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The 432 Feb 7, 1996

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 Campus Safety
» Bus Kills Three!
"But seven people made it safely and on time!"
VOL 9 • NO 9
7 FEBRUARY 1996
Jacques Q, Flbble
QUOTE OF THE WEEK
When the revolution comes,
I will be shot by both sides.
anon
UPCOMING
No Class Bash
February 16 • 4:32pm
SUB Partyroom
SUS Elections
INGREDIENTS
Soft porn, ready to serve
Win a The 432 t-shirt
contest
33 elephants, blended
The decline of the Roman
Empire explained
Powered entirely by
Instabeer™
Roving Correspondent
As part of a new improved
effort to increase safety on
campus, UBC has added a second security bus to augment the
safety services provided by the existing bus. Stops at major points on
campus are now scheduled, presenting a severe punctuality problem for
the new driver, Otto.
"Yeah, sometimes I push the old
girl faster than she should go, but
what are you supposed to do? These
people are, like, in danger, man!"
stated Otto.
The speed increase was benevolent
until it turned deadly last Thursday.
Four undergraduate students were
returning from a night of drinking
and pool at Koerner's Pub when the
new safety bus suddenly appeared
from the darkness and struck three
of them down, killing them instantly.
The only survivor, Stu Grimsley,
commented:
"When you think about safety
issues on campus, you normally picture a thug hiding in the bushes
waiting to take your wallet. You
don't think about 10 tonne messengers of death careening through the
night Without their headlights on.
"But I guess it's a vital service that
people need, I mean, how are you
going to get home from the library
at 11pm? Walk? This incident alone
shows how stupid we were to try."
A complaint has been filed with
Plant Operations about the burnt-
out headlights on the bus at their
new burnt-out light email hotline
lightsout@plantops.ubc.ca.
According to available information
on the service, the bus' headlights
should be repaired sometime within
the next 14 days.
In a rare press release, the campus
crime syndicate, The Guys in the
Bushes, came out in favor of the new
security bus.
"The new bus is great. Most of our
members have stopped carrying
knives 'cause we just don't need
them to take wallets from dead people. We feel safety on campus has
increased accordingly, and are looking forward to a prosperous future.
Especially since the new bus has a
published stop schedule."
"We are aware of the problem, and
are taking measures to fix it." Stated
Richard Dawes, spokesperson for the
Security Bus service. "For starters,
the old bus has been fitted with
stretcher racks and an on-board IV
unit. But as far as qualified staff
goes, well, the students will have to
administer first aid to themselves. It
shouldn't be too hard since we are
supplying relevant instruction
guides."
To combat damage to the new bus,
it is being fitted with a iron cattle
grill to push victims to the side
before they bounce up and break
the windshield as the last three did.
"It's soooo cool. Now all I need is a
black flame job and a 500 watt
stereo to make it the Safety Bus
From Hell." commented Otto,
"Maybe a loudspeaker, too. Yeah,
that'd rock. I'd be like Mighty
Mouse: 'Here I come to save the
daaaaaaayyyyyyyy...'"
Officials refused to comment on
Otto.
Cupid
Arrested!
Donald Rhee
Cellular phones.
Roving Correspondent
A tragic event unfolded in front
of the SUB early yesterday
evening as RCMP officers,
aided by ERT members quickly
apprehended and arrested Cupid,
the God of Love. Cupid was (aught
in the act of impaling two students
with arrows over a shared slice of
cafeteria pizza when law enforcement officers stormed the SUB. They
were acting on a tip from a recently
dumped boyfriend.
According to witnesses at the scene,
Cupid was unable to leave earlier
due to miscommunication between
Cupid and the getaway chariot driver Hermes. Hermes is still at large,
and is described as "god-like, wearing only a toga and having feathers
on both ankles."
According to witness Elizabeth
Sunn, there was a struggle between
Cupid and police after Cupid
attempted to fly out of the SUB
"using his cute little wings" Instead,
he comically flew straight into a
clear glass window which rendered
him semi-conscious.
He was taken into custody after a
brief struggle when several police
officers disabled him with the use of
pepper spray and tazers.
"He's tougher than he looks." said
one police officer at the scene.
Another added that "he likes to
bite," as the chubby suspect was led
away in shackles.
Charges of gross indecency in a
public place for Cupid's trademark
nude exhibitions and a weapons
charge for carrying an unlicensed
bow and arrow are pending at this
time. Each charge carrying a maximum sentence of five years.
Justifying the arrest of such a popular icon, prosecutors and law
enforcement officials claimed that
the arrest of Cupid was good for
society's sake because "you can't
have little naked people running
around sticking arrows in people."
Student outcry has been critical of
the authorities for their lack of emotion and compassion in arresting
the mythical God of Love. With students unable to depend on Cupid's
magic arrows for love this upcoming
Valentine's Day, students have
rapidly bought up all remaining
"The Far Side" and "Calvin and
Hobbes" texts from the Bookstore in
order to develop the much-coveted
but perhaps over-rated "sense of
humour" characteristic that annually tops the "What I Wish Most from
a Partner" lists.
UBC Engineers are reportedly hard
at work trying to duplicate Cupid's
love process but have had difficulties keeping the arrows from sticking into people without drawing
blood or from going completely
through them. Results have been
varied, with most test respondents
reporting feelings of extreme pain
and discomfort rather than the
trademark feelings of desire and
ecstasy after being impaled.
"It's truly a complex process,"
remarked engineer Tony Brandner,
"so it'll be difficult to make love for
awhile yet." The trial date has still
to be determined PAGE 2
H       E
4
2
Feb 7,1996
Sink or swim, dsiyZ
J
G
>«A
^'"l&RCIA"
I should be used to this by now.
I'm twenty, which means I'm
twice as old as MTV, or four
times younger than Dick Clark,
however you want to look at it. I
was there when the Transformers
first showed up on TV, and I was
there when the series got discontinued — and then again when
the series got resurrected as
Transformers: Generation II
(which, by the way, really sucked,
although the toys are way more
neato-keen). The circumstances
between these periods may have
varied, but I didn't tend to. Or so
I thought. Recent chaos has
made me re-evaluate this belief.
I've discovered that my life isn't
just getting weirder as I get older.
It's getting crappier as well.
Silly me. Here I was thinking
that things could remain the
same. You know: lost, muddled,
and confused. If you really think
about it, things haven't changed
that much from last year to this
one. Well, with the exception
that, last year, the ground wasn't
covered in that white powdery
stuff which instantly compacts
underneath your feet into a surface only slightly less frictionless
than Teflon. Rather it was
drenched in that wet squishy
stuff that gets blown by the wind
down your collar and soaks your
socks as it travels upwards from
your shoes. But everything else
remains constant.
So why shouldn't life remain
pretty much invariant? All this
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change is confusing. I mean,
right about now, it's as if my life
were one bad cliche after another.
You need an example? How
about "dumb as a post"? Picture
this. Eleven A.M., Wednesday
morning. One of the crummiest
days I've had in a long time.
There I am, sitting at the computers at SUS, when Tony walks in.
He says that there's some
Chemistry people who want to
talk to me outside. Now Tony's an
engineer, and I'm aware that I
could be tanked at any time
before the end of E-Week, and it
takes at least four engineers to
grab a person in order to take
them to a tanking. So what do I
do? Go out after him, and find
out what's going on. Which ends
up with me being hoisted onto
their shoulders, dragged down to
the Aquatic Center and getting
tossed in off the deep end. With
my clothes on. Splash. (By the
way, Alex and Paul, thanks very
much for letting me use the
dryer.)
If you really consider it, change
is also terribly irritating. For
example, here I was, finally getting used to being single, then I
thought I might end up being not
single. But things ended up differently, and so I'm single again.
Whatever. By the time the entire
thing was done with, not only
did I feel crummy, I needed a
playcard to keep track of what
had happened to whom at which
time. Speaking of bad cliches,
soon thereafter, I was consoled
with the old chestnut about there
being "more fish in the sea." I
must have heard this one at least
half a dozen times in under two
hours. Yeah, right. Whatever. Tell
this to a guy who's been single for
far too long. More fish in the sea?
Where? The only fish I see
around me are other single guys
trying to console themselves with
the bloody fish cliche. I must be
swimming in the wrong body of
water. Maybe I should be playing
in a different ocean entirely. Hey,
if I'm lucky, maybe the Engineers
will toss me in one.
Splash. Happy Valentines, everybody.
Jay Garcia moonlights as a professional clown, entertaining the people
of Vancouver with his lighthearted
cheer and good humour.
Volume 9 Number 9
7 Feb 1996
Resigned to the feet there's still
three more %&%$ issues left.
Blair McDonald (btairmcd@uriixg)
Awaiting their turn at bat	
Jay Garcia
John Hallett
MattWiggin
Contributors
Doug Beleznay, Anna Carvalho,
Bella Carvalho, Fahreen Dossa,
Steve Fukuda, Taryn Iker,
Nicola Jones, Tracy MacKinnon,
Kathryn Murray, Donald Rhee,
Jeremy Thorp
Etcetera	
The 482 Is published by the
Science Undergraduate Society
of UBC. 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 432 is copyrighted by the
Science Undergraduate Society,
1995 and may not be reproduced in a public format without express written consent.
Violaters will be digitized and
posted to Usenet. Feb 7,1996
T       H
E
3       2
PAGE 3
first Column.    The Thirteenth
Fahreen Dossa
Social Coordinator
Sigh, 'nother Science week
come and gone. My but time"
does fly when you turn your
back for a week! (or more) But
that's another story. (And I'm too
tired to try and tie it all together,
so it's gonna have to stay that
way.) On to the other story. That
is the one that was the other in
"another"....that is, the one that I
started with and the one that
came before the other, I mean the
another ...I mean the one
that...oh darn it all! Just ON!
Let's see, now where was my train
of thought. Ah...other, another,
mumbo jumbo, time, flying, flying torpedoes??, science,, dance,
week, party, ....ah yes the
DANCE!!! How could I forget?
Let's see, the Science week
dance...
The Science Week dance
occurred on Friday Jan. 26th.
(That's what I meant by time -
doesn't that seem like forever
ago?) As some certain people
commented, it was.....well, a
blast. Personally I think the
dance rocked because the Butt
Monkeys were so...interesting.
But let's not get personal. In a
more general sort of sense, it was
quite the night and for all of you
who just couldn't make it.., well I
feel for you. Really, I do. Now,
you might think I'm just saying
that, but I happen to be someone
who cares if you miss out on a
good time. I bet I know what you
must be thinking. You must be
thinking that all this talk is just
to help me fill up space in my
report. Well you're absolutely
right! Err...I mean wrong of
course. You're wrong, DEAD
wrong. Why would I want to fill
up space? You must be thinking
too much. In fact, you must be
thinking so much that you must
be thinking that I must be thinking that you're a complete moron
if I think you'd actually fall for a
line with the words "I care".
Arrrggggh! Even I'm lost now.
Enough thinking already! My
head hurts. Alex, where's that
Tylenol? Ah, there...good, thanks
my lil' Al. I knew you'd come
through. Just a sec. I need to
find some water. Don't go away -
background shuffle as Fahreen
tries desperately and without success to find some drinkable water
in SUS while Alex swiftly takes
over the computer>
WE NOW INTERRUPT THIS STUNNINGLY WELL-DRAFTED REPORT (IF
YOU'D EVEN BE SO GENEROUS
AS TO CALL IT A FULL
REPORT...MORE LIKE A LOAD
OF...ERR...UMM....TALK) FOR A
QUICK COMMERCIAL BREAK:
TO EVERYONE ... YOU ARE (CORDIALLY IF YOU REALLY WANT, AND
in a state of drunken stupor more
NATURALLY) TO ONE CERTAIN NO
CLASS BASH TO BE HELD IN ONE
CERTAIN SUB PARTYROOM ON
ONE CERTAIN FEBRUARY AFTERNOON. THAT'S FEB. 16TH FOLKS,
SUB PARTYROOM, JUST LIKE I
SAID. SO COME ONE OUT AND
GET DRUNK...ER,   1 MEAN HAVE
A GOOD TIME FOR THOSE NOT
FAMILIAR WITH THIS COMMONLY
(MISGUIDED? - COULDN'T TELL
YAJ SYNONYM. OH YEAH, AND
DON'T FORGET - RUMOUR STILL
HAS IT THAT KARAOKE WILL BE —
What the ? (A somewhat disgruntled Fahreen returns from her
mishaps and adventures with the
Tylenol, and glares at her right hand
woman...who promptly proceeds to
inform the absentminded SoCo that
she's forgotten to mention Ihe most
important thing of all in her
mumbo-jumbo'd report. ..the NO
CLASS! Arrrrrgggghhhhhh, et
...rightAlex, justgettin'to
that...Fahreen is quieted at once and
resumes her report with a new determination)
Oh yeah folks...I'm just about to
get to the most important thing
on the agenda....now, without
further thinking (my headache's
finally subsided, thank goodness),
and it's time to announce that sus
presents:
THE NO CLASS BASH...PREPARE
TO PARTY LIKE YOU'VE NEVER PAR-
TIED BEFORE ... AN EVENT NOT
TO BE MISSED...NOT BY ANYONE
WHO'S ANYONE ...AND IF YOU
PLAN TO GIVE ME THE LAME
EXCUSE THAT YOU WERE TOO
BUSY GETTING-DRUNK TO SHOW
(not to mention any names or anything, Norm) ...YOU'RE GONNA
HAVE TO PUT UP WITH MORE
ARTICLES LIKE THIS
ONEIIIIIIIIIimill Just a friendly
warning...
Contrary to popular belief, Fahreen
Dossa and Alex Gosden are not
actually two individual people. The
two them form only 2/3 of the
gestalt inhabiting a strapping 6ft
3in lumberjack named Frank.
Monkey.
Steve Fukuda
If
Professional Doomsayer
Vie movie "12 Monkeys"
opens with a quote, allegedly made by an inmate at a
mental institution in 1990. It
sounded something like this: "On
December 26, 1996, plague and
madness shall engulf
mankind...etc.and the animals
shall rule the earth once again."
They even said which hospital it
was that this fellow resided at, so
I decided that some guy out there
actually said this, and that it wasn't a made up quote. Next thing I
know, the movie plays out this
quote at great length, and I, being
the quasi-abnormal person I seem
to be, began to hope that this was
going to be for real!
It's a sure bet that the day you
start to think that what you see
on the screen is really happening
somewhere, or will happen, or
has already happened, is the day
you have lost touch with reality.
I'm sure you'd be considered a
nice person despite that. But
when you start hoping that something on-screen is actually going
to happen, and it just so happens
to involve the deaths of 5 BILLION people...(insert helpless,
half-hearted chuckle)...then
you're just a really sick bastard.
Since when was the last time a
doomsday prediction ever came
true anyway? And why is
Doomsday always so conveniently timed? Doomsday, coming to a
planet near you on January 1st,
1000! Doomsday, back by popular
demand! Watch for it! January
1st, 2000!
Why not March 4th, 1924? Why
is it that Doomsday never actual-
PSYCHOLOGY FORMAL AT
RAMADA RENAISSANCE HOTEL
DJ, dancing, pianist
lots of door prizes
$46 for members, $48 non- before
Spring Break
$48 and $50 after Spring Break
TJX FROM PSA OFFICE
UBC PERSONAL
COMPUTER CLUB
Thursday Feb 8 • Dr. Meech "Fuzzy
Logic and Expert Systems"
Upcoming DOOM Tournament &
field trip to Microsoft on Feb 22
http://www.ams.ubc.ca/clubs/
special/pcclub/pcclub.htm
ly happens? WHYYY?
The hype is overwhelming.
We're told that the Big One is
going to hit Real Soon. We're told
that we're just in an interglacial
period, and that those ice sheets
are on their way to shake us out
of our pitiful complacency in a
mere 50,000 years. "Quick, get
the kids in the Winnebago! No,
forget the valuables! We've gotta
get outta here now, dammit!
Those glaciers'll be here any
minute now!" With all this hype
about the end of the world, you
really can't blame anyone for
hoping that it might actually
happen.
What would it be like? People
screaming madly, shrieking in
abject terror, tidal waves blasting
through the Rocky Mountains
and washing across the central
provinces, power going out in
every part of the world simultaneously, buildings spontaneously
disintegrating, CNN broadcasting
every fifteen minutes on the status of the earth (before the power
goes out), and people driving
away from home as fast as they
can with as many possessions
their vehicles can carry, is what it
might be like.
Why is it that in doomsday
movies, people hear about, for
example, aliens invading the
earth and then immediately to
run for the hills? Or some isolated place? And what's with the
screaming? The logic of this completely evades me. Let's take the
contents of the house with us but
not the house. Let's go to an "isolated" place, which is where
everybody else is going to go, and
maybe the aliens won't find us!
I'd stay at home while the aliens
snatched up everyone in the
mountains and forests. I'd probably be alone and maybe a little
bit miffed, but at least I wouldn't
be among the assimilated. Ha!
In fact, using the tattered
remains of humanity I might
even be able to form the Earth
Resistance Force and with my diehard colleagues, we could spell
sudden death for the predatory
aliens by terminating them and
thus save the world. I can see by
the expression on your face that I
am not being taken seriously.
Well, while you're running for
the woods, I'll be ready for the
worst when Doomsday strikes on
August 14, 1997, at 4 P.M. +/- 5
minutes, Eastern time.
Steve Fukuda is one of the bestpro-
crastinators on the planet. Where
most of us spend our time reorganizing our desks instead of studying for
that all critical midterm, Steve
spends his staring at the clock on the
wall and muttering "...only a short
time left until all of this is completely irrelevant..." PAGE 4
H
E
3
Feb 7,1996
What planet?
When I was just a wee little one (insert violent
guffaws from everyone
except other undergraduates), I
was an avid reader of science fiction. Like my current passions in
art I was discriminating but horribly common, which leaves me
with Monet's gardens, Klimt's
kiss, and Raphael's angels staring
glassily at shelves of Asimov,
Adams, Anthony and Bradbury.
I'm sure the impressionists feel I
only managed to pathetically
make it through the first two letters of the alphabet before hitting
reader burnout, but I'd like to
think at least Klimt knows I just
skipped to the good stuff. But the
point is, I've been submersed in. a
world of fantasy long enough to
be suitably excitedly the discovery of a smallish planet with an
85°C holiday atmosphere and
even a few beach with actual
water lapping the shores. The
question is, why the hell isn't
anyone else? If it's true, that is.
I heard the news first on some
early morning when CBC decided
to rudely rip me out of sleep.
Admittedly I'm prone to delusions, so at this point it could
have been written off as my own
little vacation in the land of sci-fi.
But I heard it again at around
lunch time, and not having eaten
anything too over-naturally green
lately I decided this impression
couldn't be self-induced. Sol
decided to get excited. Maybe
the green stuff in my fridge I hadn't eaten was actually remains left
by, or even of, little green men -
I sure don't know how it got
there. Go figure.
Think of the implications - the
common sense conclusion that
there are billions of other planets
out there even just a little bit like
our own has just been partially
verified! Sort of. If it's true.
Think of the new life, the chance
to see evolution in progress, to
gain new insight into own creation! Think of the whole new
world, literally, of information
and really cool... stuff! Think of
the real-estate opportunities!
So being the diligent wee little
one that I am, I hopped over to
the library to get some more
info... Scientific American - nothing. Discover - nothing. Okay,
maybe the news is so hot off the
presses it burnt up the appropriate pages. Friday paper - nothing. Saturday paper - nothing.
Enquirer - not even an Elvis sighting with a weird truth-twist. New
Homes and Gardens, special'flyers
with exotic Spring-Break getaways
- not a mention. I asked Klimt
and even Adams personally -
both were shocked at the news.
Asimov already knew, but he's got
that whole death advantage. And
all even he could say was "85°,
water". This was getting silly. So
I determined that at the very least
The 432 would have something -
like an irate rampage on the
inability of other sources to help
me out. Because people should
know about this. If it's true, of
course.
What am I talking about again?
I don't know. That's the problem.
There's a planet. 85°, water.
That's all I know. I ask friends
and strangers - hear about the
planet? Sure! It's a planet. 85°,
water.
So while real-estate agents hope
the nameless wonder isn't
destroyed to make way for an
inter-spatial bypass, and the sillier
start seeing Elvis again, I'll be
scouring the papers and the skies
for some further proof of its actual existence. Little green men in
my fridge excluded, of course.
Nicola Jones is only one of an
immense vanguard of the Martian
saucer alien invasion force. Her
job... to slowly infiltrate and take
over all local media to control the
information we receive.
lAZiR TAG MfGHT AT
Puwer Laser!
fee 2f Z'00-8; 30pm
t mure <P, 2 awes V3, 3 ernes *fS
SfGA/ t/P fir B/osoc (SUB 24M
Jer and the
Skunk.
Jeremy
THORP
There's nothing funny about
a rabid skunk. Okay, well
maybe its feet, but little else.
Rabid skunks tend, in fact, to be
not very funny at all, particularly
when one of them is trapped in
your bathroom. As one could
probably imagine, this makes everyday self-hygiene a little tricky, not
to mention the curious looks from neighbors, puzzled by the odd and
somewhat angry screechy-noises emanating from the basement.
How, did you ask, did I end up with a diseased, smelly rodent in my
bathroom? I put it there. More accurately, I trapped it there, with a
sandwich. I suppose at this point, the question becomes how did I
end up with a rabid skunk within viable sandwich trapping distance?
This question, unfortunately, is not so easily answered. At first, in fact
,the angry little stripy guy completely escaped my notice. At 7:30 in
the morning, nothing seems out of the ordinary. My alarm went off, I
yawned, got up, stepped over the rabid skunk, and headed to the
bathroom. It was only on my return trip that I began to realize that
something was quite probably not entirely normal — my subconscious was slowly beginning to convince me that not only had I never
purchased or borrowed a rabid skunk, but also that the presence of the
above mentioned rodent was probably cause for a considerable
amount of alarm.
Being the calm, even-minded guy that I am, I immediately began
screaming like a girl. This, however, did not seem to have the desired
calming effect on my smelly friend, and he nonchalantly lunged at
my ankles. Ignoring the obvious blood-letting and intense pain, I
calmly leapt onto my bed, and flailed wildly at the attacking creature
with my bath towel. However, after a certain period of 'controlled'
panic I began to realize that I may just have to come up with another
plan. At this point I remembered the sandwich. A small, bologna &
cheese sandwich, which had probably been in my fridge a few days
too long for carbon dating. Coincidentally, it also was in possession of
the same disturbing odour which emanated from the posterior end of
my frothy-mouthed adversary. Putting two and two together; subtfacting four and multiplying by 3,1 realized the sandwich would probably
serve as an effective lure. One big problem, however — the sandwich
was in the fridge. I was semi-naked on my bed. There was a rabid
skunk attacking my bath towel. And, I had a headache.
That's when inspiration hit. I dropped the torn-to-bits bath towel
onto the snarling varmint at my feet. Leaping over him, I ran to the
kitchen. Opening the fridge, I spotted the sandwich. And, a beer.
Mmmmmm. Beer. Let me tell you, nothing gets your thirst up like a
near-death encounter with a pointy-toothed critter with rabies. So, I
drank it. And another. I was halfway through the third when I heard
something which sounded a lot like a lawnmower coming rather
rapidly in my direction. Right about when I saw a small piece of tattered bathrobe fly clear over my shoulder, I grabbed the sandwich and
ran.
At this point, I started to lose a teency little bit of faith in my previously brilliant plan. For one, the sandwich had decomposed to the size
of a smartie. Also, the skunk seemed considerably more enthralled
with my bleeding legs than with my smelly lunch items. However,
since I didn't have a plan B, or even a plan A and a half, I decided to
go for it. Lobbing the sandwich into the bathroom, I skidded to a halt,
and turned to meet my fate. And what an ugly looking fate he was.
Black, *vhite, smelly and definitely evil, his eyes glowed with a fire that
would definitely not be described as 'sparkly.' However, they apparently could be described as 'Hungry' — you see, much to my amazement,
he turned and scampered quickly into bathroom. I shut the door, and
breathed a beer-laden sigh of relief.
Now I have a rabid skunk in my bathroom. He's not hungry anymore, but he's sure as hell pissed off. I'm sure that if I had a skunk to
english translation guide around, the words that I looked up would
not be in the 'everyday speech' or even the 'night on the town' section. To make things worse, he seems to be excavating. I have no
doubt that he is also sending signals to his rabid skunk friends, and
that they will be knocking on my door any day now. So please, if you
have any experience in the field of rodent psychology, give me a call.
Lines will be open 24 hours a day.
Jeremy Thorp recendy discovered the magic Instabeer™ machine in SUS. In
fact, Jet's responsible for much of the machine's fiscal success. Now, Jet can
be found virtually anytime of the day, slumped over the table hockey game
in SUS, with three or four beer cans scattered around a puddle of drool.
And yes, he does squeal like a girl. Feb 7,1
H       E
PAGE 5
Le Almost Valentine's
Classifieds & Erotic
'*...&;.'
Our own dear science twin,
Always ready to give a massage (and
for amazing lengths of tinted Your
magic fingers are office renowned.
Happy Valentines Day!
The beer boys of SUS,
Will I ever enter the office and see
you without a beer in hand? 1 wait
with baited breath
Amazon Warrior, j
Your fierceness makes us feel safe
from the evil red aliens. Protect us
(and Crackerboy™) and we'll reward
you with a closet full of Science clothing.
Scottie and Tequila,
Lets have another peach cider and
berate (or praise) men! Happy
Valentines' Day! Okay, let's be realistic - berate.
Our brave tanki^prpxy, -
Our admiration ofypur courage , -'
knows no bounds. Thanks far^
humouring us and Happy Valentine's.
Day. (I assume you're w&zring the red
boxMffarts)
¥'
A man who will l^an\enabte tb my
every whim and desire. Apply to SUS,
c/o the Pentichm Peach
!—#   ;,
Macho SUS guy,.
Your re-hashing of ball hod^ games
thrills me. I look fbmard%Fbemg
alone with you and testing the extent
of your sports knowledge. Ciao.
World,
Fuck off and leave me alone.
-Ed
Bear
The hand of friendship
Once we gladly shared;
Now, your gentle nip,
Shows how love has faired
Byrd
w»
Love is silk boxers
Soft and smooth and expensive
Available in leopard print - B
I'm ice cream
You are the cherry
Garnish me. -B
Your love is a fire
Burning, hot and exciting
Bring out the ice now - B
Wanted: One personal maid. Must do
dishes and be friendly with new life
forms. Please apply to the Ass't Room
Managers of SUS
Wanted: One knight in shining
armour. Must have a regulation length
sword and enjoying undoing laces and
being gentle. A silver, silky tongue preferred, but large musician's hands are
a must.
Guenivere
To my little "stargazer"
x   Whenever I look up in me sky, I see
, thy%& and beautiful smile, Cupid is
■» 'frying by, would you be my Sweetie-
-. s pie?
-W.R.R.
Christine: Happy day-after-your-
birthday
*   ■
Chris, I love yoa'mega-mammoth
econo-pack size. We must go sailing
sometime (really!). Happy Valentine's
Day from Sarah
<*
To my baby
Here's a short note
That I just wrote
To say "I love you
And I always will!"
From your "Awesome" Sweetie Pie
To my Princess ft- her hi^ry tower
With love as my snjeldjshall continue to fight the trolls'lmy^sml yqk.
Your Knight in Shining Armour
Wanted: Amazon Warrm Guy, 6'2"
minimum, for a nice gal wfio's good
with an arrow. (I promise not to kill .
you.) ■     '
Along ^*me'      their tempo
tf* sS* r.
Pressing v^crrnme
QLfj&t***    _ i,urst out
>^c0    »h» we bring*8 <"
3iKwM"gsof?: to swrt once ago*.
-£ .m-m-h- i ■M-«-ii"~<- -AWTCttir heooS> - Kotnryf
^iSu^^^root,        Above «*
Upon "W^nk. Hown mYu"      . !
vnuslidesoWfa      . ^urw(**-
. tender ^m^ff^^
LC^gers*
Pe«*utbZ    °re
Pi'*ebylZd"Kh
Youwo^myourb
/uur power
Si?*****,
s "oorrt
Anna
Eligible bachelor seeks single, young,
bandicoot lady. Must enjoy activities
that require no limbs. ReplyJo Ed.
**      s
Wanted: one set of Bandicoot antlers.
Willing to trade back various farm
animals and assorted signage.
Needed: Accounting wizard that will
pay more attention to the figure, rather
than the numbers. Replies to Stinky.
Lost: One shy CompSci guy; in-office
replacements just don't measure up.
May be hiding in downtown core.
Return required before finals for invigorating, topical discussions.
Up for Grabs: one B.Sc. Of no use to
current owner. Willing to trade for a
backrub.
Lost: Sense of humour. If found,
„*    please return to McLeod 105.
To our favourite lackey:
You are truly our 'hero'. Happy
Valentine's Day!
—Those Who've Remained Dry.
Wanted: pleasant disposition. Reply
c/o Editor, this paper.
Recommended: People toSwalk a
mtte in my shoes" so they'll stop giving me a bad time about being a
grouch. Reference abov& ad.
Found: Various life forms in a rainbow of fashion colours to suit every
need. Interested parties may view at *
SUS sink, M-F, 8-5.
Desperately seeking: Li%
accept any type, itKludingmcom
tioned, no matter how pvt
Donations maybe made to the Ws ~®>j
on the sofas in Chem 160. ?
-.   v i*
Needed: Limber-fingered men. Must
have stamina and enjoy kneading.
Reply to women of SUS.
Up for grabs: one life, largely unused.
Contact Internal VP of Science, Chem
160.
Wanted: Memories of SUS social
events. Please send to SUS President,
Chem 160.
crackerboy -
Happy Valentine's Day
I love ya.-a.
*>•
Stolen: one kiss, last September after
Cheeze Tub. Culprit is known to associate with Purple organization,
although recent reports hijve identified
him consorting with BJtfe. If apprehended, return to SUSjp be dealt with
by resident §3perhero.
Wanted: a heart, brains, and a ride
in a balloon. Will settle for heart and
balloon ride. Contact Internal VP of
Science, Chem 160.
.   Much like discount food,
,    Love is much cheaper
When.W^boughtin bulk.
"1L-  *^w'  ^"
J  " \uck%g, Nibbling
' Softly overmy body.
I love my petfeech.
Whip me, tie me.up.
What a frenzied ride this is.
Oh lo6% Here's my stop.
"«►
To Sarah and Amanda
for being there for me.
I still haven't figured out
the meaning of life, but I'm
getting mere.
Thanks, guys.
- -Zeke
-„ Elana-
With all my love, all the time..
-Blair PAGE 6
T       H       E
4       3       2
Feb 7,1996
The (im)official duties of Exec.
PRESIDENT
To be the main spokesperson for
the Society
To preside over meetings of the
Society, the Council and the
Executive
To vote only in the case of a tie
To supervise and coordinate the
other executive officers of the
Society
To act as a liaison with all
Science clubs
To act as an ex-officio member of
all Society committees.
EXTERNAL VICE PRESIDENT
To represent the Society to the
AMS Council
To know thoroughly the AMS
Constitution, Code and Bylaws
To keep Council informed of the
activities of, and liaise with,'the
AMS Council, constituencies and
clubs
To coordinate Science Week
To be AMS Booking
Representative for the Society
the Society's main account
To submit all budgets, obtain all
estimates, and sign all requisitions of the Society
To work with the incoming
Director of Finance in preparing
the next year's budget
To chair the Budget Committee
ACTUAL DUTY: To harass the
other executive into actually
doing something useful
ACTUAL DUTY: Our spy on the
rest of UBC.
ACTUAL DUTY: Rolling around in
piles of change when there's no
one else in the office
PUBLIC RELATIONS OFFICER
To inform Science students of
employment opportunities
To coordinate the Red Cross
Blood Drive, the Food Drive and
any other charitable events the
Society may participate in
To arrange any press releases by
the Society
To represent the Society to the
AMS
INTERNAL VICE PRESIDENT
To have a current version of this
constitution at all Society meetings
To coordinate all academic
affairs of the Society
To coordinate all elections and
referendum
To ensure that all the information for the Black and Blue
Review is collected and complied
To be a member of the following
Standing Committees
Academic Sub Council
Science Week Committee
Alumni Committee
First Year Committee
EXECUTIVE SECRETARY	
.To carry out all regular correspondence of the Society
To send out notice of forthcoming events to the Faculty
To record and maintain minutes
of Society meetings
To represent the Society to the
AMS
To be a member of Budget
Committee
To maintain an updated list of
the attendance of members at
regular Council meetings
DIRECTOR OF PUBLICATIONS
To publish or cause to be published The 432 and the Black and
Blue Review
To assist in the production of all
other promotional material of the
Society
To be a member of the Budget
and Science Week Committees
To be the head editor of the
Science Newspaper Council
To represent the Society to the
AMS
ACTUAL DUTY: Roping everyone
in the office into to buying 50/50
draw tickets
DIRECTOR OF SPORTS
To promote the participation of
all Science students in UBC's
Intramural Sports program
ACTUAL DUTY: Pondering why no
one wants to play 3 on 3 lacrosse
ACTUAL DUTY: Spending the
majority of the year putting
together an accurate phone list
ACTUAL DUTY: Yelling at the
members of the First Year
Committee
DIRECTOR OF FINANCE	
To be responsible for the
finances of the Society
To be the sole signing officer for
ACTUAL DUTY: Spending
immense amounts of time nagging everyone else for their
articles. Gets to make his job
description box bigger than anyone else's to satisfy delusions of
grandeur. Gets greatest pleasure
of leaving nasty little notes at the
end of everyone's articles.
Hahahaha!
SOCIAL COORDINATOR
To organize, coordinate and promote all social functions of the
Society.
To chair the Social Committee
To coordinate all banner painting of the Society
ACTUAL DUTY: Trying to top the
all-time record for largest loss on
a single bzzr garden
MAKE MILLIONS
IMPRESS YOUR FRIENDS
President
Internal Vice Pres
External Vice Pres
Director of Finance
Director of Publications
Director of Sports
Executive Secretary
Public Relations Officer
Social Coordinator
and Science Senator
Nomination forms at the back
of this issue or available from
GHEMB160.
Forms must be completed and
returned before Friday,
January 16 at 3:30pm.
There will be an all-candidates
meeting at that time which
everyone must attend.
For info, contact Jay Garcia at
SUS (822-4235) Feb 7,1996
H
E
3
PAGE 7
The drawers of SUS.
Tracy MacKinnon
President
For those of you who didn't
see my exuberant self on
Friday, the REFERENDUM
passed!!! Hurrah! Thanks to all
those who voted and a pox on all
of you who lied to me and said
you'd voted when you hadn't.
Exec elections are getting under
way, so if you want to get
involved this is the perfect time.
Come on by and talk to a current
exec about their position. This
year the Science Senator will be
included in the SUS Exec elections since no one applied by the
deadline.
Bella Carvalho	
External Vices
Here's my almost-but-not-
quite-Valentine's day issue
report. In honour of this
special occasion, I was going to
write my report in the form of an
erotic haiku. But needing more
than seventeen syllables for my
report (and lacking any poetic talent whatsoever) I have chosen to
spare you all this artistic effort
and stick to the dull ole' drawers
of SUS.
Science Week is over! For those
of you who came out to some of
the many events, great! For those
that didn't... too bad! You really
missed out! Despite the snow and
cold weather, the events were a
success (except for Chris Carter's
We're havin a bzzr garden, the
No Class Bash on 16 February 96
at 4:32 pm in the Party Room.
We're planning on starting celebrating Spwing Break early so drop
on by.
I realize I said nothing especially
interesting, but you see I have to
work on my classifieds for the
Valentine's issue. Happy
Valentine's Day!
Tracy MacKinnon plans to use the
revenue from the referendum to benefit Science students. Specifically,
sending herself and Anna to Costa
Rica for Spring Break.
reception... he was unfortunately
called away on business). One of
the best attended events again
this year was Beyond 1st Year,
with just under 1000 frosh showing up. The dance with the
Rainbow Butt Monkeys was also a
hit, although I'm told some people had a bit too much fun at the
shooter bar!
Thanks to all who helped out
that week!
That's all I want to say about
Science Week. It's over, finished,
done, complete, ended!! Wahoo!!
Bella Carvalho spent the majority
of Science Week curled up in the
fetal position on one of the couches
in SUS and refused to take any calls
except from her therapist.
Anna Carvalho
e*°"d *%
*
Fr'day, February 16
4:32 pm
SUB Partyroom
*°-C/ass *•*
Keeper of the GOD password
Phew! I just narrowly missed
being hit by a large,
unmarked white van. That
would've cast real shadow on an
already lousy day of an incredibly
lousy week. You see, anything
that could've gone wrong, has.
And it's only Wednesday.
I'm thinking of following the
lead of the guys in this office and
start drinking at 10:00 a.m., just
to numb the pain and avoid reality. It's unreal the amount of beer
these feeble, scrawny young guys
are capable of consuming in the
space of a school day. And it
doesn't take a genius to correlate
these unusual drinking habits
with the arrival of Instabeer in
Chem 160.
Yes, we've now defiled our Coke
machine so that it will spit out
beer at the push of a few buttons.
Here's a quick run-down of how it
works: you come to me (superan-
na!™, Beer Goddess...yeah, I've
changed my reason for existence...saving Hiro from tankings
simply involved too great a risk of
tanking to myself) and get an
account, you pay me money for
beer (right now we've got G.I.
Lager at $1.50) and I credit your
account. Then, whenever you feel
like a beer, you march up to the
machine, punch in your account
number and personal passcode,
and a beer drops out and debits
your account. Marvellous, isn't it?
There is a maximum of 256
accounts at any one time and
they're going fast, so hurry on in
if you'd like one!
In other news, Science Week '96
was a blast. Personally, I most
enjoyed doing the car rally in
which one of the big-point items
was a speeding ticket. None of
the team members had one, so
on our way back to campus, our
token Engineer decided to remedy that. The only problem with
getting pulled over by the police
after doing a car rally is that you
tend to have a few stolen items in
your car, which can be a bit tricky
to explain. But hey, we got the 25
points, CRiSTO got three for his
license, and we came in tied for
dead last, yay!
Thanks to all who voted in the
referendum...and apologies to
those emerging from Chem 150
whom I harangued "Just vote
'No'! At least just vote!". I'm sure
Tracy will gush about the results
elsewhere in this issue, so I'll just
say that with the "Yes" vote that
we got, the SUS will be able to
continue doing all those fab
things that we do. Don't know
what I mean? Drop by and ask
me!
By working the poll stations, I
earned way too many free bzzr
tickets to spend at the Science
Week Dance, which turned out
far better than we ever anticipated. Unfortunately, I spent all my
tickets, and got a little bit 'happier' than I ever intended to. What
worries me most is that nobody
really noticed...apparently I make
just as little sense sober as I do
when I'm looped. Go figure, eh?
As usual, my report has noticeably little to do with Public
Relations. This is because I'm hiding from the United Way. I'm
sure we'll be doing something,
sometime to raise a little more
money, since we're a little shy
(we've raised 10% of what we
intended to) of our goal. But hey,
when that happens, I'm sure I'll
let y'all know.
Even though this issue is coming
out a touch early, let me wish
everyone out there a Happy
Valentine's Day. Be sweet to
somebody single...it'll make their
day (not that I speak from years
upon years of experience, nope,
not at all). And check out the
Elections section—fill out a nomination form and you too could
have tons of space at the back of
The 432 to waste on reports that
nobody reads. Ta for now, luvs!
Contest time - here's the rules:
l.Cut or rip this article out.
2. Bring it to SUS (CHEM B160)
3. Get Anna's signature on it, and
say "Look, I do read these stupid
articles, ok?"
4. Bring signed article to me or any
of the other editor types. Oust stand
in the middle of SUS and scream
until someone asks you what the
$&%@ your problem is)
The first person to do that will win
a limited edition The 432 t-shirt.
Jay Garcia
Internal Haiku Master
The time is coming
For a new executive
To be elected.
Nomination forms
Will be made available
At the very back
Get your friends to sign,
Drop the form off in my box
In Chem 160.
Deadline for these forms
Should be before 3:30,
Sixteenth of the month.
Let us now move on
To other campus affairs
ie. Science Week.
Beyond the First Year
Was beyond successful.
Thanks for coming out.
I was supposed to
Write some erotic haikus
But my brain is fried.
Erotic they're not.
They are in haiku form though.
So there. Happy now?
Jay is very strange
He thinks he's an alien
So we'll dissect him
-Blair
NEXT DEADLINE
Friday, February 16
for the Feb 28th issue
All candidates for the SUS Elections must
submit a 100 word blurb or a graphic no
larger than 4.5'x2' by that time. PAGE 8
H
E
Feb 7,1996
The voices.
Short of two human brains,
the human brain is the most
complicated thing I can possibly imagine. I mean, brains are
really complex. They make a 747
(or Kennedy Space Center for that
matter,) look like a Duplo1 car.
There's only one problem with
relying on something so intricate
for daily use: lots and lots of
places for glitches to occur. Some
people find math a trial, others
don't take well to criticism, and
then there are those of us who are
just "missing something."
I've spent many hours questioning my sanity, and while the
results are inconclusive, it appears
that I may, in fact, be insane.
Why the heck would I write an
article about such a thing?
Simple. I gotta talk about this
somewhere, and if I go talk to a
psychiatrist about it, there's
always the chance they'll decide I
should be "brought in for observation." None of you will ever
believe that what I'm writing is
true, so you won't do anything
about it, and I get to stay out of
the ward.
I'm seeing my share of warning
signs, but most of them probably
happen to everyone; it's just that
no one feels comfortable talking
about them. For example, when
you're driving down the highway
late at night, do you ever get mesmerized by the pretty lights and
want to swerve into the lane of
oncoming traffic? I don't mean
you actually have to do it, I'm
just asking if it occurs, (I'm proud
to say I have never once given
into that urge). I hope you all
answered yes to that one; if you
didn't, I'm in worse trouble than
I thought, and I really shouldn't
be allowed to drive.
But like I said, it's not my driving habits that worry me. It's the
voices. It wasn't until my sister
came home from psych class and
told me that "some people think
in voices" that I realized that not
everybody thinks in voices. Just
to clarify here, I mean that when
I have a thought, I actually hear
the words in my head. The
strange part is that sometimes the
voices talk to me rather than as
me. (I would just like to take this
opportunity to say that I haven't
sniffed gasoline in almost a year.)
The first time this happened, I
was studying in Sedge at one
night, and I noticed that rather
tha,n reading my textbook, the
voices were chatting. Four of
them. The conversation was pretty benign, you know, the weather, what they wanted to do for
the weekend, everything except
organic chem (bloody procrasti-
nators). It's a frightening realization that one doesn't have conscious control of one's brain, so I
decided to deal with it by taking a
nap, after which the voices were
much more obedient.
Since then, they've become a little bolder, interrupting me when
I'm talking, discussing whether
the generic Animal Crackers are
as good as the Mr. Christie™ kind
when we're shopping, and generally making suggestions on subjects they know nothing about.
One of them has learned ventriloquism.
At least that's what I'm hoping...
well, maybe not. In the last couple of weeks, the knives have
started to talk to me. They aren't
interested in small talk, either.
They don't say much; they never
say please. They're rude and
they're evil. If it's really the
knives talking, I can always throw
them out. If it's Luis (the voice,)
I'm stuck with him. I've asked if
he's been doing this as a joke, but
Luis won't say. Anyway, the
knives speak rather esoterically;
they say things like "You are the
one. Through you, we shall
cleanse the world." I'm hoping
they want me to clean the
kitchen. If, perchance they do
manage to convince me to do
something... less than ethical, I'll
just convince the judge to let
them testify. If he/she lets them,
I'll get off, I'll be declared "unable
to understand the consequences
of my actions."
If there's a moral to this story, I
think it's that you should never
let me play with sharp objects, or
that I shouldn't be allowed to
operate motorized vehicles, or
that lobotomies should be re-
legalized. I'll leave it up to you to
decide. I've got a date with my
cleaver. It promised to teach me
how to get a closer shave than
I've ever had with my Gillette.
^or those of you who have never
heard of it, Duplo™ is like training
Lego™. It's about six times ihe size,
and it doesn't come with any complicated pieces.
•
Even when Mart's alone in a room,
he's got someone to talk to. In fact,
you'll often overhear him muttering
"The Pope! Why can't I be the
Pope?"
(ft
o
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