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The 432 Feb 28, 1996

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Array VOL 9 • NO 10
28 FEBRUARY 1996
1SIDP Approves
'geei* Relocation!
Engineers to be reintroduced to the Montana wild
in an effort to supplement the flagging local
redneck population.
Earl Warren
QUOTE OF THE WEEK
News is anything that someone, somewhere wants to
suppress. Everything else is
advertising.
- unknown
UPCOMING
SUS Elections
March 4-6, 1996
Polls in most Science
Buildings
INGREDIENTS
Scandals, scandals, scandals!
Cartoons by Doug.
Sucks for Votes™
Easy ways to deface legal
tender.
And a wasted week.
Plus much more!
Roving Correspondent
In a surprise press conference,
The NDP Minister of the
Environment today introduced
legislation which will allow the
controversial Engineer re-location
program to begin on the UBC campus and in the surrounding areas.
Designed to reduce the ever-growing population of engineers on
campus, the new legislation will
allow ministry officials to tranquil-
ize, capture, and relocate engineers
to areas where they are perceived as
'less of an environmental threat'.
The passing of this bill is largely
due to lobbying from local fast-
food industry executives, who are
concerned with the recent decline
in the UBC Arts student population. This decline, they explain, is
directly related to the increase in
the number of engineers on campus. Bob Peterson, the regional
vice-president of McDonald's
Canada explains:
"Our business here on the campus
relies heavily on the artsie... er...
Arts student population. However,
in the short time we've been here,
we've seen a large decrease in the
available population. Our human
resources department has been
working overtime getting employees from other sources, but in the
end, it just wasn't economically
viable. We felt that our only option
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was to reduce the predator population."
Although the complete details of
the operation have not been
released, ministry officials are confident that the operation will go
smoothly. When asked whether the
ministry employees who capture
the Engineers will be in any danger,
Environment Minister Moe Sihota
replied:
"The Engineers are very similar to
wolves, in that they follow a pack-
based social structure. There are
several packs on campus, each led
by a dominant male, or in some
cases, a female. The rest of the
'geers in the packs are subservient
— they follow the orders of the
pack leader. Our trappers 'will first
separate the individual 'geers from
the rest of the pack using some sort
of bait — usually a six-pack of beer.
Once separated from the pack, the
Engineers pose no threat whatsoever, and will be easily tranquilized."
Captured Engineers will be airlifted to areas where there is a smaller
population density. Proposed sites
include the nearby SFU, UNBC, as
well as several universities in northern Montana. Once they arrive in
the re-location sites, they will be
tagged and released, and their
progress will be monitored by local
officials.
The new re-location program has
been well received by the residents
of the areas surrounding campus.
Local resident Cleetus Hanson is
pleased with the legislation:
"I'm damn tired of those 'geers
roaming 'round the neighbourhood, howlin', and gettin' into my
garbage. I can't even let my young
uns play outside unattended — just
last week I caught one of dem
varmints offerin'my 6 year old a
beer. And one of my neighbours
down the street left his dog tied out
in back — I don't even wanna get
into that..."
Prominent environmentalist Jane
Forsyth, on the other hand, is outraged, claiming that the program
upsets the natural balance between
the Arts students and Engineers:
"Without the Engineers to keep
the Arts population in check, the
number of Artsies on campus will
skyrocket. What we're seeing right
now is a natural fluctuation in population levels — it's nothing to get
upset about. The 'geers serve an
important purpose — they prey on
the lazy, weak, and just plain stupid members of the Arts population. Without them, we'd have an
entire faculty of lazier, stupider students..^... not that we're lazy or
stupid now, it's just that...um
...yeah. It's bad."
Reform Party critics were quick to
oppose the bill, pointing back to
the failed Forester hunt of '87 and
the disastrous Science re-location
effort in the early 70's.
Illegal
Investing!
Earl Warren and Gord McVanOlundsky
Financially challenged correspondents
The real reason IUPAC naming conventions were adopted.
Under the auspices of the
Freedom of Information Act,
it has been discovered that
employees of the AMS have been
participating in a secret offshore
investment program guaranteed to
yield a 5000% return on initial
investment capital.
With a minimum $200 per
investor going to the Laotian
Student Defense Fund, a $ 100,000
return is guaranteed once the
Laotian students overthrow their
government and invite large multi-
national corporations to establish
factories to exploit their citizens.
Coca-Cola is reported to be contributing heavily to the L.S.D.
Fund.
When confronted about the failure
to offer this choice investment to
all students, Jacob Reeves, chair of
the AMS Illegal Investing
Committee replied,
"There's absolutely nothing illegal
about this! I mean, yes, the committee's name might lead you to
doubt me, but hey, are the
Democrats really democratic?"
Newly elected AMS President
angrily denied any knowledge of
the off-shore investors plan, despite
being Coordinator of External
Affairs the year before. Borins,
attempting to look more decisive
than his predecessor, took immediate action and fired the chair of the
committee. Further firings may be
forthcoming. PAGES
H
E
"_■■      3       2
Feb 28,1996
Spiralling
wildly out of
eoittrol.
Blair
MCDONALD
Ever feel like you're a twin
engine light commuter
plane, with one engine fallen off? Shoddy maintenance by
unionized mechanics, no doubt.
But you're ok, since you can just
make it to the landing field on
your remaining engine. At least,
you thoughtyou could, until you
glanced at the fuel gauge and
noticed the little red bar quivering at the "E".
That's how I've been feeling lately - no control over any aspect of
my life. A great deal of this is
probably due to the fact that I'm
completing my fourth year, but
it's not my last. I've still got one
more, or at least part of one
more.
But I've discovered an innate
streak of conservatism in me. It's
like I've got three little voices
speaking to me: the little angel,
the little devil and a little bastard
that sits on my shoulder asking
"What if something goes wrong?"
I've learned to Ignore both the
devil and the angel, but the bastard's voice is just too persistent.
The little bastard makes me feel
uncomfortable not knowing what
I'll be doing a year from now. You
see, last year, I had a very dear
idea what I was going to do: edit
this paper, hang out at SUS, do
Orientations and generally do a
repeat of the year before.
But I'm not going to be editing
this paper much longer, I'm not
reapplying for my old
Orientation job, and by this time
next year I'll be fighting to get
into a grad school or looking for
gainful employment.
There's a million things that
could go wrong. I could fail
enough courses to force a sixth
year, and in doing so, write off
any hope of getting into a quality
grad school. I'll end up pursuing
my Master's at Bob's House of
Tools, that quality post-secondary
institution.
I suppose a great deal of the
problem lies in the fact that I've
been defining myself by the positions I hold. I should be comfortable in the person I am, not the
work I do, but I can't seem to
break away from this vicious spiral. I only hope I can break out of
it before the altimeter spins to
000000.
People tell me it's unreasonable
to expect to know where and
what I'll be a year from now. Fair
enough. But I certainly can try to
predict the future.
Maybe the best thing to do is to
put all my possible career choices
in a hat, and pick one out at random.
1. Be a construction worker.
I'll work on my beer belly, and
buy my jeans three sizes too small
to develop that all essential butt
crack. I'll grow a really ugly beard
and worship Bob Vila.
And I'll talk about studs all day
long.
2. Grad school, famous scientist,
■blah, blah, blah.
3. Columnist for the Vancouver Sun
You think my columns make little or no sense - try reading any
of the "human interest" crap generated by the Sun. Talk about
soapboxes.
4. Assassinate Steven Paige and
take his place as lead singer of the
Barenaked Ladies.
I'm pissed off at these guys as it
is. Last August, they stood up on
the stage and promised a new
album by early fall. But the only
thing released is the name of the
new LP. No release date as of yet.
Besides, I've always wanted to be
a Canadian pop icon. I think people might notice if I knocked off
Bryan Adams. But I can sing
along to all the Barenaked songs,
whereas I couldn't hum a Bryan
Adams tune to save my life.
I'm not going to let my complete
lack of musical ability stand in
the way of my dreams.
Nor this little bastard sitting on
my shoulder.
SCIENCE SALES
Wool baseball cap
$ 12
Three different styles
to choose from
Barbarian rugby shirts
Blue and white with science logo
Science polar fleece
Science Week t-shirts
... $40
..,$67
...$T0
"My name is Bond. Ionic Bond."
Volume 9 Number 10
28 Feb 1996
Somewhat Benevolent Dictator     Terrprized Citizens
Blair McDonald (blairmcd@iuiixg)
Secret Police
Jay Garcia
John Hallett
Matt Wiggta (absent, he dies)
Chief Ink Monkey &
Paid Informant '
Hiro "Will someone please tank
me?" Izuml .
Doug Beleznay, Anna Carvalho,
Bella Carvalho, Fahreen Dossa,
Nicola Jones, Tracy MacKinnon,
Frenchy Mattel, Derek K. Miller,
and Jeremy Thorp
Our manifesto	
The 432 is registered to the
Science UndergradSociety.
Electronic versions of this paper
are available at http://www.
xrrrission.com/~seer/STJS/432
For a copy of our picks for the
Republican Presidential
Nomination, next Premier of
BC, largest land mammal, most
obscure hair style or # of times
John's been photographed
naked, call us at 822-4235.
Enemies of the state will be
purged with the ruthlessness of
Stalin. Feb 28,1996
H
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4
2
PAGE 3
Bresuhnaker.
Breadmakers are neat. You
put in some flour, yeast, a
couple eggs and some milk,
press some buttons, and close the
lid. It makes some hummy and
some beepy sounds, and four
hours later, you have a loaf of
bread. Yeah, great, you say. So
what. What the heck are you
going to do with an /entire/ loaf
• of bread? Can you make Kraft
Dinner with it? No. Can it do
your homework? Of course not.
i Can it answer your phone, make
; your bed and paint valuable
. Impressionist-style oil paintings?
Well, maybe, but that's not going
to do you a whole heckuva lot of
?good.
Why, you ask, am I talking
about something as fundamentally yuppy as a breadmaker? No,
I'm not drunk. But, drinking is
somewhat relevant (isn't it
/always?) You see, I was in the
midst of one of life's worst crises.
VI was completely, utterly, and
most offensively out of beer. I
•checked in the fridge, under the
Scouch, and behind the
microwave for beer. I searched
my=bedA theiQilet..tank and the
showerhead for beer. I scoured
the bookshelf, the garbage can,
and even the breadmaker, looking for beer. Stop right there. Yes,
there was no beer in the bread-
maker. But, there was yeast in it.
And, there's yeast in beer. So, I
looked in the cupboards for beer.
I looked in the drawers and on
the shelves for beer. I was
halfway through my collection of
empties, draining the dregs into
an almost clean yoghurt container, when my brain finally made
the connection. Yeast in beer.
Yeast in breadmaker. Beer in
breadmaker.
fl went back to the cupboard,
searching for beer-making supplies. I had yeast. I had water. No
barley though, and I was pretty
sure that none of the green
things in my fridge were hop
plants. This was a problem. The
door-to-door hops salesman had
just been by yesterday, and as
hard as I tried, I couldn't convince the friendly folks at Varsity
Grill to deliver me any barley at
all. The Shampoo Pork, however,
was quite good, and right before
the MSG-induced hallucinations
began, I had an idea.
The next day, I found myself
perusing radio-shack for the necessary modifications. A small
length of hose, some copper wire,
a couple of AA batteries, and a
roll of duct tape later, I was on
my way. After stopping into a
local produce store for the
required hops and barley, I was
on my way home.
Several hours and several nonexistent beers later, I was almost
ready. Connecting the 'necessary
modifications' to the air vents of
the breadmaker using some wood
glue and the outer ring of a two
dollar coin, I was ready to add
the ingredients.
Deciding to skip the necessary
malting and fermenting stages in
favour of the who-gives-a-&*%$-
just-go-for-it mentality, I added
what looked like appropriate
amounts of each of the ingredients into.the top^f the machine,
closed the lid, and pressed the little red button labeled 'start.'
Burp. Gurgle. Fizz. Churn.
Repeat.
My long wait was over. Inside
the strange-smelling contraption
that was once a breadmaker, now
hopefully resided a large quantity
of somewhat warm liquid, which
would hopefully be somewhat
like something which may have
once resembled beer.
And it was. Or at least, it looked
like it. And smelled like it.
But, the question was — did it
taste like beer? This, it would
seem, would be the deciding factor — beer, or not beer; fun or no
fun; good or not good. I was in a
cold sweat, my hands were trem
bling, and I was just plain scared.
Nevertheless, I was determined to
find out if my plans had succeeded. Raising a newly-filled glass to
my trembling lips, I prayed, and
drank.
Was the liquid in my pseudo-
breadmaker beer? Was it good?
To tell you the truth, I don't
remember, and I don't think I
ever will. My bread/beermaker is
so gummed up, it won't even
make toast. I have a few bruised
on my legs, and hazy memories
of steam tunnels and karaoke.
I've seen Indiana Jones, and I
know when to leave things alone
— Pandora's box, Jer's
Breadmaker... just be careful.
Who knows the evils unleashed
when mortals take the making of
beer into their own hands. For
now, I'll just use the Liquor Store.
roF etutitsnl
aixelsiD fO smotciV
.ydutS
roF sreetnuloV
gn
ikeeS
si
dere
ffO airaruonoH
6666-765
suo
reneG
The -fuuture of Journalism
The 432, issue 11
Wednesday, IHarch 13
Deadline is Wednesday, fllarch 6
This is a patented Blair McDonald...
Waste of Space
TM
We don't believe in big-ass font pages.
Four easy ways to break the
new $2> coin.
I
Jl     a»_y Wb^fs
k-o
AShaolinmonk.
liquid nitrogen.
dynamite...
or a one meter drop. PAGE 4
H
E
4
3
2
Feb 28,1996
Lacking Tau
lines.
The S year
reunion.
Anyone who does a lot of
writing can't be that good
at keeping secrets.
Anything that splats itself down
on the paper, be it true or imagined, is bound to well up a flood
of the author's personality, ink
splashing out the little details of
their life. And if you're going to
bare your soul to a group of completely anonymous strangers,
close friends are bound to have
been exposed to a lot more. The
emotional playground of my
heart has a sign reading "clothing optional beyond this point" -
welcome to Wreck.
The only "problem" with this
way of life is the amount of visitors I get roaming around my
playground bundled up in
enough protective outerwear to
withstand a cold spell in Atlantis.
I'm sitting around naked as a
cracked snail and at the other end
of the teeter-totter friend A's inadvertently shown up in a parka
and doesn't quite know how to
teeter. I push up, let loose a
secret, fly high into the air, and
the next thing I know I'm sailing
back towards the sand pit at a
rather uncomfortable pace.
Usually there's another push on
his behalf, but it comes with a
three second delay that puts me
off-balance and leaves me feeling
none too safe at the end of my
totter. At times I've actually gotten off and wandered over to the
swings before he realizes it's his
turn, and so he ends up hopping
uselessly at the other end of the
park.
There are just some things about
friend A's life that are beyond my
grasp of comprehension - often
because he forgot to tell me about
them until weeks after the pivotal
point. And it's not deliberate.
The secrets are inadvertent. But
It's weird having friends that
come with so many built-in layers. By the time the parka comes
off and you think things are set,
you realize there's a wet suit and
six shirts yet to get through.
By the time anything exciting
happens in my own little world,
there are at least 3 people who
knew about it yesterday, and
countless others who are privileged enough to find out about it
3 seconds after the fact. At times
I fear that I'm so horrid at the art
Of conversation that I'm forced to
simply narrate everything that
happens in my life - often twice.
And I just can't keep anything as
a surprise. I'm sure everyone  .
(including you now) knows I'm
on my way to Mexico, and have
probably heard all the details six
times over.
But at times I grow jealous of
friends who seem to have their
own little worlds off behind the
monkey bars - secret club houses I
didn't even know existed and certainly aren't allowed to visit. So
over by the swings I tugged a
sweatshirt over my head and
pulled on the boxers.:. I got my
hair chopped without telling a
soul - that knocked friend A right
off his see-saw - and I've been
learning to keep a few secrets.
Just to try it out, see how the
clothes fit.
On the other hand, it's soon to
be spring, and who wants to be
hanging around in sweats?
Friends B and C are over in the
sand pit in their undies, so maybe
things aren't so seaetive around
here after all. I'll get back to you
after the Mexico trip, and we'll
see if I have any tan lines.
*'"*'' '&KCIA*
When I was younger and
more idealistic and
nearing the end of my
four years at Eric Hamber secondary, I found myself looking
forward to the time when I would
finally be free of the confines of
high school. I savoured the
thought of escape from the shackles of four years of pop quizzes,
surprise dissections, and the sheer
fatiguing boredom of having to
run ten laps around the school in
the freezing rain, while your best
friend, who's wheezing along
with you, keeps muttering "Some
weather we're having, eh?"
I figured that university would
be a massive change from the
never-ending drabness of high
school. I really thought that
being able to choose your courses
and plan your own schedule was
cool beyond belief. I was looking
forward to the four month summers, and, by inference, the
shorter school year. In short, I
was looking forward to experiencing the most enjoyable years of
my academic life.
Boy, was I ever misguided.
It's been one year, five months,
When picking a computer
information service,
CompuServe urges you to
choose wisely.
CompuServe is the most politically correct
server on the Internet Because a German
judge ordered pornographic material out
of his jurisdiction, CompuServe has taken
the initiative to ban all newsgroups
containing the word "sex", or containing
any reference to male or female parts.
This ban includes medical newsgroups:
after all, you never know who's reading
them.
Similarly, aTadzhik wise man once said
that the forth is flat. Therefore,to protect
the freedom of thought of all our
customers, all newsgroups pertaining to
scientific discoveries and technological
advances having occurred after 432 A.D.
are banned.
However, newsgroups concerning disco
on 8 track are allowed.
CompuServe3
Dedicated to providing the most
open minded and non-offensive
computer information service in
the world.
three weeks, two days and eleven-
odd hours since I graduated from
high school. In that period, I
have spent many a night guzzling
coffee and sweating caffeine out
through my pores, cramming for
exams that fell first thing in the
morning. I have cursed most
vociferously and with remarkably
creative invective each and every
time my hard drive has crashed,
taking with it weeks of notes,
copious original and revised outlines, complete bibliographies,
and, on occasion, entire essays. I
have fallen asleep in almost every
class in almost every time period
imaginable, from the eight a.m.
Physics class to the ten p.m.
night Math section, and in the
process, managed to delight my
professors with my vast repertoire
of snores and sleep techniques.
Outside of class, I have been
chased by big, burly Engineers,
screaming for my blood at the"
top of their lungs, throughout
most of the buildings on campus.
I have been thrown bodily into a
heated swimming pool, a freezing
pond, and an extremely solid
snow drift. I have witnessed good
friends return from the northern"
territories Of the campus, wet and
bedraggled, with spray-paint liberally coating their chests. I have
ridden herd over nearly one thousand clamouring frosh. Twice.
Said in this manner, I have come
to the rather sickening realization
that, with the exception of the
clamouring frosh thing, university life is awfully similar to high
school life, at least on the more
superficial level. Actually, it quite
resembled high school, except
that the university experience
was a bigger, more magnified version. The only real changes have
come from the fact that I'm now
having to learn more material in
less time, in classrooms where the
class size is ten times larger than
your average high school's and
that I actually have to pay for this
privilege.
So when I went back to my old
high school in order to borrow a
video camera with which I would
record Saturday's excursion into
folly (wherein I will hurl myself
off a thousand-foot bridge
towards an icy river with nothing
more than a glorified elastic band
securing my ankles to said
bridge), and I was asked by one of
my old teachers to give the class
my impressions on university life,
my reaction must have no doubt
been one of great puzzlement to
him.
I laughed uproariously, shook
my head, and, before walking out
the door, said the five words that
I wish someone had said to me
when I was in high school.
"Enjoy it while you can." Feb 28,1996
H
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2
PAGE 5
Dik Miller, Private Eye.
£■
1 Derek K.
^MILLER
"Standing over it."
"I see." His expression indicated
m   he had an idea. "Did you kill
■   her?"
he asked nervously.
"I have no idea. Is that what it
is?"
"Oh!" he barked. "Um, no, I
When we last left our hero
- me, for those of you
who haven't gotten
used tothe self-promoting first-
person narrative of these stories
yet -1 was standing over a dead
body.
The recently deceased woman
had just chomped down enthusiastically on a cyanide capsule
held between her teeth, shouting
something like:
"The secret of the GoldenRye is
going with me to my grave. You
can't drag it out of me!"
Whatever that meant, it was
now quite true.
"Hey, buddy," someone said
behind me. I whirled around to
see one of my ex-co-workers from
Parking & Security Services.
"Hi," I said as nonchalantly as
one can while standing over a
dead body. ^
"What's that there?" he asked,
pointing to the dead body over
which I was standing.
I cleared my throat. "That would
be a dead body.".
"And what are you doing with
it?"
^
AH, M WONDERS
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"Not directly," I said. I'm not
one to lie.
"Indirectly, then?"
"That depends on what you
mean by 'indirectly'," I said, making little quote marks in the air
with my index fingers.
"Perhaps I should approach this
from another direction," he
mused. "How did she die?"
"Cyanide," I replied snidely.
"Yours or hers?"
"Hers. A capsule between her
teeth."
"You didn't make her use this
cyanide, then?"
"Well, she did seem rather concerned that I would discover
something about the...er„.
GoldenRye, I believe she called
it."
His eyes widened. "The secret
GoldenRye destined for Ottawa?"
actually, uh, don't know anything about it. By the way, is that
a London Fog coat she's wearing?" He pointed at the body.
"I don't know," I said, turning.
"I'll just have to check."
I bent down to look at the coat.
But, reflected in the bezel of my
Dik Miller™ wristwatch/pasta
maker/hair dryer, I saw the
Campus Cowboy raising his billy
club high above his head, obviously in a silly attempt to knock
me unconscious.
My retort was blindingly fast: a
roundhouse Dik Miller™ Leaping
Llama kick aimed at his groin. It
missed him entirely, of course,
but catapulted me several feet up.
The billy club sliced only air.
I rolled into a Dik Miller™
Benificent Buffalo somersault,
intent on landing a swift
Haggling Hushpuppy stomach
punch. I missed again, but turned
BioioGi 204
TT A Vf A D V
to deliver the coup-de-grace: a
blizzard of Full-Fledged Floundering
Flatfish. Flip-Fxxted Fve-Freezing
Fisticuffs.
But I spent so much time trying
to remember the name of my
final move that I was distracted.
The club came down.
When I regained consciousness,
I was tied up quite securely with
what must have been several
boxes of dental floss. It chafed my
wrists and ankles annoyingly.
"What dastardly villain has tied
me up in dental floss?" I shouted
to the darkness in frustration. "At
least you could have the decency
to use waxed!"
No response.
"Hello? Anyone home?"
Nada. Only an echoey darkness
smelling vaguely of yeast.
The lights clicked on with the
deep, throaty "chunk" sound
only heard in dungeons. (My
attempts to make my bathroom
light at home to make that sound
have always been fruitless, at
least.)
"Ah, Mr. Dik Miller, Private Eye,"
said a man, who emerged from
behind a rack of rising bread
loaves. "You have discovered our
secret."
If I had, I must have let it slip
my mind somehow. But I went
along with it.
"Yes, I certainly have," I
declared. "And, hoo boy, you're
in big trouble now."
The man laughed in the way
only evil masterminds can (you •
know, that "Mouahahahaha..."
sound). "Before I eliminate you,
Miller, I must, according to evil
mastermind custom, describe to
you in intricate detail my entire
plan for world domination."
"Of course," I agreed.
"I do this so that, in the unlikely
event you escape the trap I am
about to place you into, you will
be able to track me down without
any effort whatsoever for a big,
explosion-wracked finale."
I nodded. "Par for the course."
"Given my druthers, though, I'd
probably just shoot you in the
head right now and be done with
it."
"Darnn those rules, eh?" I snickered. "Sorry. Just following the
action hero custom of being a
snarky bastard when in peril."
"Anyway, on with the description. Just a moment, though." He
turned to one of his henchmen.
"Prepare the tub of dough."
"Tub of dough?" I asked.
"Once you know my plan, Mr.
Miller, I'll have my pals here
dump you into a vat of dough,
and you will be part of the next
batch of GoldenRye destined for
Ottawa."
Well, at least I knew it was bread
now. PAGE 6
T       H       E
4       3       2
Feb 28,1996
The Annual Suck for Votes.
for President
for Science Senator
RE-ELECT TRACY
MACKINNON FOR
PRESIDENT
Hi there! Some of you may realize I'm already SUS President and that I'm running for re-election.This past year I instituted the SUS referendum to increase
the science fee so SUS could continue to have the 432,50% sports rebates, science club grants & bzzr gardens etc. However, more things need to be revitalized in SUS. So get out there and vote! I think the poll clerks even give you a
cookie!
My name is Bella Carvalho and I'm running for the position of President My
qualifications include 3 years of service to SUS, and holding 2 executive positions: Dir. Sports and External VP. I have served on AMS council, Intramural's
sports council, I st year committee, Sports Committee (chair) and Science
Week Committee (member and chair). As External I was in charge of Science
Week'96 and was the SUS representative to a number of different
organizations.What this adds up to is experience dealing with people and
councils, both important aspects for the job.As president, I would hope to
any time if you want to ask me questions...you'll find me there almost any
given day!
Other reasons you should vote for me? Well...l'm just so darned CUTE!
for Public Relations Officer
Andrew Lim
Greetings fellow science types (as well as you poor saps who are in arts or
engineering but recognize a good paper when you see one). I'm Andrew Lim
and I want to be your Public Relations Officer. I'm gonna keep this simple-
Voting for me is good, voting for anyone else is bad — get it? Me = Good,,
Other Person = Bad. Anyhow, if you're planning on voting for me, may you live
long and prosper (and show up on voting day). Otherwise, may you be tanked
a thousand times over.
Also running for Public Relations Officer.
Kathryn Murray
for Executive Secretary
RE-ELECT .GfUISI
FOR EXECUTIVE
SECRETARY
I'm Taro, yourbest choice for Exec Sec. You're probably asking, "Why should I
vote for this geek?'Well, here are a few good reasons. First, I'll put a classic
Dilbert cartoon in on every SUS council agenda. Second, as SUS rep to the
AMS, I'll responsibly make the details of the Coke deal publicThird, I've had all
too much experience working with both my undergraduate society and the big
bureaucratic mess that is the AMS, as AUS Treasurer. Also, I'm very punctual.
Oh yeah, my Evil Twin Brother is running for the Senate. Don't vote for him.
also running for Science Senator
Anita Lau and Kam Brar
I am a man of strange tastes. For example, I have a passion for compost, jigsaw
puzzles, colouring books, and scrap paper models. As a result, nothing printed
on coloured paper or thrown in the recycling box is a secret from me.
Anyway...l offer to make UBC less stressful.We should leave UBC with a sense
of what we can create together. I promise to make education accessible to
anyone who really wants it All those prerequisites and restricted courses
don't let us experience what we'd like to. I want more interdisciplinary courses. I want self-expression, instead of copying and repetition. I want your feedback to instructors on how you want to learn.
I trust you to tell me what UBC should be. Your vote will make the difference.
MuktakAklujkar
Hey! ■:■■ :-•--;■! '-Y<v--
My name is Carmel Chan and I am running for Science Senator.TamtheK W
Department Representative of Physiology this year and the guy whpsells you
the tickets at the Bzzr Garden. ,:,? :.,iC ■-,
Other than giving you the ticket to happiness, I would like to represent you as
the Science Senator to the Senate Caucus. I am interested in all academic issues
related to Science students and I am willing to work hard for you.; .
So, come one now and VOTE for me on Mar 4-6!       ;
Remember to choose C.C. (Carmel Chan) for S.S. (Science Senator). :
Jake Gray:Well, I'm the best I'm smarter, I'm fester, I'm better looking, and "1.1
have a higer alcohol tolerance.The other candidates are morally corr^p^finan-;
dally corrupt and downright gross.Vote for me cause I'll get you good shit I
won't burn anything and I've never been convicted of a major felony, j will "
endeavour to reach the high academic standards that this position entailsrfve'1
only had three tickets since last month and I successfully fought two of them. I
like large hairy rhinos who drink Spring pale ale. I'm glad I'm not InternalVR-
because it involves too much work.Vote for me and I guarantee large amounts
of cheap bzzr. Kudos to Jeremy for the #'s of beer he can consume in a short '
amount of time.Vote I like subliminal for messages because me they vote
invoke a message for whithout me people noticing vote for me ft    '
I'm Taro, sucking up for votes for Senator. Why would I do a good job. Well, I
was a Representative to the Faculty of Arts for two years, and a member of the
Faculty Computing Committee. I've also worked in research adminstration for'
two years, which provides me with an interesting perspective of academia. As
funding is cut to post secondary education, it is important that there be people
with the knowledge and experience to make informed and reasoned decisions
for the future. Oh, I almost forgot - my Evil Twin Brother is running for Exec.
Sec. Don't vote for him.
Fellow Science Students, Hi!
My name is Parisa Mehrkhodavandi, and I have the dubious pleasure of running
for Science Senator. It sounds like a very "distihguised" position and perhaps it
is. My real reason for wanting to be senator is that I have a few ideas that I
would like to bring to the attention of the Big Wigs and I think being on senate
might just do it (Oh, yeah, and the prestige!) If you have anything you would
like to bring to anyone's attention, PLEASE let me know.
Feel free to come out and vote,. I strongly urge you to do so.
Enjoy!
Experience.
BLAIR MCDONALD FOR SCIENCE SENATOR
ELECTIONS RUN MARCH 4-6 • BRING YOUR STUDENT CARD AND VOTE! Feb ,28,1996
H
E
3
PAGE 7
Hie un-read drawers o9 $US>.
Tracy MacKinnon
President
Welcome back from Spring Break! Isn't it great to be back and
inundated with midterms and term papers? That was, of
course, a rhetorical question. Anyways, executive elections
are on March 4-6, so be sure to go vote (hint: they'll give you a cookie
when you cast your ballot so it's a great way to get a snack between
classes).
I served on the committee for the Reappointment of the Dean of the
Faculty of Science and we made our recommendation to President
Strangway (unfortunately our recommendation is confidential). One
committee done with for the present. Hurrah!
I'm also (along with Jay Garcia our Internal VP) on the Faculty
Teaching Awards committee, which recognizes excellence in teaching.
This basically means that Jay and I (and the profs on the committee)
go to lectures in subjects we may or may not understand and evaluate
how effective that particular prof is. Damn, you shouldn't end a sentence like that but I can't think of how to rearrange the sentence so it
will have to stay. Anyways, we're still meeting and talking over which
profs will be shortlisted and this should be finishing up in March.
This month we'll be bringing some constitutional amendments to
council for approval. These amendments will allow Pre-Med, Pre-
Dent, Pre-Opt and Science One Survivors to vote at council (presently
they are ex-offido council members and cannot vote). It will also
change the way clubs receive money from SUS. Currently the amount
of their grant is based on the number of students registered in the
department, but if these constitutional amendments pass, the club
grant will instead be based on the number of people in the club who
are science students. In addition, the aforementioned clubs do not at
this time receive funding from SUS and if these amendments pass,
they'll receive funding just like any other science club. Pretty exciting
stuff for SUS. Some of you may think I'm being sarcastic, but actually
this is a big thing for SUS and science clubs.
As always, if you have any questions or concerns, drop by the office
(Chem 160)!
for Director of Finance
Jay says that even though nobody is running against me, I still have
to write a 100 word suck for votes for DofF. So here you go: Vote
for me Vote for me Vote for me Vote for me Vote for me Vote for
me Vote for me Vote for me Vote for me Vote for me Vote for me
Vote for me Vote for me Vote for me Vote for me Vote for me Vote
for me Vote for me Vote for me Vote for me Vote for me Vote for
me Vote for me Vote for me., please.
Also running for Director of Finance...
Doug Beleznay
for Director of Publications
Vote for Jer! -John
Vote for John! -Jer
for Director of Sports (uncontested)
Here am I! I am Warrick Yu, also known as "The Great Wall #88". I
am running for SUS Director of Sports, because lam an athletic individual, especially when I play acrobatically as a goalie of the SUS ball
hockey team.
uncontested
Mike Boetzkes (Social Coordinator)
Phil Ledwith (External Vice Pres)
Henry Wong (Internal Vice Pres)
Anna Carvalho
Jay Garcia®
Public Elations Officer
I told you so. I say that rather
bittersweetly. You see, in the
last issue of The 432, there was
a contest to prove that at least
one person does read these
columns at the back. All you had
to do was come in to SUS and tell
me that you had read it. Did an}f-
one come? No. The only people
to even try was my boyfriend,
who's already won one of my
contests (can we spell "conflict of
interest?") and my lackey, neither
of which counts because they
have to read my report anyways.
So I give up. From here on in,
I'm just going to give a perfunctory report, and I don't care how
dry and boring it is.
1. Instabeer: accounts still available. If you want one, talk to me.
2. United Way: apparently hiding from me the way I was hiding
from them.
3. Bork! Bork! Bork!: It happens.
Not that you care. But you don't
have to, because there are listeners that don't even go to UBC
that listen and phone in. So
there. (Interesting side note: since
we can't say "beer" on the air,
we've been trying to pronounce
"Instabzzr'... one off campus
caller thought it was
"Instabrassiere"...oh, the comments that flew about the size of
the jugs...)
4. My cape: I'm Still going to get
one. Arid when I do, all of you
who have ignored me will be
mighty sorry when superanna™
is a big deal and I'm going to
ignore you the way you ignore
me now. Phlbbbbt!
Frank the Lumberjack        	
SoCo
<personal rambling deleted>
Well, folks - another bzzr
garden down and only
two more to go! In fact,
I was chatting with one of my
right hand personages the other
day - a young blot by the name of
Carmel. Being the kind, always
ready-to-help sweet soul that he
is, he worked through the night
(along with several other kind
souls...). He commented afterwards that the No Class was most
definitely a "step up" from
November. I could only agree.
Karaoke was a hit....again. (But
this time with more...extended
participation - ie: extended to the
likes of those actually NOT affiliated with SUS..sort of). And the
sales sold on...
So now that you've all seen what
a wild time SUS has, I'm sure
you'll all be perking up those ears
for the SUS PENULTIMATE and
the SUS ULTMATE...... coming
soon to a chemistry bldg. near
you. Stay tuned!
Internal Court Jester
It had to happen eventually.
The year's almost over, and my
turn at bat nearing it's end.
Woohoo! No more Internal VP
for me! This was a cool job while
it lasted, but I'm looking forward
to moving on to bigger and better
things. Why, just yesterday, I
received a job offer as an
Experimental Candidate for
Parietal Lobe Reversal. And to
think that I wouldn't even have
been considered had it not been
for my activities in SUS.
You're probably wondering
"What in all nine hells is he
meandering on about this time?"
Upcoming elections, natch. A
chance for all the non-sluggish
members of the student body
politic to make your voice heard!
Your roaring cries will make your
will known to the world! Well,
maybe not "Roaring cries".
"Nasal whine" then? Whatever.
In any case, there's a brace of
people who'll be running for various important positions in the
Society, and it will be the actions
of next year's executive which
will determine the amount of fun
available to you next year. (Yes,
fun is now a quantizable element).
So on March 4, 5, and 6, in the
various Science buildings on campus, we'll have poll booths stationed, so come out and vote.
Bella Carvalho	
External Vices
Well, there's not really too
much going on right
now as far as my position goes. Actually, that pretty
much holds true for much of my
personal life as well, unfortunately. But that's another article
entirely.
AMS just had its AGM and
turnover on the 14th. I couldn't
make it (genetics midterm) but I
hear there were no fist fights
(darn). Other constituencies are
fairly quiet now, too - Arts and
Engineering will be holding executive elections soon (make sure
you get out and vote).
The no-class bash went well. We
all got to sing our little drunken
hearts out at the karaoke
machine. But a word to the wise:
if you're going to be running all
around campus looking for your
jacket (which walked away during
a bzzr garden) because it has all
your ID in it and all your friends
are at the Pit and then you want
to spend the rest of the night
dancing... don't wear new heels!
Happy leap year, everybody!
ELECTIONS RUN MARCH 4-6 • BRING YOUR STUDENT CARD AND VOTE! PAGE 8
H
E
4       3
2
Feb 28,1996
Memories.
What a refreshing break. I
got to spend seven fun
filled days looking out
the window at the down pouring
rain. All of which reminded me of
my rambunctious and often alcohol blurred youth.
I was spontaneously swept on a
mystic journey to relive my
youth. I don't know what
spawned this instant flashback,
perhaps it was the all the heady
memories flooding back to me, or
perhaps it was all the LSD my
brother slipped in my beer. The
cause still remains a mystery that
will never be solved.
The particular previously forgotten memory that was surfacing
was one from my extreme childhood.
It was 1984,1 was 11 and George
Orwell's predictions had proven
disappointingly hollow. Big
Brother was watching, but Big
Brother was watching The Dukes
of Hazard reruns.
I had just acquired my very first
aquatic vessel, a 14 ft. lake
jumper designed to use up to a 30
hp outboard engine. My first
action was to acquire a 60 hp
Yamaha and outfit it to produce
75 hp. <insert Tim Allen-like grunt
hero
Now the wonderful thing about
14 ft lake jumper-type vessels is
that they aren't meant to venture
onto lakes much larger than, say,
a glorified goldfish pond. And
they are most certainly not meant
to venture onto The Straight of
Georgia with 2.5 times their
horsepower limit attached to
their fannies.
So, on one particularly fateful
day in the month of June, a few
friends and I decided to venture
forth to the blue beyond in
search of the culture of ancient
pirates. Aside from plundering
any unfortunate gold galleons we
came across, we would participate
in the age-old sea chanty "Yo ho
ho, and a bottle of rum!"
Actually, it turned out to be more
of "Yo ho ho, and a bottle of rum
and coke!" But hey, who regulates
this kind of thing, anyway?
So we ventured forth in the
chilly post dawn morning air,
drinking ourselves silly and
shouting "Prepare to board her!"
every time we came within a
hundred yards of any other ships.
Sadly, we never came across any
treasure laden galleons, but we
did decide to follow a few of the
funny lines on our map, most of
which were wiggling back and
forth for some unknown reason.
So soon we found ourselves
floating in the middle of the
ocean, completely out of gas.
After a little triangulation and
other related position finding
efforts, we determined that we
were located just inside the forth
box from the left on our navigation chart. This also happened to
be the only box on the map that
contained the bold capital letters
"ACTIVE DEPARTMENT OF
DEFENSE TORPEDO TESTING
RANGE, DO NOT ENTER!"
So we panicked.
Now, there's only so much panicking you can do on a 14 ft boat.
So after running around for a few
minutes screaming like girls, we
all calmed down and started a
think tank to come up with a
solution to our problems. After a
few minutes of this, we decided
the ultimate conclusion was that
we were going to die, and the
only logical action was to panic.
So we screamed like Jeremy
again for a few more minutes.
Maybe I should explain how the
Canadian and US navies test torpedoes. They launch a torpedo
from a submerged sub at a remote
buoy suspended some depth
beneath the surface of the water.
This torpedo is then tracked by a
helicopter to it's destination
where it blows up the target buoy,
causing general distress for all
nearby fish in the area. The reason they don't want private vessels leisurely floating in the area
is that torpedoes are not particularly intelligent and tend to mix
up boats and buoys on a fairly
regular basis.
Our first problem was when the
onboard sonar tracked out the
perfect shape of a submarine
about 200 ft below Us. This in
itself wasn't so bad, but when
combined with the fact that 15
minutes later a helicopter started
flying directly towards us.
Needless to say, we were mildly
stressed at this point.
The most logical action at this
point was to climb to the highest
point on the boat and curl up
and bravely sob like infants. The
problem with this plan was that
anti-carrier torpedoes tend to
affect you even when you're a
whole five feet off the water.
A short while later, the torpedo
was visible whisking towards us
only a few feet beneath the surface. I've written a lot in the past
on embarrassment, but nothing
can compare to what my good
friend Matt did at this point. I'll
just say that he needed a change
of panties shortly there-after.
All our panic turned out to be
for naught, as the torpedo
approached rapidly, zipped under
us and detonated on the target
buoy fifty feet behind us.
The navy, who were kind
enough to board our now leaking
vessel and point several automatic weapons at our faces, gave us
all a tow back to port and even
promised not to press charges.
I came to in front of a rain
drenched window satisfied that
my vacation had not been a total
bust. Memories are worth the
effort, folks. Then again, so is
beer.
<serious mode on>
John, I hope everything works out
for the best.
-Blair
<serious mode off>
SCIENCE
UBC
You may hay
worLjOftc
ion dollars!
I^oriterf
SUB, HENNINGS,
.COMPSCI AND
PosmoNS.
4 *»rl>rr
%*T^Jk
*       10:30AM-2:30PM
MONDAY MARCH 4
«*.$_
TV,/*!
' US.
Averfc
EDNESDAY
^tf&fjv * ** *
CARD
SUS ELECTIONS 1996
PRESIDENT
INTERNAL VICE
HE|pRN^>li^gC
PUBLIC RELATIONS
PCECrSEeRETARY
-—-""flNANCE
ICATIONS
' SENATE
SOCIAL COOiPW^rf^^
ssssssss^
„s*-W*'T'^4j*iJf' *'
niMlip^fOO could just get a
free cookie at the poll booth.

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