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The 432 Oct 4, 1993

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Array Founded in 1987.
Inexplicably
persisting to this day.
" Maybe I'll
just be Pope. W
AMS President Bill Dobie
Vol 7 No 3 • 4 Oct'93
SUS PULLS AHEAD OF
NDP IN LATEST POLL
"Only Schevardnadze could lose to those bozos," jubilant President gloats
Kevin Phillips Bong
Roving Correspondent
VANCOUVER (UPI)—In
one of the most shocking developments of the 1993 election
campaign, a recent poll shows
the Science Undergradute Society coalition garnering more
public support than the bruised
and battered New Democratic
Party.
According to Honest Ed's
Polls &c Debt Consolidation of
Ottawa, national backing for
the SUS has reached an all-time
high of 0.04% of decided voters. The NDP, on the other
hand, has experienced a sharp
decline in their support, with
only Audrey MacLaughlin
favoring a government under
leader Audrey MacLaughlin.
The polling agency reports an
error margin of ±45%.
Reaction at NDP headquarters in Vancouver-Science riding
was swift. A telephone survey
was conducted immediately to
try to determine the underlying
cause for sagging public support. Explanations ranged from
a "...fundamental lack of confidence in the nature of party
direction and platform," to
"Audrey totally looks like Skeleton Ewwww!"
Within the NDP camp, spirits were high despite the news.
"Well, sure, we've taken a bit of
a national beating in terms of
credibility and public: support
and good policy and stuff like
that, but I think we can pull out
of it," said campaign coordinator Michael Dukakis. "You
know, we'll build up her image a
bit... more public appearances,
do the talk-show circuit, parade
her around in a tank... um,
scratch that last one."
Liberal Leader Jean Chretien
was surprised by the news, saying, "Well, it certainly represents a big step for the SUS
party... hey, you're touching my
face, aren't you? I can feel that,
you know, so knock it off."
Political pundits are predicting a strong showing by the
SUS team, which has gained
support steadily over recent
years on a platform of better
campus parties, cheaper bzzr,
and blonde presidents.
"I see that the Tories have
picked up on that last bit of
campaign strategy," observed
SUS president Sarah Thornton,
flipping her bangs out of her
eyes. Interestingly enough, the
1980 and '84 SUS candidates
were renowned for their prominent chins.
When asked if SUS had any
national plans, responses were
cautious. "Well, there's this
deficit thing, and we are being
audited as it is..." explained
Director of Finance Jason
Holmes. External VP Steve
Coleman voiced reservations:
"This means I'll have to go to
Ottawa a lot. If it's anything like
my visits to the Cheeze...well...I
hear the Rideau Canal gets pretty cold this time of year. "
Not all of the caucus felt
intimidated by the prospect of
someday becoming the government. "I'm all for it. I've been
preparing for this kind of
opportunity all my life. I would
feel right at home," announced
Jon-Campbell Dinkleheimer-
Smith, SUS Director of Bureaucracy remote by satellite off his
catamaran somewhere south of
Tiki-Tiki.
With a few short weeks left to
go in the election race, it would
seem that this poll buries the
NDP's chances of garnering
enough public backing to make
a serious bid for a MacLaughlin
government. "Ah well," said the
NDP leader, "I understand Ed
Broadbent's still throwing one
helluva defeat party. Just like in
the good ol' days."
11:30-2:30. 6-8 OCTOBER
with special guest feature
PRO By-Elections!
Polling Stations
Eric Clapton... Accidentally Plugged Back In.
Wed, Oct 6 — Hebb, CSCI, Wood, SUS & CHEM
Thurs, Oct 7 — Probably Wood & SUS
Fri, Oct 8 — Hebb, CSCI, Wood. SUS & CHEM Editorial     "Treasure" found at UBC
Ryan
McCUAIG
The UBC Bookstore just
called me the other day,
inquiring about a Customer Service questionnaire I'd filled out
recendy. Ever diligent, they
seemed rather concerned that, as
a first-year student, I not be forever saddled with a bad impression of the quality of the service
that they provide. It seems I was
rather disgrunded with the fact
that they had specially ordered a
computer for me, that, upon
arrival, turned out to not be the
one I had ordered. So they
prompdy called to set things
straight.
After some momentary confusion (I must be more unconscionably dull than I thought if
filling out Bookstore questionnaires is what I do during my
reasonably infrequent blackout-
intensity benders), I realized that
I had, in fact, filed this questionnaire two years ago. The tip-off
was a combination of a) knowing that I'm currendy in third
year, and b) reasonable arithmetic skills.
Okay, maybe we should
scratch the prompt bit...
•
Once again, postering season
has begun for the year. It stays
reasonably calm and low-key
until about January, at which
point things really pick up and
stay that way until late March.
If I were a tree on Main Mall,
I'd find the annual poster rash a
tad insulting. Disgusting, even.
And I wouldn't be able to do a
damn thing about it.
I imagine it would be roughly
equivalent to being forced to
stand there while someone stapled thin slices of pastrami,
made from various bits of people I used to know at the Bus
Loop, to my chest.
Insult to injury, I tell ya.
There's actually an art to postering the hell out of the campus. Having been through four
elections at UBC (and already
thinkin' about numbers five and
six), I think I've got a good handle on the finer points. Everyone
follow the bouncing ball and
sing along:
RULE 1: If you can't post
something nice, don't post anything at all.
Being a designer, I admit that
I tend to be somewhat overcriti-
cal of most posters from a strict
design standpoint. Most people
come out of an encounter with a
desktop publishing system with
their eyes glazed over, clutching
a single piece of paper that
would, in times past, have
resulted in the bearers being
hauled downtown on possible
kidnapping charges. It's not like
Tupperware; there are no free
gifts for using every font on the
menu. If you want to avoid
wasting your time, I highly recommend picking up a good
introductory book on graphic
design. And remember that
DTP is not for everyone. If you
don't know how to use it, a
word processor and a glue stick
will force better results.
RULE 2: No neon green.
Or any other obnoxious fluorescent colour. I don't think this
rule needs much explanation.
Besides, since everyone uses that
damned green paper, white
posters stand out really well.
(The irony is stunning...)
RULE 3: Don't rip any other
posters down until they have
exceeded their useful term.
Even if in an environmental
snit, this is counterproductive.
Whoever put it up will just
replace it the next day, thereby
wasting more paper. Anything in
contravention of Rule 2, however, is fair game.
Well, that about ends my aesthetics rant.
Hmmm... I was just thinking about what it means to be
editor in the broader sense...
(ed. Very weak transition.
Actually, the whole article's a bit
disjointed. Maybe we should
scrap it.)
No, we shouldn't. Shut up. As
I was saying—
(ed. What's the matter? Feeling a little defensive about editing our own article, are we?)
Yes, we are. What are we
doing here, anyway?
(ed. We're having a deadline-
induced breakdown. We're
developing multiple personalities.)
No, we aten't. We're filling
space.
(ed. Ah, but how would we
know the difference between the
usual Editorial "We" and an
actual problem? Maybe we aren't
just filling space...)
I suppose that's a good point.
How about if we just close it off
soon, lest this become any more
tired a humour device than it
already is?
(ed. I think we like that idea.)
Right. Hope all you out there
in Readerland enjoy the rest of
the issue.
(ed. Oo, what a finish! What
a comeback! What a finale!
What a—
 Blair McDonald
Columnist
Sources within the President's Office have revealed
the discovery of a large cache
of "gold doubloons" at the
construction site outside the
Scarfe Buildings.
Mr. Thomas Home, past
editor of Treasure Hunter's
Weekly, and one of the President's Special Assistants, is
quoted in a recent Adminstra-
tion press release as saying, "It's
been a well known fact among
elite treasure seekers that a significant sum in gold doubloons was hidden by Captain
Rum in 1783 somewhere in
the Point Grey area. Only
problem was that no one knew
exactly where."
Rumour has that the exact
site was pinpointed by Dr.
David Strangway, President of
the University and noted geo-
physicist, using a map that
turned up in the Main Library
Archives five years ago during
a routine inventory.
An unnamed source from
Campus Planning and Development recently revealed that
the much-touted Campus Plan
may have been nothing but an
elaborate excuse to excavate on
a number of sites on campus.
"Sure, it was necessary," he
confided. "You can't just walk
up and start digging holes all
over the place without a—"
(looks both ways, whispers)
"—Plan. There's a... Plan for
everything—notice how no
one ever suspected we were
looking for treasure while we
were building Green College,
CICSR, or the new Brock
Hall. It's all just a part of
The... Plan."
Details of The... Plan are
sketchy, but from all accounts
the majority of the new construction over the last five
years have been part of the
cover-up. Most new building
locations correspond to spots
indicated on the map.
By building on the sites, the
Adminstration would theoretically be able to keep—tax-
free—any objects found during the course of excavation.
The treasure, expected by
Adminstration officials to
exceed $200 million Cdn, was
found on the Scarfe site, the
20th and final location marked
on the map.
Recent chemical analysis of
the map, however, shows the
majority of locations to be
marked with a mixture of
Heinz ketchup and pickle
juice.
Estimates of construction
costs are well over $1.1 billion
Cdn over, the last five years.
Assessors from Christie's Auction House, London, England
were flown over on a charter
jet to verify the find. They
priced the recently dug up
treasure—"consisting primarily of gold-covered chocolate
coins and a map made of
stiched-together Hubba Bubba
wrappers"— at no more than
fifty dollars "based on the current market price of chocolate
today."
When contacted, spokesmen for the President's Office
declined to comment, saying
only that the confusion over
the entire matter "was normal
for an operation of this complexity" and that a special
committee of Senate would be
struck to determine what went
wrong.
Upon hearing the University press releases, Todd Ablett,
SUS president in 1988, made
the following comments:
"Somebody believed that
thing? Five years ago, we made
a map showing the location of
a bag of White Spot doubloons and a coupon for a keg
of beer from SUS. It was going
to be an annual event—after
all, hunting for that free keg of
beer should appeal to the 'geers
and all. Builds campus spirit,
right? Since no one ever bothered to collect the prize, we
figured the map had been lost
somewhere during the contest.
Ah, well..."
The President's Office today
announced the retirement of
Thomas Home, previously
Special Assistant to the President.
Ablett was unable to recall if
the event was repeated the following year. The Conch
Volume 7, Ho 3
4 October 1993
Ryan the Merciless
Editor
Roger the Absent
Graeme the Loopy
Assistant Editors
Contributors	
Leona Adams, Matt
Brzzr, Steve Coleman*
Peter Cronhelm, Kevan
Dettlebach, Jason
Holmes, Graeme
Kennedy* Ryan McCuaig..
Blair McDonald, Derek
K. Miller, Jane
Ramsbotham, Melanie
Srapleton, Sarah
Thornton, Laurie Yee,
and Rog something-or-*
other.
Typing .
Blair McDonald, Trevor
Presley
Layout	
Graeme Kennedy, Ryan
McCuaig, Roger Watt*
Distribution
Keebler Elves Local 2461
Printing
College Printers, Vancouver,
B.C.
The 432 is produced in th«
Science Undergraduate Society
offices, located between Wreck
Beach and Burnaby
somewhere.
Submissions to The 432
should be about 500
words m length, proofread, and extremely silly
in nature. Serious or
sombre material will be
burned for heat and
mocked for decades by
everyone around here.
Graeme
KENNEDY
A few years ago I thought a
./Ypoltergeist was abusing
my TV. For no reason at all, it
would change channels, turn
on and off and the volume
would rise and lower. Rather
than submit to my instinct
and just shoot the damn thing,
always the skeptic, I decided to
conduct a series of experiments
and discovered that the driving
force behind this mysterious
activity was my Slinky, This is
no lie. Dad was less than suj*-
portive with this amazing discovery. "Oh, sure. That makes
sense. Here..." (squeezing his
steak) "This makes the car
start." It took years to get a
real explanation. It seems that
the old remote control (clickers) were based on sound, and
my Slinky seemed to emulate
the signals.
Some friends of mine lost
their TV remote on Christm as
day. After weeks of frantic
searching, the poor remote was
written off as lost and mourning began. About a month
later, during a movie, the TV
changed channels. And again.
We froze. Nothing. We
moved, volume! The quest
began. By a process of elimination, we zeroed in on a big
floppy chair, where somebody
seemed to be able to control
that idiot box by various
movements of her body. A
search of the couch revealed
nothing, so knives appeared to
open the upholstery. An
admission came forward that a
replacement had been purchased (for an arm and a leg)
and the joke was on us, as the
signal was being bounced off
the inside of the French glass
from the kitchen. Very funny.
There was some hesitation
before closing our Swiss army
knives.
What is it about the remote
control that brings out the
primitive in everybody? I have
no use for the thing if I am not
changing the channels or volume or whatever, and I tend to
put it down. It's picked up in a
moment and cradled in the
hand by somebody or other
within fifteen seconds. Actually, I have two: one for the
stereo and one for the VCR.
But, like salt and pepper, they
tend to move around as a unit.
The stereo remote is the jewel
in the crown of my remote collection: it actually can do
everything the other remotes
do and more! Sometimes I
stand in my room and undo .
whatever commands my roommates are trying to do. They
turn it up, I turn it down.
They change the channel, I
change it back. Not exactly
cerebral humour, but it helps
to pass the time. Like some
nineties variation from Lord
Of The Flies, this little plastic
conch musters the control of
the household. So powerful are
these radio transmitters that
they have been known to cause
serious disorder in a household
or even break up relationships
completely. Their value is so
obvious, we can see why someone would even want to steal
one.
I caught a burglar in my
boxer shorts. I know this is an
old joke, but it actually
applies here. Turns out it
wasn't a roommate unplugging
my stereo equipment at 3 AM
(coulda been). While stepping
out to help what I thought was
a really rude roommate, I actually surprised a burglar. This is
when the chase began. He
tucked my VCR under his
arm, and, remembering what
he really came for, picked up
that all-important remote in
his other hand on the way out
the door. For some reason
(now, remember it was 3 AM),
I followed. I sprinted after him
out of the living room and
into the hall, onto the porch,
down the stairs, around the
front to the side, into the back
and it was while I was tap-
dancing from sharp stone to
exposed root in the old-growth
rainforest which passes for a
backyard, that the idiocy of
my predicament became
apparent. I was running
around in the dark, in my bare
feet, wearing nothing but the
Kokanee boxer shorts my sister
gave me as a joke birthday present, with neighbors from the
mental patients' halfway-house
next door looking at me like
we should trade places. How
do I know I won't get arrested
if I flag down the police?
Besides, he was at least a foot
taller, so what would I do if I
caught him anyway? Why, in
fact, was I even standing outside in the cold wondering
why I was standing outside in
the cold? I didn't need my
remote that badly.
So, I curled up in bed again
and dialed 911. The operator
informed me that there was a
car here already. I looked out
the window to see a VPD
squad car out front of my
house. This led me to three
possibilities:
1: The VPD has really, really, good service.
2: The 'geers have taken a
new, proactive approach to
Cheeze security, and have me
under surveillance, with the
help of the local police.
3: I underestimated the seriousness of the skinny-dipping
in Stanley Park' episode.
As it turns out, the pinhead
who was pushing buttons on
my remote also took one from
next dooh^rTepractii^illy ran
into the officer before I even
called the police. The officers
were happy to return my toys
right away. But I was happier. I
had my remote back. Slept
with it under my pillow.
Switch off.
The Crossword
THIS WEEK'S THEME: People We'd All Prefer Not To Wake Up With.
' 1
2
1   1   II
3
r   _lt_lt_
5
i
7
8
9
10
	
11
12
•
13
ACROSS
l.PM.
4. Before PM.Kinda AM, I guess..
5. Sleeps with Jeff.
10. Kramer.
11. Sleeps with Ernie.
12. Sleeps with Bert.
13. Sleeps with Akbar.
DOWN
2. BC Lions Owner.
3. Julia Roberts doesn't seem to mind this one very much.
6. Sleeps with Tom.
7. Went out with JFK. Now gives just about everyone a
"cold shoulder"
8. Doh!
9. Sleeps with Roseanne.
•pjousy ujojl -g 'uosdujTS .rauiofj "8
'Mnioy^ uXfutp^ '/ 'auuroso^j -g *uaA<rj ai/i •£ 'uireaj Aumyi "i :umoQ Campus Wars, Part III
Kevan
DETTLEr
BACH
Meanwhile, Dobiewan confronts Vader.
Vader : Now the circle is complete. When you left, I was
but a frosh. Now I have a
masters.
Bill :It's only a Masters of Arts.
Vader and Bill fight. Bill pretends to fall for the bldElvis-is-
behind-you trick and vanishes.
This buys enough time for the
others to escape. They make their
way to the Science secret base in
CHEM 160.
Rebel:  Leah, when we heard
about Angus, we feared the
worst.
Leah :   We can mourn later.
The information in this calculator must be analyzed. I
only hope a weakness can be
found.
Later...
Leah:    We've analyzed the
Bylaws and think we've
found a weakness. If we can
get 1000 signatures, we can
cut off the Ubyssey's funding. Quick, head count.
Rebels : 1, 2, 3 ... 982, 983,
984.
Leah :   Damn. Let's take a
look at the SUB blueprints
Peter Cronhelm
Columnist
I seem to have fallen through
some sort of Star-Trekkian
space warp. You know, the
kind that have the intrepid
crew of the Enterprise on some
planet that looks exactly like
Chicago circa 1920 or Nazi
Germany with a purple Hitler.
The planet I have warped to
mimics Earth in every way
except for some very strange
yet subtle differences.
The students all seem perfectly normal... it's the profs
that I'm not sure about.
Consider my soil prof, for
instance, whose teaching style
would seem to indicate that he
freebases about five pounds of
coffee right before class. Surely
a lifetime of studying dirt
would affect even the most
again.
Later...
Leah :   The Ubyssey has discovered us and the time to
strike is now. We've learned
that the Editor himself will
be present. Along the east
,side of SUB is a set of windows. Behind this one is the
offices of the Ubyssey. The
glass is bullet-proof, so you'll
have to use hand grenades.
The target area is only 2
meters wide, and to avoid
security, attack runs must be
done at high speed.
DISCLAIMER: This is a
work of fiction. In real life, a
petition is a much better way
to shut down a campus newspaper. Even if that fails, one
should not use hand-grenades.
Please do not view this story as
condoning lobbing explosives
at newspaper offices, even if
the newspaper in question
publishes offensive crap. However, if you do decide to lob
grenades at a campus newspaper, remember it is only illegal
 if you get caught.	
Rebel: That's impossible,
even with a calculator.
Luke :   It's not impossible. I
used to bulls-eye hookers
with pennies down on Rob-
son Street. They're less than
two meters.
Leah :   Good luck, and may
the Force be with you.
After a battle with security
forces, Luke is preparing to make
his attack.
Rebel:  Luke, you've shut off
your calculator. What's
wrong.
Luke :   (Drawing his slide-
rule) Nothing. I'm all right.
(Pulls pin)
Vader : The Force is strong in
this one. (Pulls along side
Luke) I have you now...
Bill: (Materializes beside Luke)
Use the Force, Luke.
Luke:   What!Ahhhhh!
Luke loses control of his car.
He side-swipes Vader sending the
dark lord into a ditch. The
grenade flies out of Luke's hand,
but guided by the Force, it scores
a direct hit on the window...
Editor: And then I thought
we'd do a follow up with a
sex with citrus fruit article...
(Crash) Well, speak of the
devil. Look here everyone, a
pineapple. <Boom>
The resulting explosion sets off
a chain reaction destroying the
entire building. Science forces
are more than able to mop up
any remaining resistance. Solo
and Chewtobacca got their
reward and drank it in one
weekend, setting a new Engineering record.
May the Force be with you,
but beware the Arts Side.
UBC Entrepreneurs Club
Presents Guest Speaker
JIM "JIMBO"
PATTISON
Friday, October 8th,
12:30 PM,
SUB Auditorium*
Public Welcome.
\ 9N?6l3IL0Gy,
CLUB
&**>Ga>4ch!
&@®^
t>*tet October 15th, 1993
PImk IRC (Watch for signs!)
Vi»*.  4:30-7:30
Alternate Universes
ordinary among us, but this
guy has left the building along
with Elvis. I think half the students show up only to see if he
will explode during class.
To add to the entertainment: the other day he proceeded to blow me out of my
seat by explaining the physical
laws governing the colour of
the sky. I was in shock; I
couldn't believe that there was
a real scientific answer to that
age-old rhetorical question
"Why is the sky blue?"
I had always thought that
the colour of the sky was the
sort of thing that every human
being over the age of five could
take for granted. You know,
much like the generally
acknowledged non-existence of
a fat, jolly philanthropist in a
red suit. Imagine being presented with irrefutable proof of
the existence of Santa Claus.
It's enough to make your brain
perform double back flips
without a safety net.
Rhetoric seems to have no
place in my current universe.
If what my prof says is the
truth then why were my parents not notified? My father
has a university education, and
my mother taught high school,
but the only answer that I ever
heard was then one that starts
and ends with "Because."
Maybe my parents knew all
along, and decided it was better that I not learn the truth.
After all, that was their
approach to sex education (like
I wouldn't figure it out sooner
or later.)
I was also under the impression that microbiology
involved the serious investigation of the structures and
chemistry concerned with bacteria. Apparently not, in this
world. The other day we discussed the holes in Swiss
cheese. Did you ever wonder
how they get the holes in Swiss
cheese? I didn't either, but rest
assured that it doesn't involve
blowing air through a straw.
The Keebler elves don't seem
have anything to do with it
either.
Another bothersome little
point is that my Animal Science prof is a little bit odd.
No, no, he doesn't have a
tail, or anything obvious like
that.
It's just that he keeps taking
the class on tours of the University's research farms to pet
the cows and sheep. This
always brings back those hazy
memories of a kindergarten
field trip to a petting zoo
where this city boy came face
to snout with all the farm animals that don't normally roam
along Broadway.
Now, don't get me wrong—
cuddling cows beats performing acid/base titrations any
day—but I am fairly confident
that in my world of origin, an
institute of higher learning as
prestigious as UBC would not
spend millions of dollars funding a petting zoo. A quick
look though the lab manual
didn't turn up any colouring or
fingerpainting exercises, but I
am still a little suspicious.
If anybody has some old
episodes of Star Trek or The
Next Generation on video, I'd
like to borrow them. I need to
find out how to get back to my
own world before midterms.
Now how would Kirk handle
this?... Sarahs Science
Nitpick of the Week
Dik Miller, Tree Hugger
.»- *«~
odOntlt
SawJG
»x«Vedinay
that
-n«e
«ee
byTmyaStaer
Woyouknowi&ati
Oipfceum Sunday rdfl
Cous*
"Well, Cousteau had actually said that
about the grey whales. But, hey... I mean, a
fish is a fish, so we'll let it slide this time..."
ihemistry  Oociety of 'Uanada Presents:
The First Bxxr Garden Of The Year
Friday, October 8th
Come see our new addition in furniture!
□ $2.00/Bxxrf>
□ First bxxr
free for
Members
(bring card)
□ Discounts
for mugs.
□ CHEM
D228
vw.'.;**-.-:^..-...-.
Hurry!       f<] We'll make it!]
0r we'll be latef^l It's 4 - 7pm
**£n ^"tn  ^*&x
Battle for tlie Trees:
Robson Square Media Centre
 Peter Cronhelm
Just rackin' up
the article credits...
The only environmentally
friendly way to travel to
the theater to see this movie
was to fire up the old black
Cadillacs and walk.  The air
was cool and clean but not too
crisp, a perfect evening for a
stroll along the pusher- and
pimp-lined boulevards of Vancouver's inner city. However
the warm fuzzy emotions I was
feeling as I communed with
Nature were tempered by the
knowledge that I had consumed an ecologically
unsound dinner of meat byproducts.
You got it. Hotdogs.
The food was just material
to sustain life but the movie
was an emotional rollercoaster.
My feelings ran the gamut
from frustration at the continued destruction of the forest;
to hope "for the future preservation of the remaining temperate rainforest in BC.
Of course the joy may have
been due to the fact that I was
completely avoiding some
messy and rather boring
homework.
Anyways it was a good
movie so if you missed it, and
would like to know what it
was all about, too bad.
I am not going to tell you,
so next time get off your lazy
ass; and make the trip yourself,
instead of just: reading about it.
Oh, yeah, and some surly
imperialist Club Monaco-ed
dork cut me off as I tried to
pass on the outside of the sidewalk. Bastard.
mm.       J^BereitK.
>aMILLER
We last left our intrepid hero,
Dik Miller, recovering at the
side of the road after being booted off a bus on the way to the
Clayoquot Sound anti-logging
blockade.
It was a long walk down the
twisting highway to the
information booth set up by
anti-logging protesters. I was
hauling my trusty Dik
Miller™ suitcase/emergency
life raft/satellite tracking station on my back, which made
it seem even longer. At last the
ramshackle booth hove into
view.
I saw one of the attendants
look up at me. His eyes
widened and he began gesticulating wildly at his companions. They all turned to look at
ine. Then four of them broke
off at a run towards me. I
stopped, wondering what they
were up to.
I soon found out as they
arrived, stripped the suitcase
from my back (throwing me to
the ground in the process),
and began stomping furiously
cm it.
"What the hell are you
doing?!" I shouted.
The suitcase burst open,
spewing my Dik Miller™
thermal socks/oven mitts, Dik
Miller™ long
u nderwear/emergency sailcloth, Dik Miller™ toothpaste/door caulking, and
GummiBears® all over the
dusty roadside.
"Hey!" I cried again. "I said,
what the hell are you doing?!"
They kept stomping.
"Oi, mates, stop that, will
you?" called a voice from
behind me. I turned to see an
extremely tall, completely bald
man striding purposefully
from the info booth.
"Hey!" I said again, rather
redundantly. "You're Peter
Garrett from Midnight Oil,
aren't you?"
"The same," he replied.
"Could you tell them to
stop stomping on my bag?"
"I just did."
Right he was. And they had
stopped, though somewhat
rel uctantly. The four were now
standing somewhat despondently in a circle, pushing peb
bles around in the dirt with
the toes of their boots.
I stood. "Now," I continued, "would someone mind
explaining why you bunch just
attacked me and tried to pulverize this?" I picked up my
bag, which was covered in
dirty boot marks but, being
made of ultra-tough Dik
Miller™ MegaSuperMondo-
Cloth®, was not much worse
for wear. GummiBears® continued to dribble out in a slow
stream, however.
"Er," said one, "we thought
you were a logger come to
trash our camp."
I looked down at myself, in
my black cotton-poly pants,
black shoes, black shirt, black
trenchcoat, and my trusty
worn fedora hat, then looked
back up. "Do I look like a logger to you?"
"Well, kind of like the Lone
Logger of the Apocalypse,
actually." He giggled a bit.
That was a new one. "I'm
actually here to join you people, you know."
"We figured that out when
we didn't see any axes or anything in the bag."
One of the others held up
something. "Here," she said. "I
think we bent your satellite
dish."
I took it somewhat brusquely. "Thanks. Now where can I
start?"
"Well," said Garrett, who
was still far too much taller
than me, though we were both
standing, "we need someone to
spell off the tree sitters today."
"Deal," I said.
A little while later I was
deep in the Clayoquot rain
forest, standing at the base of a
huge Douglas fir tree. Way up
in the branches, a couple of
people had set up a camping
platform to discourage loggers
from cutting the thing down.
They were dangling a rope
down for me to be pulled up
into the tree.
"I don't need that!" I shouted. "I have my trusty Dik
Miller™ road flare/tree
climbers handy!"
"It's a lot easier if you just
let us pull you up!" one
replied.
"No thanks! I'd rather do it
this way!" I rummaged in my
bag and produced the road
flare/tree climbers, which
attached to my hands and feet
and enabled me to scale the
giant fir in a Spider Man-like
fashion. I hoisted the bag onto
my back.
"That looks really dangerous!" said one of the tree sitters.
"I know what I'm doing!" I
called back.
I dug the climbers into the
base of the trunk and started
scaling, reaching the platform
in only a few minutes.
"See?" I said, spreading my
arms demonstratively at the
sitters as I arrived. "That
wasn't so bad."
Unfortunately, I was still
attached to the bark, and my
lack of handgrips led to a sudden uncomfortable encounter
with gravity.
When I regained consciousness, I was back on the
ground. My Dik Miller™
suitcase/emergency life
raft/satellite tracking station
had luckily inflated, and I was
still alive, if a bit bruised. It
had, of course, in the process
dumped all of my stuff in a
large, messy circle on the surrounding underbrush.
One of the tree sitters
shouted down, "Let's try that
again!
I looked up. "I meant to do
that!" I said.
Just then, I heard the
unmistakeable sound of
oncoming logging machinery.
Commemorating
Ten Years of
"... when I regained
consciousness...":
Happy Birthday,
Dik!
SCIENCE
UBC
J
First Ycslt
Students' Committee
Nominations are still being accepted.
For nomination forms or more info, please contact
Laurie Yee, Internal Vice President at SUS
(822 4235). Mass Confusion
Leona
ADAMS
My life in the past week
and a half has been what
could be best described as surreal, starting with the dreaded
MCAT (my apologies to the
people to whom I promised
that I wouldn't use the letters
M,C, A, or T for at least two
weeks following the end of a
certain nameless exam). I .
think that the weirdest part of
the whole experience was being
read to. I mean, for the speed
they expect us to be able to
write, you'd think they'd realize
that we could handle reading
"Do not open the exam until
told to do so."
I take that back. The weirdest part was actually being
informed that in spite of the
fact that I had been strictly forbidden to memorize any questions, I would be expected to
write to the MCAT folks when
I got home about any problems.   Go figure.   The questions weren't all that bad,
though. For example:
247. Having read the above
paragraph, state which of the
following is implied, but not
directly:
a) Leona has had a surreal
week.
b) "Nothing is ever eaten as
hot as it is cooked."
c) Leona thought the MCAT
licked the sweat out of a
dead man's navel.
d) all of the above
e) some, but not all of the
above
The correct answer being, of
course, f) none of the above.
The author directly stated that
Leona had a surreal week and a
half, but she did not reveal her
feelings about the exam. It is
possible that b) was implied,
but this is not clear, because
the only person who seems to
be quite sure what it means is
Joseph Pauley (a great philosopher).
Apparently I have ruined the
magic of publishing for some
people with my last article. A
number of people asked when I
was writing my MCAT, then
looked perplexed when I told
them that I had already written
it. As much as I may joke
about our deadlines, I don't
write my articles up the night
before the paper comes out
(usually). Most of the time, I
just write into the future to
make myself seem semi-relevant. I just felt lazy during my
study break and decided that if
I was going to be dazed and
confused, I wanted company.
Speaking of mass confusion,
elections seem to be upon us in
all shapes and sizes. The federal election is shaping up to be
its usual self, the only difference from previous years being
the number of evils from
which we have to choose the
least. On the lighter side of
things, SUS is having year and
departmental rep elections this
week, and I have, for the first
time, decided to run for something. Not wanting to deprive
me of the pleasures of poster
paint, campaigning seems to
have been made mandatory.
This, of course, thrills me to
bits since I had previously
made it a PPP (personal pride
protection) policy to avoid
running for things. Heck, I
don't even run for late classes
(some of you may wonder how
it is that I can be an outgoing
third-year rep and president of
BPP without running for anything; it's called being in the
wrong place at the right time).
It's too late to back out now,
so let me give you my schpiel:
if elected, I promise to do my
best to graduate and get out of
your hair as soon as possible.
How's that? Oh yeah, throw in
some stuff about involvement,
the full university experience,
blah, blah, blah. Having the
full university experience has
occasionally been known to
have adverse effects on people,
and I am one of them. Apparently, I was supposed to submit
a blurb saying why I want to
run for fourth-year rep. Oops.
Well, now you know.
As long as I've established a
theme, may as well end up
with the misunderstandings
between the sexes. One of the
cool things about being in a
department that's 88% male (at
least in our year) is that you get
to hear guys gripe about what
they hate about girls. As much
as I hate to admit it, there are
things that we do agree on, and
I have to agree with most of
these. So, without further ado,
yet another space-filler to make
my article seem longer than it
actually is:
Do you have a sister? and
other no-nos
1. You're a nice guy/girl, but ...
English translation: "You're the
ugliest person I've ever met
and I wouldn't set you up
on a blind date with a dog,
even if it had just bitten
me."
2. We can still be friends.
Okay, I'm going to take some
flack for this one, so let me
qualify. If you genuinely
mean that you still want to
be friends, then more power
to you. However, if you're
saying this to get the person
to leave you alone, then feel
free to tell him/her that you
have every intention of getting a restraining order if
he/she even sets foot within-
a five-mile radius of the
place where your parents
met.
3. We need to talk.
Included with this are perennial favourites like "I need to
work some things out. It
wouldn't be fair to you" and
"The timing is just wrong".
If you don't want this person
calling you up once a week
to see if you've worked
things out yet, then be honest. He/she should recover
within a few years.
4. The effectiveness of a breakup/rejection is inversely proportional to the number of
people involved with it.
Hearing about your breakup from your other's best
friend's sister's babysitter's
hairdresser's cousin should
have gone out with high
school. Skywriters, megaphones, and singing telegrams are definite no-nos.
5. Most importantly, do not
ignore the advice of your
friends. More often than
not, they'll have a significantly more objective view
of your situation and will
not hesitate to tell you that
the person of your dreams is
not the sharpest knife in the
drawer or, more bluntly,
he/she has the IQ of shaved
ice.
Remembering
Brian...
Jane Ramsbotham
Former Underground
columnist who finally
saw the light...
On the 21st, my PoliSci
240 prof showed us an
announcement from page Bl 1
in the Globe and Mail. It was
announcing Mulroney's
appointment to senior partner
of a Montreal law firm.
Something in me snapped.
This guy was the most hated
Prime Minister in Canadian
history. He shouldn't be
allowed to slip into obscurity
this easily.
Some people say history will
remember him in a more
favorable light. I will remember him for the few good
things he left behind. Namely,
jokes at his expense. Here are
just a few:
In a speech to a group of
businessmen Mulroney
announces "When I took
office, this country was teetering on the edge of an abyss.
I'm proud to say that since
then we have taken a valiant
step forward."
Mulroney's office screwed
up and made appointments
with the Pope and George
Bush at the same time. When
Mulroney's secretary asked
who to send in first he replied
"The Pope, I only have to kiss
his ring!"
A doctor, engineer and Mulroney were arguing about
whose profession came first.
The doctor said that Eve was
created from one of Adam's
ribs, so doctors came first. The
engineer said that creating the
world from chaos was an engineering feat. "Maybe so," said
Mulroney, "but who do you
think created the chaos?"
Mulroney, Bush, and Mitterrand were on a train in
Europe when it suddenly
stopped. First, Mitterrand
went and tried to reason with
the engineer. When that failed,
Bush sent a CIA agent to assassinate the engineer and replace
him with an American. When
that didn't work Mulroney said
"Leave it to me." He closed the
blind and said, "Look, we're
moving!"
(ed. Here's a not entirely
unrelated joke... Etymology of
the word politics: "poli" comes
from the Greek for "many",
and "tics" from the Latin for
"annoying little bloodsucking
pests.")
Impress friends.
Win enemies.
Repel marauding saucer aliens.
Next 432 deadline:
12 October.
SUS Year & Department Rep Elections
Poll Clerks Needed
One-hour shifts are available between 11:30 and
2:30 on 6-8 October. The wage is $6 per hour.
Applications available in SUS.
Applications to be handed in to Laurie Yee, Elections
Commissioner, by 30 September in CHEM 160.
For more information, please call Sarah Thornton or
Laurie Yee at 822 4235. The Drawers of SUS
Sarahs Skivvies
Sarah Thornton
O
K. What's up?
The year is going incredibly
fast. It's already October! But
things are going well in SUS.
The office is always busy,
and more people have realized
where the cheap coffee supply
is. Council is getting organized
and events are flying. We've
got good relations with the
EUS and AUS this year —
hopefully, our External VP will
keep us informed of what
everyone's up to!
In the outside world, SUS
has made some new contacts.
The Institute of Science, Engineering, and Public Policy
from the States is running a
lecture series in the Orpheum
this year. On September 26,
Jean-Michel Cousteau gave a
lecture, to which up to 400
Science students went. The
ISEPP gave SUS tickets to give
away in a promotional deal, so
we did. And the lecture was
quite good. Unfortunately, I
don't think we'll be getting
tickets to any of the other lectures.
And in (somewhat) related
community news, the Vancouver Recital Society recently
phoned me to announce their
new "Student Rush Tickets".
The concerts are Sunday
nights at the Playhouse, and
rush tickets are $10.75. The
next concert is Oct. 17 with
violinist Maxim Vengerov. For
info, phone 736-6034, or
come see me in SUS.
In the charity world, the
Student Branch of the United
Way campaign (Steve's note:
Joy!) is well underway again.
SUS members will be selling
buttons, so support this good
cause if you can.
And this week we've got
elections — the positions of
Public Relations Officer and
First Year Reps are up for
grabs. Please come out and
vote: make your voice count!
Now on to something close
to my heart — Science Week.
Yes, that's right, Science has an
entire week dedicated to us. It's
the third week of January, and
this year's is going to be even
bigger and better than last
year's. Steve Coleman is organizing it, and needs your help.
Soooo, any ideas for guest
speakers, special events, or
sponsorship... let us know.
Soon, Steve will be organizing
a meeting for all those interested in helping, so come in and
leave a message for Steve or
me.
 Treasurer s Trunks
Jason S Holmes
Hey, guess what? We have
no money! Ain't that a hoot?
Well, this isn't exactly true, as
we are in what is termed an
"operating deficit". Ooo,
sounds awfully political,
doesn't it? Considering that
both the United States and
Canada have existed in an
operating deficit for donkey's
years now, you should know
that "operating deficit" is
actually poli-speak for "Hell,
we don't have the money to
spend but let's spend it anyways." However, SUS has
been given permission to be in
an "operating deficit" by the
almighty coin-gods of the
AMS, namely Dean "What
Are You Doing??" Leung and
Mayleen "I Can't Authorize
That, Go Talk To Dean"
Ahoy. I won't go into details
about why we are in debt, but
I can tell you that we won't be
as soon as the bloody Financial Department of UBC
decides to transfer the student
fees it has collected to the
AMS which then transfers
them to us. Until this happens, I am just a little bit
stressed (ask my co-workers)
and will be accepting donations of either cash or Rolaids.
As a result of SUS being in
this perpetual state of debt-
by-consent, the AMS has
decided to perform an audit
on our past and present
finances. Ordinarily, this is a
very painful procedure where
the governing body delves
into the dark past of a person's
or organization's past and
accuses the current treasurer,
of absconding with 95tf to
buy a chocolate bar at 4am in
the morning. Well, this isn't
going to happen. At least I
hope not. I reeeeally hope no-
one has been buying chocolate
bars with SUS funds. If it's
true, I swear it wasn't me: I
hate chocolate. Really.
Apparently the audit was
announced with the following
comment by Mayleen Ahoy:
"It's a really beautiful budget,
I must say." Well, thank-you
for auditing anyways. (If the
AUS desires, I can produce an
equally beautiful budget for
i:he low, low cost of $4 324.32
Including GST). However, I
have been informed by the
highest authority (i.e. the
chair of the AMS Budget
<Committee) that we will have
no problem.
Well, that's all for now. I'll
let you know what happens
when the AMS puts SUS to
the rack, uh Audit Sub-committee. Time for my Pepto-
Bismol!
Open Mouth, Insert Boot
trie only thre
You're about to read fervent testimonials from the only three
participants in this week's year & department rep elections
who cared enough to submit something. Here they are, unedited! and unplugged:
Jess e Burnett—1st Year Rep
A lot of you are probably wondering who Jesse Burnett is, and
why she's running for First Year
Rep. Or maybe you don't care,
but I do. I'm that energetic girl
you might have seen down in the
SUS office, or maybe you saw me
helping out at the SUS barbecue
held that first week of school.
There's also a good chance that
I've happily introduced myself to
you in class or at the SUB. No,
I'm not already a. member of the
SUS Council, but I am enthusiastic and I want to give the First
Year Science students a voice that
will be heard on Council. If you
haven't met me already, come
down to the SUS between 12:30-
l:30Mon.-Thurs. and find out
what I'm about. You can now go
back to your class for naptime, I'll
be seein' ya. And to all of those
frosh who' ve just skipped this
section of The 432,1 must admit
thai: Campus Wars is a more
entertaining article, but please
turn out and vote anyways.
hmy Siegentlialer—Psychology Rep
Well gosh, here I am at 2 am
Sunday night trying inexorably to
write a blurb to publicize my
position as Psychology rep for this
year. In the grand tradition of
SUS blurb writers, I've left it to
the last minute and should be
doing a whole whack of other
stuff, but hey, if you're not
behind, how will you ever experience the joys of 4:am cram sessions and caffeine-wired nervous
systems? Have you ever noticed
how you're never really ahead,
only in varying stages of behind-
ness? If not, you're either:
a) a SuperKeener
b) an Artsie
c) looking forward to a
'Dean's Vacation' next year
This is my second year at UBC
but my third year of post-secondary enlightenment. I still
haven't figured out how I got
tallied into this by that dammed
Geophysics/Astronomy Rep but
here I am. Drop by CHEM 160
and say "hello" (to whoever's
there —it probably won't be me
but someone with no class will be
Ballot Boxers
Laurie Yee
Here I am again, telling
you that you should get
involved with SUS. For
those of you who actually
came out and put in a nomination form, congratulations!
Elections are October 6-8,
(that's this Wednesday to Friday) from 11:30 to 2:30. I
hope that you're all eagerly
looking for those polling
booths out there. If you're
really, really keen on knowing
where they are come out an
be a poll clerk (you get paid
to sit and ... whatever it is
you do when you're not
doing anything).
The elections are going to
be for the positions of Public
Relations Officer and First
Year Rep.
The candidates for PRO
(an executive position) are:
Keith Banerjee.
Farheen Rawji.
Those running for First
Year Rep are:
Jesse Burnett,
Anna-Bella Carvalho,
Dianna Kyles,
Shaleena Meghji,
Tessa Moon.
Before you go out and vote
for the First Year positions
make sure that you have your
library card and that you are
in first year Science.
With all that aside now,
I'm still looking for people to
get involved in council from
4th year, 3rd year, Biochemistry, Chemistry, Computer
Science, Geography, Geology
and Math. So if you've been
dragging your feet about
coming out to get involved,
get your butt in gear and tell
me that you're out there,
ready to go.
there.) Well, that's my blurb—
good night and God bless.
Kevin Douglas—Geophhysics
/ Astronomy Rep
Since my major is in Combined Geophysics and Astronomy, I figure I'm pretty qualified
for this position. I'm looking forward to getting involved with
SUS again. I was the Physics Rep
last year, but like a few of my
comrades, I decided to abandon
ship and find solace in a smaller,
cozier department. I like donuts a
lot, so if you ever drop by Chem
160 on a Monday morning,
around 10:30, I'd appreciate it if
you brought me one of those
sugar-frosted goodies.
Thank you all so very much.
AMS Briefs
Steve Coleman
Hey. Come here for a sec.
Interested in buying a
United Way button? Get back
here. It's for charity, you don't
have to actually wear it unless
you want to avoid being
accosted by me and all the
other sellers. Of course, this
could be a good thing if she's
wearing a black dress—until
you realize all she wants is your
money. $2... charity... yes,
you can afford it. No, they are
not the same buttons as last
year. Get them in SUS or
wherever black dresses can be
found.
There's an opening for the
AMS Tutoring service assistant
coordinator that you can't
apply for, because the date
passed last Friday. Also past is
the application date for new
SACees. But if you want, you
can still apply for a Senator-at-
Large position. You must be a
full time student to be eligible.
Apply by October 8.
More dates that will have
passed by the time this article
gets published include the
Great Trekker Awards Ceremony, this year commemorating Byron Hender, who, as
AMS Prez in the sixties, was
instrumental in negotiating the
current SUB lease that the
AMS is grinning about. Now,
of course, he's dealing with it
with the current AMS exec
from the University's perspective. Hah! Way ta rub it in,
AMS!
Included with the celebrations is Homecoming on
October 2. Crowds of 200 000
people are expected by the
AMS. I expect crowds of 200.
This is because the SUS Oktoberfest Dance was/will be such
a success that very few Science
students will be able to make it
the next day. Horrible scheduling on the part of the University. ..
Social Diseases
Matt Brzzr
Mmmmrumplesteelskin-
wuzawesomemmmnodonwan-
nagotoschoolwannasleepzzzzz. The Father, The Son, and the Goalie Host
According to AMS President
Bill "Bill" Dobie, my face
was really something to see when
I found out God was coming to
the UBC Bookstore. You know,
that eyes-as-big-as-dinner-plates-
and-mouth-forming-the-perfect-
O-of-surprise look that one gets
when one finds out such news.
Kinda like Don Knotts on Threes
Company when the cheesy dramatic irony that had been propelling the whole plot finally hits
him at about 24 minutes after,
but not quite as disproportionate,
and besides, he always looks like
that.
Anyhoo, perhaps I should elaborate a tad on "God" before the
pitchfork-and-torch-wielding
mobs show up demanding the
head of the vile blasphemer (guess
who) on a large pointy sack. I
mean God from the point of view
of a six-year-old (which, some
would argue, suits my general
outlook on life rather well).
When I was six years old, there
was one man - and one man only -
that I wanted to be. And that
man was Ken Dryden. Eight seasons with the Montreal Canadi-
ens, six Stanley Cups, winner of
the Conn Smythe Trophy as a
rookie, and the best damn thing
the NHL has ever seen between
two goalposts, bar none (and that
goes for Fuhr as well; I don't care
what anyone says). Tito was God.
His Royal Kenness.
Regretfully, I never had the
chance to watch Him play live,
but if anyone who knew me was
ever looking for me on Saturday
at 5 pm, they knew without fail
to look in front of my TV first. If
I wasn't there, chances are I was:
a) in front of some other TV,
b) dragged away kicking and
screaming by someone with
several wild horses and a three-
ton winch at his immediate
disposal, or
c) playing hockey. (I wasn't a total
couch potato at six. The roots
didn't really start to take hold
'til I was about nine.)
But I digress. The take home
message here is that Ken Dryden
was the be-all and end-all of
human existence, and there was
very little that I would not have
done for the sheer honor and
glory of touching one of his sweat
socks to my face after practice, let
alone getting a crack at his job.
But, as one grows up, one
tends to move on to other things
(like first dates involving a Chuck
Norris flick and a Dairy Queen),
and after a while, the thought of
having an NHL career faded into
obscurity, but I never forgot Ken.
He was, and remains, my hero.
Thus, one begins to get a grip
on what I was looking like when,
during an idle conversation with
the director of the UBC Bookstore, she mentioned that The -
Man Himself was going to grace
us with his presence. Bill immediately said, "Oh, you reeeally
shouldn't have told him that,"
and quickly reached up and
grabbed me by the ankles before I
caught an updraft and floated out
over Georgia Straight.
Now normally, in the interests
of flexibility and my already fragile state of mental well-being, I try
not to schedule too far ahead of
time (twenty minutes or so seems
to work as a good limit). Well,
not only was the date and time of
#29's appearance in my Day-
Timer, on my door and branded
to the back of my writing hand a
full month ahead of time, but I
think I told enough people about
it that the Mayor of Katmandu
could have called me up and said
to say hi without inducing any
major surprise / shock / crank call
suspicion on my part.
So there I am, sitting in the
Bookstore on the big day with a
steadliy growing mob of people.
Technically, he was there to sign
copies of his new-book, but there
was no mistaking what everyone
was really there to see. "Oh, yeah,
book, right... WHOOA, mint
rookie card! Give ya 200 bucks for
it..."
Me, I had a simple request:
sign my catcher. Put your name
to my catching glove and turn it
into an unbeatable Supreme Puck
Magnet that would put a black
hole to shame. That's all. Nothing fancy. Of course, I'd have
brought all of my equipment (and
most of my material possessions
and a tattoo needle for my arm) if
I hadn't had to head to a meeting
direcdy afterwards.
Suddenly, there he was. No
fanfare, no celestial bells ringing
in the heavens... just a guy in a
suit. So I summoned up a good
dose of courage, swallowed the
golf ball in my throat and walked
toward him. I thought about
what I was going to say... "Mr.
Dryden, I just want to say two
things. One, you were right in
your book... there is such a thing
as a goalie's mentality, and two,
thanks for being that guy up on
my wall that I dreamed of being.
Thanks for being the best. You
may strike me down with a bolt
of lighning now if you wish; my
life is complete. Thank you."
Now, I used to laugh at all
those devout Catholics you hear
about that go absolutley bananas
when meeting the Pope, and
wonder how in the hell one could
completely lose it just meeting
someone, /met the Pope, and I
managed to keep it together, so I
knew it wasn't some kind of
weird Meet-The-Pope Insanity
Force Field that he was using on
these people. I just couldn't fathom it.
Well, no more. I understand
completely now.
You see, he turned and smiled,
and there we were. I was face to
face with God. And something
happened. I opened my mouth
and heard myself say something
like:
"Nngguuuuuhhh..."
I couldn't believe it. My first
word to the man sounded more
like he'd punched me in the gut
than anything else. But it was out
of my hands. The ol' brain had
suddenly decided to let go of the
wheel, sit back and take notes.
After what seemed like a very
long time, I managed to ask him
to sign my catcher, God knows
how. He took the thing in his
hands, looked at it, looked at me,
and simply said, "Jeez, these
things have changed, huh? Looks
more like a blocker than a catch-
er.
That brought me back to
earth, although I have no idea
why; perhaps it was just the sheer
inability of my brain to cope with
the idea that the greatest man ever
to play the position was suddenly
talking shop with me. It was just
one goalie to another, nothing
more.
He signed the glove, with the
autograph that I had memorized
very early on in life, handed the
glove back and smiled. I shook his
hand and started to say what I
had been planning to tell him,
but then I looked at him, and all I
said was "Thank you , Mr. Dryden, for everything." He nodded,
warmly shook my hand and said,
"Good luck to you," before turning to another fan.
And that was that. I had met
God, and the best thing about the
whole experience was that I realized that he was just a man, like
you or me. He wasn't a deity, and
he had no special powers or
magic; he was a human being
after all. Gives one hope for oneself.
Well, okay, it was the second
best thing. Turns out someone
had brought along their tattoo
needle, and, well, for ten bucks,
you just don't pass up opportunities like that.
Classic MENSA/DENSA Conundrums
MENSA is an international
organization for the super-
intelligent that, well, upholds the
rights of geniuses good and evil, I      3},
guess. DENSA is its sister organization that caters to the other end
of the scale. (I am not making this
up. DENSA does exist.) So, we
decided to present, for your in-
class entertainment, these classic
brain-teasers in both their incarnations.
2a.    What are the next 3 letters
in the series OTTFF-
SSEN...?
2b.    What are the next 3 letters
in the series AAAAAAAA...?
3a.    You have two pencils, a
good one and a cheap one.
The good one costs a dollar
more than the cheap one,
4a.
la.    Under international law, if
a plane crashes in the middle of the Adantic, where
would the survivors be
buried? 4^
lb.    Under international law, if
a plane crashes in the middle of the Andes, what sauce
should be used with the sur-
5a.
5b.
and together they cost
$1.10. How much does the
cheap one cost?
You have two pencils, a
good one and a cheap one.
One costs a dollar more
than the cheap one. Did
you really just spend more
than a dollar on a pencil?
A child is injured and
rushed to the hospital. The
doctor takes one look at the
child and says "I can't treat
him. He's my son." The
doctor is not the child's
father. How do you explain
this?
A child receives a head
injury. His voice is slurred
and he has reduced sensation on one side. There is
judgment difficulty, possibly he cannot remember his
address. What is wrong?
I have two coins which add
up to 30<f. One of them is
not a nickel. What are the
coins?
I have two coins which add
up to 2<t. One of them is a
penny. The other is also a
penny. Uh...what was the
question?
6a.     In a strange town, there are
only two barbers. Looking
into the barber shops, you
see that one barber is messy
and disorganized, and has a
terrible haircut. The other
barber is neat and has a
beautiful haircut. Which
one do you pick to cut your
hair, and why?
6b.    In a strange town, there are
only two barbers. Looking
into the barber shops, you
see that one barber is neat
and has a lot of bandages on
his face. The other is messy
and has a habit of waving
his arms about violently
with the straight razor, or
any sharp object, and is
frothing at the mouth, but
has a really super haircut.
Which one do you turn and
bolt from as fast as your legs
can carry you?
7a.    If a teenager and a half can
eat a pizza and a half in a
day and a half, how many
pizzas can a dozen teenagers
eat in three days?
7b.    What do you want on your
pizza?
8a.    If there are twelve one-cent
stamps in a dozen, how
many two-cent stamps are
there in a dozen?
8b.    If the price of ammo goes
up $12 a case, how much
does the price of a stamp
rise?
9a.    How many months have 28
days?
9b.    How many months have 2
female menstrual cycles?
You don't know?
10a.  Complete the next two
numbers: 16 2 7 3 8??
10b. Complete the next two
numbers: "Number
nine...number nine... number nine... number
nine...number nine..."
Solutions:
la.    You don't bury survivors.
1 b.    Well, duh! You don't eat
survivors. You only eat
casualties.
2a.    TET
2b.    RGH
3a.    A nickel.
3b.    Yes, you did just spend
more than a dollar on a
pencil.
4a.    The doctor is his mother.
4b.    Clearly a subdural
hematoma.
5 a.    The other one is a nickel.
The one that isn't a nickel is
a quarter.
5b.    Uh...what was the answer?
6a.    The one with the messy
haircut, since the other barber cut his.
6b.    Forget it. Your hair will be
fine for one more day.
7a.    24.
7b.    Wrong! Artichoke hearts
suck.
8a.     12.
8b.    Depends on whether you're
talking 12-gauge or automatic.
9a.    All of them.
9b.    As many as she wants.
Maybe all of them.
Maaaaybe none of them.
Guess we'll just never really
know.
10a. 4,9.
10b. "You become naked"

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