we decided that
our rear ends could handle 5 hour meetings, so the motion to have
meetings end by 10 p.m.failed.
Discussion of whether or not Bella, our Ex VP, should be allowed to
keep her Council seat or whether she's in a conflict of interest was cut
short as the issue was referred to Code & Policy, (yes, I
know that was a run-on sentence, but I don't care. And
I'm not going to run a spell-check, either, so there!)
Council also discussed how to increase voter turnout for
the January exec elections and the pot pourri of referenda. And, hey, I got another free AMS t-shirt.
I'm sure there's still much to report, but I'll leave it for
the next issue, as I have to run around the city now. (I'm
writing this a few hours before our Wine & Cheese, and
we just realized we forgot to order any cheese. Oops!)
See y'all at the Nothing-Ever-Happens-In-November Bzzr
Garden...join me as I take control of the karaoke
machine! Any requests?
Kirk's Archenemy
There isn't much interesting
happening in the land of
Senate these days. We are
going to try to get Senate to pass
a motion "encouraging" professors to release their exams to our
"new and improved" exam bank
at the Student Resource Centre
(SRC). Hopefully by next year
the exam bank will be bursting
with up-to-date exams that students can review as part of their
We also have a Senate Ad Hoc
Committee on Teaching
Evaluation which will be looking
into standardizing at least part of
the review forms for each department and faculty in the
University. Currently there are
large discrepancies between
departments and faculties—
Medicine has a review form the
size of the MacEwen report, and
Nursing supposedly has one question. Once these are standardized, it will pave the way for a
more functional, comparable
"Anti-Calendar" (for lack of a
new name).
For those of you unfamiliar with
this AMS initiative, it is a publication which will include teaching
evaluation statistics for departments around campus. It is similar to our "Guide", for all you
Science students who received it
in the mail last summer.
I am also on the President's
Advisory Committee on Space
Allocation (PACSA)—a long name
for a pretty useless (but interesting) committee. The other day
we spent an hour looking at
architectural plans and models,
and talking to the architects of
the new Earth Sciences Centre, to
be constructed on Main Mall on
the site of the Astronomy
/Geophysics building. It looks
amazing and is very environmentally friendly. One problem—no
funding as of yet from Victoria.
Hopefully soon, and it should be
built by 1999-2000. There are
many other interesting buildings
going up on Campus too, both
small and large.
On another note, the AMS's
University Commission conducted a "safety audit" last Thursday
night which went quite well.
Many safety discrepancies on
campus were identified and hopefully will be rectified. Also, we
are trying to collect 1000 signatures to force Council to hold a
Coke plebiscite during the Exec
elections in January. This will
simply let students vote on
whether to accept the Coke
monopoly deal in the SUB or not.
Democracy in action.
Bella Carvalho
Jay Garcia
External Vices
Babbling happily about nothing.
nyhoo...in the world of the AMS this week...The Halloween
Trick-or-Treat food drive went well. Thanks to all of you who
Lhelped out! They collected lots of food, with one generous person donating hundreds of jars of Baby food!
As you've all probably noticed, they've started their campaign for the
referendum, coming up in January. The questions presented will be
regarding the initiation of a child-care bursary fund, and the re-allocation of the $7 athletics fee. (This last one is not an increase in fees. It
is a re-distribution of fees already being paid). More details about this
can be found from any of your friendly AMS reps, or up in the AMS
As for my council seat, it's still in question...stay tuned for further
As for other constituencies...well,
nothing is really going on in any
other constituencies that I knew of
by the time Blair chained me to
this seat and forced me to write
this article. But Commerce is still
Can I go now, Blair? Please?
C'mon...nobody reads these anyways. CanIcanIcanL..ow!
"owdy neighbors! This episode of the Internal VP report is
brought to you by the letter E, and the number 11. Well,
.there's tonnes upon metric tonnes of stuff going on at SUS. By
the time you read this, we will have held our annual Wine and Cheese
last Friday. With the possible exception of the failed coup by one of
the execs, the evening was rather copacetic. If only that could be said
for the rest of the upcoming events in SUS. Pretty soon, I'll be doing /
assisting with the upcoming teaching review (something which
should have been done earlier, if it hadn't been for the mid-season
replacement thing). And FYC is going great guns, and boy, you know,
members are still welcome. So any of you frosh out there, feel free to
join the FYC. It's loads of fun. Heck, you might actually get to play
Twister with David Duchovny
next year, during Science Week!
(well, I wouldn't hold my breath,
though, and if he comes, whatever you do, don't call him Mulder.)
But, since there's a dearth of better and funnier stuff in this week's
paper, I'll cut short my rant. If
you really want to find out what
going on, come on by Chem 160
sometime and talk to me (look for
the short guy wearing a Science
hat reclining on one of the
™ 1995, 96 Science
Undergrad Society. All use
of RBF, Radical Beer
Faction, or any close
approximations of the
above requires the written
consent of the Science
Undergrad Society of UBC. PAGE EIGHT
8 NOV 1995
Time and the Poodle Factor.
Time is such an interesting
concept. Physicists would
have us believe that it's linear, but I'm sure that we all can
think of an example where this
wasn't so. Take, for example, the
time that my mother walked in
on me, the high school cheerleader squad, thirty gallons of
bulk strawberry flavoured
Vaseline, and a very confused circus midget armed with a camcorder.
The main question is why does it
move so slow in such a situation?
And why does it move so fast
when you're drunk and in the
company of several underage
blondes of Swedish origin? (But
your honor, everything happened
so fast!)
So what I've concluded is that
time really isn't linear at all. Now,
I realize that all you physics
majors out there are groaning
and about to flip the page, or
even worse, re-read Stephen
Hawkings A Brief History of Time
to disprove me. Well don't,
because I'm positive that propagation of time in our universe is
governed by the locality of the
time event. Given this, it's understandable why time progresses in
a linear fashion in or near physics
laboratories: nothing fun or
embarrassing ever happens there.
(With the distinct exception of
the creation of a few good batches of non-Newtonian fluid.)
Let's theorize for a bit. We have a
test subject, for lack of a better
name, let's call her Kelly.
Kelly experiences an event a,
which occurs at some point a* in
the space-time continuum. Kelly
also experiences a subsequent
event B, which occurs at some
other point p* in the space-time
What I'm claiming is that the
time path from a* to S* is not
only alinear, but also dependent
on the relative inebriation of
Kelly (Lab results show blood-
alcohol too limited a measure)
and her proximity to her birth
A neutral observer may report
Kelly's transition from a* to B* to
be entirely linear, but even
Einstein stated that the measurements taken by an observer will
differ from those taken by the
subject. (Whether or not this had
anything to do with the subject's
inability to operate a stopwatch
remains to be seen.)
My theory is that the time path
traveled by Kelly may not only be
alinear, but also involved transdi-
mensional shifting in order that
she maybe perceive her arrival at
P* to have occurred in less time
than a neutral observer states.
It is logical that if Kelly were
maneuvering herself in a two or
even three dimensional time
space, she may perceive a longer
time path than a neutral observer.
However, this doesn't account for
her perception of arriving at p*
earlier then perceived by our
loyal observer. She seems to have
traveled between a* and p* without visiting all the points in-
between. This may be possible in
higher dimensions past R6 (three
dimensional time), but it is more
likely that Kelly was existing in
R5 and somehow slipped between
parallel dimensions on different
time lines. (Since the amount of
energy needed to pass to R's higher than 5 would require a few
more calories than are contained
in 3 vodka paralysers.)
This answers the question of
traveling through time faster
than observed, but what about
instances where time seems to
slow down?
My claim is that the length of
the time path traveled by Kelly
varies inversely with the dot-
products of her parental vector, R-
space inebriation projection, and
some constant P. I have recently
discovered that P varies directly
with the vector in R3 to the nearest leather clad shaven poodle.
Thus I have named this variable
the Poodle Factor.
The R-space inebriation projection is simply an estimate of the
intoxication of the subject. I have
found that alcohol produces a
severe R-space projection, and
even some local space-time distortions consistent with large
gravimetric fields. This sheds
some light on the disorientation
and nausea commonly associated
with extreme alcohol intoxication.
Given these field results, it is
easy to project them onto the
proposed time path alteration.
But enough of the heavy math.
While inter-dimensional phasic
flux may seem an intriguing
explanation for drunkenness, I
feel (from recent experience) that
it's important to stress that this is
a new theory and won't hold up
in court... yet.
So now you've seen my theory.
You've seen my reasoning. You've
seen evidence of my math. Now
it should be clear that what I purpose is obviously the truth.
Or maybe not, but heh, it sure
makes good conversation to confuse people in Arts.
Nothing Ever Happens in November


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