UBC Publications

UBC Publications

UBC Publications

The 432 Oct 31, 1994

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Array Hey kids.,.
The 432™ Official Residence
Survival Package
BC Archives Serial
New Breed
of Corn!
"Movie-goers everywhere are elated" says theatre owner.
Jeremy T. Fibble
Roving Correspondent
Yesterday, after years
of painstaking
research in the field
of cellular growth biology,
Dr. Raymond Sung of
McGill University made an
announcement that he and
his team had encountered
"some limited success"
with a recently developed
growth hormone.
In his press release, Sung
was quoted as saying "In
the past few years, we have
been testing this particular
hormone regime on a variety of food crops with the
hopes of increasing their
durability and output
potential. Ideally, a plant
with these heightened
characteristics could be
used to help fight hunger
in the third world."
When asked to comment
on the level of success that
was being experienced,
Sung replied "It's very difficult to say, really, and I
don't want to hedge any
guesses as to how it will
turn out. But I'm willing to
Dr. Raymond Sung checking on the growth rates of
his genetically engineered
corn plants.
(Jennifer Brown/'AP photo)
say that the progress so far
is satisfactory and may
even be something to get
excited about in time;."
Corn sprayed with the
new hormone grew from
an average kernel width of
7.5mm to approximately
20cm across. Sung was
quick to point out that the
size change was not something to get excited about.
"We can't just assume
the experiment was a success just because we can
make popcorn big enough
to feed an entire movie
crowd off of one cob. We
must remain scientifically
minded and confirm that
there are no side effects
from the growth hormone
before we start using the
corn in famine relief
efforts. This may take years
of painstaking scientific
According to a unnamed
internal source, earlier in
the program, a lab mouse
was given a daily dose of
the hormone. After almost
two months of no noticeable results, the mouse
spontaneously grew to
eight times normal size and
escaped during the night.
It was picked up by the
SPCA the following day,
and adopted almost immediately by an affluent family under the assumption
that it was a rather large
The mistake in identifying the animal may have
occurred due to the side
effects of the growth hormone, which causes almost
complete hair and teeth
loss when applied to mammals.
Luckily, initial tests show
no equivalent side effects
in plants. According to
Sung, the treated plants
retain all the characteristics
of their small relatives,
including taste and nutritional content.
Canadian Shield
"It's even better than those stupid Northern Lights"
claim local residents.
Cord van McOlundsky
Roving Correspondent.
Officials at the
Atomic Energy of
Canada, Ltd.
announced today the
results of a fifteen year
investigation into safe disposal of Canada's nuclear
AEC is the official government agency responsible for the safe operation
of nuclear power stations.
Canada's 23 reactors, primarily located in Ontario
and Quebec produce an
estimated 500 kg of depleted plutonium and uranium
per year. Currently, this
radioactive waste is stored
in temporary containers,
and buried in local parks
and schoolgrounds in the
middle of the night.
The announcement, was
made by Larry Shewchuk, a
senior AEC official
"We're very, very pleased
that we finally have a place
to dump all this nuclear
waste. We're running out
of safe storage spots.
There's only so many barrels you can dump in a lake
before the biologists start
noticing crazy things like
third eyes and stuff."
Currently, the plan is to
bury the waste nearly a
kilometer deep in stable
rock structures in the
Canadian Shield.
Individual containers
would be placed in shielded tubes, and then filled
with high density concrete.
The stable rock structures
were named plutons,
reflecting AEC's initial plan
to "let the Martians take
the containers to their holiday resort on Pluto"
This statement was
found in AEC documents
from the 1960s. CSIS has
been asked to investigate
the possible connection
between Martians and
senior government officials, and is treating the
matter very seriously.
When questioned,
Shewchuk angrily replied,
"Look, we never took
any money from anyone
for anything! AEC has
nothing to do with the
Reform Party, or any other
white supremacist group.
All we care about is power.
Nothing else! "
In addition to safe disposal, AEC's research identified several applications
for small amounts of
radioactive waste.
One idea would be to
provide light without the
use of electricity. By inserting a few milligrams of
radioactive waste into a
glass tube, the tube will
produce enough light to
read by for nearly seven
This technique has
already been applied to the
Cyalume™ lightsticks sold
in most outdoor supply
stores. It has been revealed
that, due to public concerns about the hazards of
carrying about radioactive
waste, Cyalume's PR company successfully convinced the residents of a
small Alberta town that the
light was actually produced
by three little pixies. This
successful ad campaign fell
through when tourists
from Montana visited the
town, heard the story and
as a result bought several
boxes of lightsticks.
When crossing the
Canada-US border, the
tourists replied "pixies" to
the standard question
regarding livestock or fruit.
Custom officials investigated and Cyalume admitted
the charade.
Subsequently, Cyalume
started promoting the light
as the result of a chemical
AEC officials refused to
comment on Cyalume's
products or advertising
HI t
I'm tellin'yat Frank, this is not
going to work!" Random Thoughts.
a    ■   «P—9
There's been an awful
lot of really weird
things going on out
there lately. You've seen it,
I'm sure. It must be the full
moon or something.
I've always tried to keep
an eye out for all the little,
slightly bizarre things out
there, but I never could
remember any of them
when it came time to write
my articles. So, I started
carry around with me a
hardcover notebook, that I
use to jot down ideas as
they occur to me. This also
cause a 25% increase in my
grades, since I normally
ended up neglecting most of
my homework 'cause it
wasn't written down.
The moral of the story is
that, if you see something in
the paper that doesn't make
a lot of sense to begin with,
bear with me. If s probably
something that occurred to
me in the shower or something. Unfortunately, these
ideas have a half-life of
about five minutes, so I
have to make a mad dash
for my notebook before they
evaporate. Apologies to my
roommates for that shower
incident last week...
Most of these ideas just
aren't long enough for an
entire article, so they stack
up over the space of the
year. It's important to go
back and clean out the ol'
notebook every now and
again, so you can fill the
space with other totally
ridiculous ideas. And the
only way to do that is to
write an article about all the
little ideas you can't write
an article about. Here's a
few of the things from my
Why is it that I can never
find a matching sock in the
Speaking as a biology student, the only obvious
answer is that socks are cannibalistic. You can't blame
them, really. You lock them
up in a crowded, dark drawer for most of their life, and
their only respite from that
hell is when you stick them
into a smelly leather shoe.
Socks need to eat, just like
any other organism, and the
only food available is other
socks. Add to that the fact
that by eating their
brethren; socks will create
more room for themselves,
giving them space to create
little baby socks, The only
way you're gonna be able to
keep matched sets is to go
out and steal your roommate's socks, shred them
into really tiny pieces, and
feed your sock drawer every
four days.
This also has the added
side benefit that it will drive
your roommates nuts.
This new theory of sock
life history should take
precedence over the old theory of how the dryer ate
your socks. When socks go
missing from the dryer, it's
actually other people living
in your building stealing
them to feed their own
Due to increased pressure from animal rights groups
The Department of Biology has
announced the creation of 200
positions effective immediately.
No experience necessary.
Sucessful applicants will have:
high pain tolerance,
no major illnesses, and
good internal organ contrast.
brood of socks. This was
proven with the use of hidden cameras in residence
laundry rooms.
Why would porcupines be
eating the metal tags from
Apparently, some ecolo-
gist from the States is looking for a solution to this
very problem. He's doing
some experiment with birch
tree saplings, but the native
population of porcupines
generally eat the metal identification tags before the
experiment.ends. So far, the
ecologist has had to plant
twenty different sets of
Personally, I see this as a
conspiracy on the part of
the porcupines. Porcupines
like to eat saplings. Ecologist
plants saplings with tags.
Ecologist plants even more
saplings if tags disappear.
Porcupines make tags disappear, thus creating more
saplings. The porcupines
win big because there's a
never-ending supply of nice,
fresh tasty saplings. This system will work quite well
until the ecologist goes
completely mad and decides
to make his wife an wonderful porcupine evening coat.
Or maybe porcupines are
the terrestrial equivalent of
sharks, and in addition to
those tags you'd find pop
cans and license plates in
the average porcupines'
Incidentally, somewhere
out there in the great wide
forest is a porcupine den
stuffed to the rafters with
little tiny tags. And I'm sure
if you dig deep enough, you
can link the porcupines to
Elvis and the Grassy Knoll
and the fact you can never
find your car keys when
you're in a hurry.
Elevators contain a chemical that prevents communication.
Have you ever noticed
that when you get in an elevator, everyone is completely silent and stands there
staring at the little red floor
indicator? It's really eerie
how a group of people can
be standing in the basement
with their laundry baskets,
talking away, but the
minute you step on the lift,
everyone turns into zombies.
Nuclear physics is neither
nuclear nor physics.
At least it is to me.
Nuclear physics is based on
the concept that if you
accelerate little tiny things
to nearly the speed of light
and slam them together,
something will happen.
They're not quite sure what,
but something should happen. The fact that something might include enough
energy to sink Vancouver
Island hasn't occurred to
anyone yet.
It's the high-tech equivalent of the classic math
problem, "If Train A leaves
Los Angeles heading east at
120 m.ph, and Train B
leaves New York heading
west at 79 mph, at which
sleepy little town in Texas
will the two trains collide
and kill everyone aboard,
assuming the Amtrack
switcher guy was asleep on
the job again?"
I think this question has
been on the mind of every
male on the face of the
planet since the dawn .of
time. No one understands
'em. No one. If a guy says he
does, he's either
a) very, very naive.
b) very, very stupid.
c) having a relationship
with a carrot.
Girlfriends have the
annoying habit of setting
little traps for the hapless
boyfriend to blunder into.
You get the feeling that
you're a white mouse, running a maze designed by the
Minotaur, according to a set
of rules that change according the time of the month
and what she had for breakfast that morning.
By the way, if you ever
get asked to guess your girlfriend's weight, the only
correct answer is 118
pounds. Anything less, you
risk insulting her intelligence. Anything more, you
risk insulting her diet and
exercise regime. It's not a
round number, so it gives
the appearance that you
actually put some thought
into it, rather than just tossing off the first number that
came to mind.
Just a little hint from me
to you.
Of course, it won't do a
damn bit of good if you're
dating a psycho-chick.
Nothing will.
Speaking of psycho-
chicks, I think I better get
going before she gets mad.
Apply in person lo ihe Depanmeni <>
Know \our: ;me. sex. hoisihi. wci.uhi.
ology Office BIOL 2521
oil type, and next of kin.
A &&n-typical production night at The 432. Siskel on Alarm Clocks.
Volume 6, dumber 5
31 October WW
tsialr McDonsId
Assistant Editors
Graeme Kennedy
Roger Watts
Tes$a Moon
glana Promiskwv
Glen Stokes
ftoger Watts
Jesse Burnett
Bella Carvaiho
John Hallett
Graeme Kennedy
Dave Khan
Tracy MacKinnon
Ryan McCuaig
Blair McDonald
Tessa Moon
Roger Watte
A sofid and dependable
groapoNedforted volunteers, Hahl
College Printers
Vancouver, BC
4500 copies
The 422 h published
every second week by
the Science Undergrad
Society of USC Alt
rights reserved.
All opinions expressed
within are those of the
individual writer*, not of
the student government
or the adminstration of
ynso&ited sebn&sJons
from ag UBC students
gfsdiy^epiHi. Priori*/
mM be $m* to &*«*&
<«fcM1$& by thread*
marked Tn*-«£ Mat
and ISM dlsksok. Your
full name artd phone
number r»ust be include
ed for yow submission
to be considered.
Any cartoonists out
there? We want more
Thanks to everyone who
sent in stttff for this issue
and didn't get printed.
In the words of telephone operators every*
where, "All fines are
busy. Please try placing
your tai* again later../'
Contains tots of stwff.
Wednesday morning is my sleep in
time. You see, as I
have 8:30 classes every other
day and have to get up by
six to make the bus and as I
have to work on weekends, I
really exploit my 11:30
Wednesdays. I do The
For those of you not
familiar with this term, The
Calculation is that ritual
undertaken whereby one
underestimates the time
required to perform complex morning tasks, in an
effort to convince oneself
that five minutes to shower,
shave, dress, eat and pack
leaves plenty of time to
sprint five blocks to the bus.
The end result is either
abandoning the belief that I
can make the class or
becoming a neighbourhood
spectacle as I bound down
41st after the bus, dripping
wet and wearing only
unmatched socks and my
school bag, toothbrush dangling out of the corner of
my mouth.
For example, this is my
Wednesday routine. Other
days, I'm up like a shot. It
wasn't always this way.
There was a time when a
rabid wallabee could jump
up and down on my sleeping head with little
response. I just couldn't
have enough alarm clocks.
For those of you who have
the same problem, here are
my reviews.
Braun Voice Control.
Pros: nice small travelling
size, world map so you
know where you're waking up, and your voice
activates the snooze
Cons: If your voice controls
the snooze, there's no
reason to get OUT of bed
at all.
Verdict: completely useless,
except as a novelty you
can use to pull a Kreskin
Baseball with embedded
Pros: easy to pack on trips,
first time it goes off you
can throw the thing
against a wall to activate
the snooze and the second time you have to
get up and stomp on it.
It's pretty loud, too.
Cons: replacing double-
glazed windows is quite
Verdict: I like it. Just don't
mix it up with your real
softballs or the pitcher
will be tweezing
solid-state electronic
components out of his
flesh for days.
Curtis digital.
Pros: Only $9 at London
Cons: you get what you pay
for. Runs about 2 hours
slow per day.
Verdict: Don't bother with
this one, unless you've
already made a trip to
London Drugs for some
"non-prescription medications" that shouldn't
normally be combined.
This would make the
clock quite accurate, perceptively speaking.
It's kind of a Salvador Dali
thing. Melting watches and
all that. You'll understand
after you try the drugs.
Roommate who wakes up
Pros: if you don't wake up,
you can blame somebody else.
Cons: you have relinquished control of your
attendance record, and
thus your grades to the
same guy who claims he
can't remember which
toothpaste is yours and
which is his, despite the
fact that he has never
bought toothpaste.
Verdict: unpredictable. Very
unpredictable. Back this
one up with another
clock if you have to get
somewhere important.
(Note: if he does forget to
wake you, no matter how
late you actually are, you
can always find a minute or
two to beat the tar out of a
slumbering roommate.)
Stereo with alarm.
Pros: You can wake up to
your choice of CD, tape,
or radio station, at the
volume of your choice.
Cons: you could just wake
up to one of those coun-
try stations. Way to start
your day. No snooze.
Verdict: if you need a
snooze, don't go this
Note: I like to tape myself
the night before and wake
up to my own urgent
shouts. 'Wake up! Wake up!
Midterm! And you're LATE!
Aaaaaaaugh! Feel the adrenaline!" This usually seems to
do the job.
Old-fashioned windup
with bells on top.
Pros: ridiculously foolproof.
Power failures have no
effect. You'd rather bite
down hard on a nail file
and then yank it out real
fast than listen to those
bells for five minutes.
Cons: see pros. And try to
find one of these clunkers in this day and age.
Alarm clocks with bells
went extinct with the
(Note: as a more insane
variation, try putting the
clock in an aluminum pie
plate filled with marbles.
Just don't sue me.)
All of the above.
Pros.yer up.
Cons: yer up on the ceiling.
Verdict: A week of this and
grey hairs will start to develops
Dean Marchak on Graduation Day. SCIENCE
November 10,
4:32 - 8:00
SUB Partyroom
Contains alcohol. Keep
out of reach of children
Use only as directed.
Don't have a Hallowe'en costume
yet? Looking for
some last-minute ideas that
don't involve lots of cash?
Trick or treat as one of
your parents.
Creative? Yup. Easy? You
betcha. Scary? Well, probably only to you.
I've got the mannerisms.
I've got the look. I've even
got the turns of phrase. All I
need is a pair of specs and
some grey at the temples
and presto, I'm my dad. (A
side note: this is why I never
believed that Clark Kent
could get away with that
disguise for so long; people
have been calling me Gary
since I was fourteen).
I'm willing to bet that
you are distinguished from
your parents by only a similarly cosmetic device. It
seems to be one of those
things that strikes you after
you turn twenty (along with
a genuine appreciation for
jazz music): that, in spite of
all that adolescent rebellion
against the parentals, you
remind yourself of them
and that there is no escape.
Now I'm going to tell you
a scary Hallowe'en story. It's
true, I swear...
car Ksy*?
yer heart
ar Allan
The revelation had been
long in coming, but our
hero ignored the signs until
it was too late. The seeds
were planted when he bade
farewell to the folks and
moved out.
It started slowly: he
picked up a sock here,
brushed off a dust mote
there. A place was set out for
everything, and everything
slowly, imperceptibly, and
in a rather out-of-character
manner, started migrating
back to it.
Our hero—a fan of mid-
eighties t-shirt rock (Bryan
Adams, Northern Pikes, et
al)—one day discovered a
Steeler's Wheels CD and a
Jim Croce CD on his shelf,
and had no idea how they
had got there. "Play me,"
they beckoned. "Crank it,
Flash," went the siren's call.
He quite liked them.
By now, our hero was
aware that something was
He threw the CDs out the
window. He wrenched the
lid from the top of his hamper and liberally sprinkled
his apartment with
unwashed laundry. He
cooked up a storm and left
the dirty dishes in the sink.
Satisfied that all was as it
should be, he slumped to
the couch and picked up the
dog-eared paperback that
straddled the arm.
Reeling in horror, he
recoiled from the testament
to the beauty and expressiveness of the English language as though it were an
especially poor vintage...
He looked at his bookcase; the titles resolved
themselves slowly, as if he
were emerging from a
dream. Penguin editions, all;
it was the library of every
civilized person.
His head whipped left
and right, desperately looking for some sign of comfortable squalor of adolescence. He found none. The
laundry was done... and
folded. The dishes... in the
cupboard with nary a water
Then, as our hero reached
the final moments of consciousness before his spectacular hyperventilation fit
took hold, a voice—unbidden—intruded in his perspiring mind: "Ya know,
adolescence would have
been a lot easier if you'd just
listened to your
parents.. .parents.. .rents.. .ents
Okay, you can all come
down from the ceiling, now.
It's just a story. It didn't
really happen.
There were still a couple
of forks in the sink.
(Insert sinister, Vincent
Price laugh here).
Happy Hallowe'en, everyone.
"It is never difficult
to tell the difference
between a Scotsman
with a grievance and
a ray of sunshine/'
PG Wodehouse
The day after surgery.
Students of General
Science Club
Meetings every
Tuesday @ 1:30pm
SUS Office (CHEM
160) Shh... we're not
hunting wabbits
Jay Garcia
It's Halloween! For those young at heart
(and ghoulish in imagination), it is a
time to roam the neighborhoods in
search of high-calorie, sugar-rush inducing,
coronary generating goodies offered in
appeasement by those poor beleaguered
homeowners. Any other time of the year
should be spent simply beleaguring homeowners for other reasons.
Terrorizing the neighborhood is easy
enough for most of us ('specially me, living
as I do some two blocks from Mountain
View cemetery), but for those in res, it might
be a trifle more difficult, although, granted,
hitting Strangway's house for Mars Bars -
not those damn "fun" size ones, the really
big ones - might be mildly enjoyable, provided you aren't chased off the property by
the Cowboys, (as in the campus police, not
the football team or John Wayne lookalikes.)
So, in order to aid the ghoulish creative
juices of those Science students living in res,
safely away from their families, I offer, as yet
another public service, some helpful hints to
make Halloween a truly memorable time.
Forget spooky sights and scary noises!
You get enough of that in class anyway.
What you really need is to do some terrorizing of your own! To that end, we should
settle on the appropriate faculty to victimize. Keeping in mind that engineers are
mean as all get out when riled, it only seems
appropriate that our Halloween prey should
be none other than... Artsies!
To that end, one good idea would be to
bombard the Buchanan buildings with low-
frequency sound waves until people start
pouring out of there, stumbling about and
retching violently. Alternatively, a drifting
hydrogen sulfide fog could be generated and
blown towards the buildings. -
Both these ideas, however, have quite a
few drawbacks, as many professors - those
directly responsible for the well-being of,
your grades - frequent the buildings as well.
Plus, it sounds like something the Engineers
would do.
A more... satisfying method involves torturing some Artsies personally.
To that end, we have to obtain some
Artsies. As is well known, quite a few of 'em
hang out in Arts-type places such as
Starbucks, the CiTR lounge, and the whole
of Kits. Next, we lure 'em back to the res TV
room by dangling a freshly-rented French
film with subtitles (obtained from almost
any video store - where else?- in Kits) in
front of them. It doesn't even matter which
particular French film you rent, as most
Artsies will willingly watch something
they've seen before, as the gods alone know
precisely how short-term their short term
memories are.
Once you've got them, you have to prepare them. Offer them something highly
caffeinated. Lots of something highly caf-
feinated. Now, despite the legendary Artsie
fortitude for latte and other similar beverages, all that caffeine will eventually affect
them adversely. Arrange to leave the room
right at the moment that the latte takes
effect. Bar the doors. After all, you wouldn't
want to be a victim of your own scare.
Now, Arts people are kinda hard to scare,
living as they do in bleak and depressing
worlds of their own creation, but even the
hardiest Artsie will shriek in hideous fright
after constant exposure to several hours of...
a Jerry Lewis comedy marathon! After a
while they'll be clawing at the doors begging
to be let out.
Watching them flee in terror should be a
chuckle in itself.
Editor's note: In order to protect the wonderful
relations between Science and Arts, I'd like to be
the first to say that no one here at SUS could
possibly condone any action whatsoever against
our wonderful friends over therein Buchanan.
Nosirree, not us, nope, no way, just not gonna
We wouldn't want to provoke the awesome
wrath of the juggernaut that is Arts. After all,
their paper really scares me, with all their
thoughtful insights and wicked sarcasm.
John and
All teenage males
(and some females)
are fascinated with
the concept of war and
weapons of war. All this fascination leads to many of
our younger selves spending
long hours in the elementary school library looking
at pictures in such books as
The Art of Destruction, Why
Nuclear Weapons Are Bad,
and, my personal favorite:
1001 Things Your Mom
Won't Approve Of.
Many people contend
that all this exposure to violence at an early age can
cause disturbing effects in
people when they grow up. I
don't think so. You see, I
was at the forefront of the
collective horror research
effort and, as anyone who
knows me can tell you, I
have suffered no ill effects
from it to this day. In fact, I
am perfectly comfortable in
claiming to be completely
Admittedly, me and a few
of my friends did experiment with little articles of
destruction for a while, A
good example of this would
be when I borrowed my
dad's pressure washer, filled
the tank with gasoline
(high-grade, no expense
spared here) and proceeded
to "dampen" an entire block
from the back of a moving
I learned several things
from this experience:
First: Never spray an entire
block with gas if you're
doing it going down a
dead-end street.
Second: If you accidently
complete mistake #1,
don't compound the
problem by proceeding
with the plan to ignite
said street.
Third: Entire burning of an
avenue will attract a lot
of attention, namely
from large guys with a
moustache and a yellow
stripe down the side of
their legs.
Fourth: Gasoline does
wonders to all the little
rubber seals inside pressure washers.
Once my parents posted
bail, I learned the errors of
my ways and settled down.
Besides, I had no idea how
to implement the rest of my
ideas. That was, of course,
until I took Physics 11.
Now don't get me wrong,
it's not like I decided to take
the course for the explicit
purpose of learning how to
attack other human beings
(well, it wasn't my only reason). In fact, the whole concept of actually using science to scare the bejeezus
out of other people didn't
come to me until the middle of a rather boring class
sometime in late October
After several experiments
in propulsion involving
small rockets, we devised a
projectile that would self-
destruct when its fuel ran
out. It worked like this: the
rocket contained an explosive charge that would detonate after the propulsion
cartridge burned through to
the wick at the top.
The whole plan involved firing many of these little
desinens of destruction from
afar at a neighboring elementary school during their
late night Halloween party
(a clever plan to get the
youngsters off the street and
away from danger... bawa-
The stage was set, me and
three of my friends had set
up a launching platform in
a park near our high school,  .
and a fifth party was at the  .
target site with a walkie
talkie and camera to document the event and call
back targeting instructions.
We had over two hundred
handmade rockets waiting
to be launched.
Don't panic, we planned
to have all the rockets detonate at least 150 feet over
the heads of the sweet,
innocent, children. At least
that's what we planned-
After the first batch of ten
hit the target, we realized
that about three from each
batch would take a lower arc
to the target, arrive ahead of
schedule, and implant
themselves in the ground
before detonating. Being the
wisemen we were we decided: "what the hell".
Explosions were going off
every couple seconds at all
altitudes. No one got hurt,
but boy, were they scared!
And isn't that the way
Halloween is supposed to
(* What the hell is a
bejeezus exactly? And why do
people lose them when they get
really scared? After extensive
research, involving a Gomer
Pile Reunion Special and The
Jerry Lewis Telethon cycled
continuously for hours on end,
we have determined a bejeezus
is probably a gland of some
kind.) The Official 432™ Resid
Social Compatibility Test
Ever wonder if that
rather attractive individual sitting on the
other side of the cafeteria is
Mr. or Mrs. Right? Never
had the guts to go over and
find out? Then The 432
Social Compatibility Test is
for you!
It's simple and easy to
use... just take the test to
the right, check off the
appropriate boxes, add up
the corresponding scores
and write that number in
the box at the lower right.
Then, just cut out the
sheet and paste it on your
door. When you're wondering if that special someone
is right for you, just follow
them home and check the
Compatibility Score on their
No need for awkward
introductions and embarrassing ice-breakers - a score
within ±5 points of yours is
a sure winner! Even a gap of
5-10 points could point you
down the road to romance!
Don't forget to bring your
official 432™ Compatibility
Score to parties - you never
know! Good luck!
® How would you describe your room?
□ O A brochure for the Westin Bayshore
□ © Everything is "tucked away" under the bed
□ © Patches of carpet are visible
□ © Can't really describe that smell
□ © Defies several EPA codes
® What's your favorite movie?
□ O Absent Minded Professor
□ © Revenge of the Nerds (Anyone of them.)
□ © The Fugitive
□ © Animal House
□ © Wanda and Her Hot Buttered Midgets
(D Your favorite pet?
□ O Kittens
□ ©Plant/fern/both
□ ©Dog/fish/dogfish
□ © Your roomate in lots of duct tape
□ © Tibetian Spitting Llama
© Your favorite music?
□ © Barry Manilow
□ ©Phil Collins
□ © Early Metallica
□ ©Gwar
□ © Barry Manilow
© You would have sex with:
□ © Only your beloved spouse
□ © Some one you love very much
□ © Some one whom you told you loved very much
□ © A complete stranger
□ © Anything moving under its own power
© What is in your fridge?
□ © Rice cakes and Evian
□ © Fruit stolen from cafe last week
□ © Fruit stolen from cafe last year
□ © I don't know, but it wants the right to vote
□ © Fridge? It ate the fridge.
® Your idea of an ideal night out:
□ Olnevergoout
□ @ Night at the opera
□ ® Movie and/or dance club
□ © Somewhere really loud
□ © Earning extra money on Davie
© Your views on alcohol / drugs?
□ © Never touch either one
□ © Occasional drinker / user
□ © Why wasn't this part of ®?
□ 0 Gimmee! Gimmee!
□ © Whoa! The dwarves are back, man.
Hi, My
Name Is
My Official 432 Social
Compatibility Score is
Letter to Home: Just Add H2O.
Did you forget to send a note home to Mom and Dad this month? Are they threatening to cut off your cash flow just because they feel "they're not an
important part of your life anymore"? Maybe you're too busy to sit down and pen them a letter. Or you're too cheap for a 43 cent stamp. After all,
even if Mom and Dad are paying the education bill, you still need every cent you can scounge for arcade games and junk food.
So buckle down, and write them a letter. It doesn't have to be real. It's doesn't even have to be written by you, if you've got a few bucks to spare.
And if you're really desperate, you can always use the handy-dandy template letter at right. Just cut it out and place under a piece of lined paper. Trace over
the words, and when you get to a blank, choose from the handy 432™ Lexicon-o-Matic. This saves you the hassle of actually spelling the words correctly. And
if you're feeling especially ambitious, you could even use a word not on the list! ( For additional lexicons send cheque ox money order for $5.95 to The 432.)
432™ Lexicon-o-Matic
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Mom, Dad, parole officer, local
wonderfully, fine, horribly
<insert name of educational
institution, mental rehab
study, drink, eat, dig
fell asleep, escaped, brought up
my lower intestines twice, hallu
<insert name of an actual profes
biology, physics, math, chem
istry, piano, singing
rocket scientist, complete moron,
"interesting" fellow
lit the bench aflame, dropped a
full beaker of corrosive chemicals
onto his foot, disproved the
Theory of Relativity, dropped
dead to the floor.
absolutely detest, am barely toler
ating, am in a state of complete
ecstasy from
Totem Park, Place Vanier, Gage
Towers, off-campus
Matsqui Prison, boy scout camp,
that brief stint under the bridge
about the same, only slightly
greasier, better than home
(14) AlanAlda, William Shatner, the
(15) M.A .S.H, that really cool show,
Rescue 911, Glad
(16) operation, blow to the cranium,
well — you know about most of
my problems
(17) ex, grades, roommate, sex life
(18) ignoring it, running, going to the
Pit Wednesday nights
(19) court order, Dean's warnings,
patrimony suit, fact my girlfriend
(20) have a heart attack, get caught,
lose my small-mouthed bass, go
(21) my massage appointment, class,
the bzzr-garden circuit, therapy
(22) charge me twice as much, start
without me, run out of the amber
liquid of life, assume I'm even
more crazy than I am
(23) -cinsert your name hero
(24) my teddy bear, my winter cloth
ing, a camera with film, $200
(25) lonely, freezing in the icebox they
call a rez room, trying to raise my
tuition with a bit of blackmail,
trying to get a commerical spot
for Western Union lence Survival Package*
Schrdedinger's Item Locator.
Has it ever seemed that the item you need the most is the one item you can't find? Ever lost your textbook the night before the exam? Or one of each
and every pair of socks )rou own? Most of us here at The 432 have served time in one or more of UBC's fine student residences. We know what it's like
being unable to see the deep, plush Brillo-pad carpet 'cause your dirty laundry somehow made it out of the hamper to grow and spread across the
entire floor.
Luckily, we (as always) had a cunning solution. Taking Schroedinger's electron probability equation as the starting point, the staff mathematicians were able
to derive what may be considered the greatest leap in human knowledge since Einstein proved relativity.
So, with our newly-patented Probability Locator™, you should have no problem finding any of the common items in a residence room, despite the three
foot layer of crap you need to wade through to reach your bed. Even when you're completely blasted the night before the exam.
44%   pulp fiction
18%   ChiaPets™
18%   knick-knacks
14%   assorted plastic
beer garden cups
4%    cafeteria mystery meat that you
had bronzed for
2%    unexploded water
50% dirty laundry
20% silverfish
10% beer cans
6% dead pens
4% candy wrappers
4% missing homework
3% tacks
3% clean laundry
50%  dirty laundry
30%   clean laundry
10%  unclassifiable
8%  balled-up linen
2%  Sparky (pet tarantula missing since
last Tuesday)
40%   scrap paper (39%
of which will
reveal itself to be
useful course
notes two days
after the exam)
23%   crumbs of
various origin
15%  old beer garden
13%  dull pencils
12%   soiled dishware
6.9% round things
from holepunch
0.1% Post-It note read
ing, "Study this
year, for once"
45%  various drinkables
30%  what may once
have been rotting
20%  rnold experiment
5%  beleaguered box of
baking soda
20%  left-footed shoes
20%  clothes that you
wouldn't be
caught dead wear
15%  unmatched socks
15%  broken sports
15%  textbooks
10%  other assorted
clothing items
5%  deep, dark secrets
Residence Emergency Food Rations.
Too busy in the morning to get breakfast? Running low on Meal Plan points? We want to make sure you are getting the essential vitamins, nutrients, and
fibre necessary to keep both your brain and your bowels working at top efficiency. Good eating habits can now be as easy as cutting out these simple
coupons. So, the next time you're short of time, and your stomach's sending you a clear message, simply grab your scissors, cut out the coupons and
chew. Don't forget to swallow. With The 432 Emergency Residence Food Rations, you'll be getting the same nutrition food value as a real residence meal in a
fraction of the time. (Note: extended use of this product can be hazardous to your health).
Emergency UBC Housing
Food Ration
Emergency UBC Housing
Food Ration
Emergency UBC Housing
Food Ration
U        REBATE        %
<s>    DEADLINE     ^
NOV 22
Dr. James
UBC Medical
Dean of
November 01
Matt s Mental
Matt Wiggin
It's midterm season again;
stress levels are high, and
they'll probably continue
to increase until somewhere
around mid-January when
our parents finally forgive
us for failing Math for the
second time. UBC this time
of year is just twenty-five
thousand people, each waiting to have a nervous breakdown.
Now, nervous breakdowns are kinda messy. It's
akin to sending your brain a
quick note, telling it to pack
its bags and take a short
vacation. Also, they're
rather predictable, and have
lost their shock impact on
professors and the like.
Besides, everyone and their
dog has a nervous breakdown these days, and if
you're gonna fall apart, the
least you can do is to make
it creative.
In that theme, I'd like to
present my handy-dandy
guide to Defense
Defense mechanisms are
one of the best things to
come out of evolution since
sex came on the scene, and
I'm quite sure that without
them, each and every one of
us would be positively batty
by the time we reached adolescence.   For the uninitiated, defense mechanisms are
defined as "unconscious
strategies of the ego that distort reality in order to lessen
anxiety." The first time I
read this, I was immediately
attracted to two things.
First, and most importantly, was the "lessen anxiety" part. I hate worrying, so
I do whatever I can to prevent it. The second part I
liked was the "distort reality" bit. I don't believe in
reality. It's far too complicated, and whenever I
examine it, I always come to
the conclusion that the universe isn't centered around
me, which I don't like.
Simply put, for me, distorting reality is a good thing.
There was one thing I disagreed with: the word
"unconscious." Personally, I
think it's time we learned to
use defense mechanisms
consciously. This part looks
more difficult than it actually is. After all, I'm willing to
believe almost any lie I tell
myself, as long as it's in my
best interests.
But enough explanation,
and on with the application.
Below is a list of the most
commonly used defense
mechanisms, complete with
Denial: despite being the
simplest, this is one of my
all time favourites, because
it's both effective, easy to
use, an excellent choice for
beginners. The central idea
here is that if you close your
eyes tight enough, the problem will ignore you and go
away. e.g. "I'm not impotent, I just haven't felt like it
Regression: ever miss
your childhood? Well here's
your big chance to relive it,
complete with the complete
lack of responsibility.
Regression goes like this:
you do yOur absolute best to
react to problems exactly   ,
like the average five year
old. The difficulty rating
here varies with the individual. (I personally find it
almost second nature.) e.g.
whining to your mom and
dad until they give you a
bigger allowance.
Displacement: I recommend this one only as a last
resort, mostly because
whenever I use it, it back-
firesand everything comes
back on me. It involves taking your frustrations out on
someone you know is not
only completely unresponsible for your problems, but
also utterly helpless to do
anything except get mad at
you for being such a jerk for
no reason (and inevitably
they do.) e.g. beating up
helpless old ladies because
you lost your favourite
underwear in the wash.
Rationalization: this is a
difficult strategy to employ,
but the advantage to it is
that once in place, this
defense mechanism is
almost undetectable, even
to other people. Here's how
it goes: you come up with a
perfectly sane, logical explanation for your behaviour.
The fact that it's completely
untrue is beside the point,
e.g. "I'm just smoking pot to
experiment, and university's
all about learning, right?"
Repression: Far and away
the most difficult of all
defense mechanisms.
Fooling yourself into changing the details of your version of things is one thing,
actually deleting reality is
another. Like rationalization, however, when implemented properly, this one is
extremely effective. For
example, last year, I
repressed an entire six credit
physics course. Didn't go.
Didn't study. Never worried
about it once, becauseas far
as I w^s concerned, it didn't
even exist.
This is by no means a
complete list of all of the
defense mechanisms that
there are out there, but it
will get you started. If all of
these fail, I suggest getting
as drunk as you possibly
can. In my experience, you
always forget your worries
far before becoming incapable of drinking more.
Science vs Arts Challenge
Thursday November 3rd • 12:30pm at Maclnnes Field
Register before Nov. !2 with Tracy or Bella in the
SUS Office (CHEM 160)
$2/person • Teams of 10 (must include 5 women)
United Way Tug-OWar Pete Peterson,
Professional Student.
y^   $y:Gi-EM wcs.
Halloweem IS M*) FAMoClTE
Time of the ^ear..
TO BE-TttE'V CAM fcfc AUYTO/N*   PftcW   ftoVIF
c3Tft(&,<iaKe. HtRjse?,, ahd historical AfccArs.
i.   TO-THIEVES, PlfcMF&i Oft EVU-
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ThIMK. ABOUT   IT ,,,   HaIjLOUOEEM    ic, THE
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LouKCte ^vMe,6*^, THE MavoR of ManliwsJ
I(ft   Euvi-s ,/MK, KlNfc CF  KIW&9. •
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To ip(l*G. IHt^ coCL tAPE ^ PUBUC HE^
fVfERSoM , 'F HOU HAD A Tori ToN&S MA<,K '
U)fc 0;UL!> PUT A Stoop TO<,ETH£fe ...
vr1 " — ■     ■■     — k      	
The Neighbours from Hell.
Tessa Moon
It was a dark and stormy
night... when the doorbell went off. My neighbor stood there as I opened
the door. He puffed evil-
smelling cigar smoke into
my living room, while his
two children, of indeterminate age and gender, happily munched on my doormat.
"Can I borrow your meat
cleaver?" He asked, making
an unlovely attempt to bare
his teeth over an inch-thick
stump of carcinogenic material.
"Meat cleaver?" I echoed
"Meat cleaver," he confirmed with barely
restrained glee that set me
wondering what precisely
he intended to do with it. I
asked him. "I'm going to
murder several small forest
animals and eat them," he
whispered to me confidentially.
"Excuse me, while I...
umm... go set the kitchen
on fire," I said, kicked surreptitiously at his grunting,
rooting offspring, and
slammed the door shut. And
set the deadbolt just in case.
The incident got me
thinking. Granted, one must
have neighbors, unless one
is prepared to set up shop
somewhere in the middle of
the Canadian Shield and
have all one's supplies flown
in. But I can't ever recall
having had one that wasn't
an embarrassment to all the
other primates. Apart from
my current cleaver-happy
friend and his genetically
ambiguous brood, there
lives on my floor a succession of horrors fit only for a
zoo (or maybe politics).
First, there is the little old
lady with a bird named
Mulroney. She sent everyone in the building cookies
for Christmas, and constantly calls people "Dear." Not
bad, eh? The only trouble
with her is her drinking
habit. Every Friday evening.,
she wanders through the
halls, singing a shaky
French rendition of "O
Canada" and attempting to
recruit every occupant of
the floor into a terrorist
organization set on "recapturing Quebec for the King
of France."
Next, there is the med
student. He brings the same
woman home every weekend, and introduces her to
anyone he meets. "Meet
Kim," he said to me when I
ran into him in the elevator
the first week after I moved
into the neighborhood.
"Hello," I said with my
usual cheerful friendliness.
Until I noticed something
odd — about the way Kim
seemed to lean a bit too
heavily on him, and how
the hand she held out
(which he had to support)
was a little, well, skeletal.
And, accustomed as I was to
the vagaries of today's fashion, it did seem somewhat
strange that she should have
no hair and wear "Eau de
"Kim's been my cadaver
for three weeks now," he
announced proudly. "I'm
just getting started on her
small intestines. It's starting
to get serious now, I think."
"Oh," I said in a very
small voice, and plastered
myself firmly against the far
"I'm done with the eyeball, and I've used only
one," He lovingly turned
Kim's head toward me, so
that I could admire the gaping cavity. "Would you like
to have the other one?" He
asked, his face shining with
the beatific radiance of
neighborly sharing.
I might just have chewed
through the metal door if
the elevator hadn't opened
just then.
The med student, though,
is a bastion of normalcy
when compared with the
gentleman who lived briefly
around the far corner of the
corridor. He freely admitted
to being a lawyer, which
should have warned me. He
lived with several large
snakes (the spirit of renewing bonds with his own
kind, he called it). Soon
after he moved in, he decided to sue me for cutting
ahead of him to race up the
stairs. Then he discovered
that all my earthly possessions could fit into a newt's
fanny, so he tried to sue
Madame Quebecois, the
med student, and Kim, in
that order. All to no avail.
He finally tried to sue Mr.
Meat Cleaver the night
before Thanksgiving, and
consequently wasn't seen
again. The police were called
in, and completed an extensive investigation.
Incidentally, I learned
shortly later that Mr. Meat
Cleaver didn't need a turkey
for the family supper that
As a result of the trial,
there is now a vacancy on
the floor. But I don't think
I'll stay long enough to find
out who rny new neighbor
will be.
After all, Christmas is
approaching, and I hear Mr.
Meat Cleaver will be out on
parole soon. He might be
looking for another turkey
substitute. Classifieds. Drawers of SUS.
$200 REWARD rot
return of a big 'Ttrndfa*
Backpack lost fttriay,
October 14 la $m. Call
Contains cassia notes,
etc, Ho om$t$ons asked-
WANTED Good focal
bands to plsyjsoise
Science gigs. A$»»ry to
Dave, SUS SoCo by any
aftes ?^>i«v i*iK quite
sorry but fast not attracted to any of jnrj, 1 apologise for any <xmfosk*n(
The pictures psove noth-
mM —s-
to forther your interests,
Why can't yo« be more
supportive of me? What
about ail that I*m doing
for you?,       ■    .. ^
for sale. Cheap. General
and physics. 224-2279.'
■mmmmt^mfmmtmmmmirmm mi
WANTED; Veninor
Avenue from the
. McDonald's Monopoly
game. Contact The 432
DESPEftATELV needed.
Enthusiastic, elastic, and
slightly elongated woman.
wants tall <?&.2') dark
handsome man tot dose
encounter. Contact the
13te 4$2 for her phone
number. Banking experts
LOOKING for a large bm
fridge, glass fronted for
heavy use in a student
lounge. Contact The 432.
MSSINGi One brain,
approximately 2.3 lsg,
coloured grey. Contact
Dr. Schwartz at UBC
Anatomy Dept, if you
have any information.
WANTED; Two well
greased former Olympic
Athletes for good rimes in
good jello. No duct tape
or weirdos please.
Contact Dana c/o The
JUB432f Now offering
tree classified space for
UBC students to advertise
anything under the sun.
Next dtsadline H
November 7, at 4:32prnJ,
for the issue distributed
on Nov. 14. Priority will
be given to Science students. Drop off ad
w/phone number and
name in CHEM 160.
Faculty of Science Mtg.       Tracy MacKinnon
Dave Khan
Tidbits of what's to come.        AMS Report
The First Annual
Bzzr Garden
Monday, October 31
from 4:32 'til the bzzr runs out
The Chem Grad Lounge
(fourth floor of Old Chem Bldg D)
Bzzr $1.00
Sider $1.00
Free Drink with a costume
no minors, please.
Soon people in Science
will be able to do a
major in Science and a
minor in Arts or Commerce.
To receive a minor, you
must complete 18 credits of
upper level courses (300 or
above) in that department.
This should be in next year's
The failure rate for first
year students continues to
drop as the grades required
to enter Science rise.
Interestingly, enough, as the
GPA rises so does the number of women in Science.
First year Science is now
55% women. No comment
on what that really means.
Jesse Burnett
Internal Stuff.
Well, I guess it's
about time that I
finally wrote for
the most fabulous student
newspaper on campus. I
thought I had nothing to
write about until I was kindly reminded of our elections
earlier this month, our
recent Wine and Cheese and
our quickly developing First
Year Committee. Oh Yeah, I
guess I have been up to
something. As Internal Vice
President I try to lay low
and hope that no one realizes what I've done. But
since I've been discovered I
guess I'll share some of my
little undertakings.
We started the year off
with a successful election
where four positions were
contested and only three
positions were left empty. In
case you're interested the
positions which need to be
filled are Geography Rep,
Geophysics/Astronomy Rep
and Math/Statistics Rep. If
you're in any of these lovely
faculties and wish to
become a member of the
most... most... funny
Undergrad council then
drop your name and number off in the SUS office.
We then welcomed our
new council members by
offering them a chance to
meet the Dean of Science
and a large amount of alcohol at our annual Wine and
Cheese. This event was a
success and any rumors you
hear haven't been proven
and I know for a fact that
the pictures were doctored. I
swear I didn't do anything.
Finally, we will have had
our first First Year
Committee meeting by the
time you read this little
blurb, but if you are in first
year sciences and have some
ideas about how to entertain
your peers feel free to drop
me a note in the SUS office.
We're hoping to hold our
first event on November 18
so keep an eye out for those
On November 3 at
12:30 pm the Health
Sciences Student
Association is having its
annual United Way Tug-O-
War on Maclnnes Field. The
cost is $2 per person and
you have to be on a team of
10 with at least five women.
We're hoping to get a lot of
Science teams so we can
have an Engineering-Arts-
Science Challenge. The AUS
has been heckling us at AMS
Council meetings lately and
we need to prove Science
dominance. Come by SUS
(Chem 160) and talk to
Bella or myself to get on a
The AMS is having a    %»
Special General Meeting on
Friday, November 18 to present the new bylaws for
approval. A budget of
$40,000 has been passed to
cover the costs of this meeting, and the rumour is that
Spirit of the West will be
playing a free, all-ages show.
Those of you who take
the Security Bus at night
must have realized by now
that the Bus doesn't enter
the core area of campus.
This is due to a new policy
of Campus Planning and
Development. So, this
means that in order to catch
the bus, you have to walk
auite a distance across campus in the dark. Kinda
defeats the purpose, doesn't
it? Hopefully CP&D will
change this policy in the
future, as many groups are
incensed by their stupidity
Happy Hallowe'en!
Bella Carvalho
The World in Sports
Time for the bi-weekly
sports update. Science
is the top unit, with
1326 points. In second
place is engineering with
1087 points. Yay for
Upcoming events are the
badminton tourney, deadline for registration is Wed,
2 Nov. and it is held on the
Also coming up is Invade
the Dome for the following
events: Midnight Madness
CoRec Softball, Soccer, Field
Hockey, Ultimate, CoRec
Volleyball Tourney, Mtn
Bike Ramp Climb and Table
Tennis Tourney I.
Registration for all events is
Nov. 10 (except for league
events), and they occur the
14 - 17th of November.
Remember that the deadline for rebates application
is on the 22nd of
November. Please get them
in by the deadline (the earlier the better),"as no extensions will be given! C'est
Agriculture Report.
Hey! This is Dave
Khan, your new SUS
SoCo (no, not
Southern Comfort for all
you naive alcoholics; Social
Coordinator). So I guess
Oktoberfest '94 was a grand
success ... considering all the
drunk people and the copious amounts of alcohol we
went through, I should
think so! And what a great
band, eh ...? EH? So much
for fire limits and power
outages ... I guess SUB circuit breakers just are not
designed for 17 000 watts of
pure music power.
And what was up with
the bar...? Do you guys really think you're going to get
BZZR any faster if you crush
the people in front of you as
flat as pieces of fine
rine-based-chemical MacBlo
paper products?
Anyway, the point is,
everyone had fun, and few
got hurt. It's all in good fun
until someone loses an eye,
and I don't think that happened, although many did
lose whole pitchers of bzzr
and hard alcohol; I know I
myself was covered, as was
my friend Mike and Bella,
the Sports Director
Seriously though, folks,
this article doesn't seem to
be going anywhere, and
since it is now 1:00 am the
day of the deadline (my
Timex© Ironman™ watch
just beeped), let's cut
straight to the cheeze ... If
our budget holds out, we've
got a ton planned for this
year ... Look for the
"Nothing happens in
November" Bzzr Garden in
the SUB Partyroom,
Thursday, November 10,
1994 at 4:32 p.m.
Come out; bring your
friends; be a rebel without a
cause and openly defy
a) Fire Regulations
b) Blood Alcohol Content
It should be a great
party... if I remember any of
it this time and don't have a
run-in with our friends the
"Campus Cops" and the
good-ole Gendarmie Royale
Canadien (GRC) (RCMP for
all you unilingual Reform-
esque people out there).
Hope to see you all out at
one of these functions ...
university is about having a
good time and meeting people, too... (of course/don't
all show up at once; I don't
think there is a place on
campus that can hold 4 662
drunk Science Students!!!)
See ya around!
I'll be the one in the corner, sipping my bzzr and
thinking "What if?"... Bins
UBC Student Government
Notice to All Members of
The Alma Mater Society
The Alma Mater Society of U.B.C. will be holding a Special General Meeting
on Friday, November 18 to consider the approval of new Bylaws for the Society.
The Meeting will start at 5:30 pm in the War Memorial Gym. Members will be
asked to vote on the following question only:
"RESOLVED that the proposed Bylaws of the Alma Mater Society of the University
of British Columbia, as circulated, be and are hereby approved."
Janice Boyle, Vice President
After the consideration of this question there will be a
rose chronicler
m  §
Doors Open at 4:00
Doors Close at 5:30 pm
VALID A.M.S. STUDENT   I.D.  REQUIRED The Article That Ate the Back Page.
Having recently been
paroled from the UBC
Housing System, I've begun
to discover some of the
many benefits to living off-
campus. Not that my four-
year sentence -1 mean,
sojourn - in rez was particularly terrible... except, of
course, for that purple octopus tentacle, suckers and all,
that I found in the Vanier
salad bar one day... (The
funny thing is, you probably think I'm joking about
that, don't you? Ask me
about it sometime.)
One of the more tangible
improvements, interesting
variations on salad notwithstanding, is the freedom to
own and keep pets. Actually,
I should qualify that statement; UBC Housing does
allow custody of a wide variety of our animal friends, as
long as the critter in question:
a) can fit inside a Sucrets
b) cannot escape from said
Sucrets box, and
c) will not give your roommate a coronary when it
mysteriously crawls its
way into the foot of his
her bed.
That last one pretty much
narrows it down to fish.
Naturally, the thought of
watching guppies and goldfish bump into the sides of
the bowl hardly translates
into hours of riveting entertainment, but UBC Housing
definitely encourages keeping fish - in fact, they even
give every resident about
three of four hundred silver-
fish to take care of during
the year.
But I digress. During the
last few months, my friends
and I have acquired quite
the menagerie between our
households, encompassing
everything from dogs to cats
to birds and beyond. With
that, I'd like to introduce
some of them.
Seeing as we've been
speaking of fish, Walter is a
suitable specimen with
which to begin. Walter is a
joint effort between my
friend Frank and I, and
came to pass as a rather
spur-of-the-moment leap of
One day, Frank received
his fish tank from home,
courtesy of his mother in
Ontario. O how excited we
were, as we cleaned the
tank, set the filter and triumphantly galloped off to
the pet store in search of
would-be colonists.
Consequently, you can
imagine our mild disillusionment when, after filling
the thing with fish, we sat
back and watched most of
our new companions kick
the bucket. And you know
how it is with fish - they
don't jump up in the air and
explode when they go or
anything. No, they just
sorta lean over to one side
and die off in that slow,
painfully dull sort of way
that only accountants seem
to be able to imitate.
As this enthralling process
was going on, we decided
that the dying process
should at least be made
somewhat more engaging
and climactic; this led us to
the rather obvious conclusion that the only thing that
could possibly be more
exciting than watching fish
croak slowly while swimming around the tank
would be watching them
croak quickly while being
eaten by a piranha.
Enter Walter, who now
enjoys a large happy home
all to himself. He's never
lonely, though; he has
guests from the tank next
door over for dinner all the
Meanwhile, Frank's roommate, Bob, decided to up
the ante in the pet game by
going for the throat and
acquiring a dog during a
visit to West Edmonton
Mall. I don't really have any
hilariously catastrophic stories concerning ol' Deef,
except that:
a) the name "Deefer" is
short for "D-for-Dog".
It's not my fault.
b) Deefer is, apparently, a
cross between - get this -
a Rottweiler and a
Cocker Spaniel. That's
definitely not my fault;
in fact, I'm just gonna
let you, the reader, figure out the sheer logistics of that match for
And so we come to my
contribution to all this. I've
always been rather partial to
birds; maybe I read Treasure
Island too much as a kid,
but I've always wanted to
get a parrot. So, I did, about
two months ago. Mick is a
five-month-old Goffin cockatoo, about the size of a
large pigeon. He's very
tame, very clever, and very
loud. What this adds up to
is a rather over-affectionate
piece of poultry that enjoys
nibbling at your ear, chewing to bits anything he can
get his beak on, and sounding off like an air-raid siren
every time you leave him
alone in a room. Of course,
every now and then he does
combinations on these
themes - for example, he'll
chew everything to bits as
soon as you leave the room,
or sound off like an air-raid
siren while nibbling at your
ear. It's terrible. There's little
bite marks in everything
from my bookshelf to my
belts, and I keep wanting to
answer the telephone due to
the incessant ringing in my
Inconveniences aside,
however, Mick is a pretty
cool pet. He's still pretty
young, so he isn't talking
yet, but it shouldn't be too
long. This is why I don't
leave the TV on during the
day to keep him company;
there'd be nothing worse
than having a bird whose
favorite word was, "Oprah."
Gustav is my girlfriend
Leah's cat. His full name is
Gustav Klimt, after the
famous painter. Personally, I
don't think this is the best
name she could have
picked... based on his daily
exercise regimen, diet, eating habits, total lack of
unassisted movement and
disturbing tendency to drool
all over himself, I usually
just call him Jabba the Catt.
I'm serious. This thing
lives the most stupendously
catered lifestyle on the planet. Look up sedentary in the
dictionary and it says please
see Leah's lazy doorstop of a
cat. It's not a cat; it's a bean
bag chair with eyes. Its daily
schedule consists of the following:
1. Wake up.
2. Reconsider. More sleep.
3. Wake up.
4. Be carried to food dish
by Leah, drooling all the
way in anticipation.
5. Breakfast.
6. Meow.
7. Be carried to couch by
Leah, drooling all the
way in anticipation.
8. Sleep.
9. Repeat steps 1-8, until
Leah can no longer pick
him up without a winch.
Makes a Roman Emperor
look like Grizzly Adams,
doesn't it? To his credit,
however, he's infinitely
more affectionate and cuddly than your average
Roman Emperor (although I
hear that underneath that
callous, let-them-hate-so-
long-as-they-fear exterior,
ol' Caligula was a real pussycat deep down).
This rather inventive
moniker comes courtesy of
my roommates, who went
to all the trouble of getting
themselves a kitten and
somehow couldn't come to
a consensus on by what it
should be called. Oh well...
What this little tiger lacks
in, er, spatial perception,
she certainly makes up for
in raw exuberance; this we
discovered when we let her
out of the house for the first
time. My theory is that she
had spent too much time
cooped up in the house
watching Mick, and was
thus operating under the
misapprehension that she
too was a bird.
Consequently, when we let
her outside, she decided to
try out her wings and take a
brisk flying leap off the second-floor back porch.
A brief visit to Mr. Vet
later, Cat now thumps
around the house in a large
cast on her broken front leg.
Personally, I think this completes the whole Treasure
Island thing - if I can just
get her to keep that pirate
hat on her head and get
Mick to stay on her shoulder, I think we might have
That about sums up the
pets I know. The only disturbing part about all of
these weird stories is that
they say pets often emulate
and imitate their owners...
oh dear. Excuse me a
minute; Frank's eating the
guppies again...
(Editor's Note: Apologies to
all ofya out there who just
waded through Roger's latest
attempt at a novella but didn't
find it all that amusing. Wait!
What did I just say? Everyone
finds Roger's articles funny!
Phew! I feel better. Like I was
saying, you can all thank me
later for running Roger's latest
attempt at a novella...)
Instant Pumpkin!
Did you forget to carve yourself a
jack'o' lantern this year? Well, as a
last minute bonus, we're like to
present this nifty cut-out so you won't feel
left out of the Hallowe'en spirit.
Directions for use:
1) Cut out
2) Colour with crayon of your choice
(orange is best)
3) Place in window
4) Light on fire
For a slightly safer version of this product, simple tape to your window and hold
a flashlight behind it.
And as an added bonus, your Cut-Out
Jack'O Lantern will double as a mask for a
last minute costume.
(This product may be prohibited by law in some areas.
Consult your local fire department for more details)


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