My name is Rebecca Gold; I’m a junior, and a proud native of Chicago, Illinois. It’s a new season of the Nass and this time we’re doin’ it up big style like we was in the Casimir Pulaski Day parade. I’ve been entrusted with the responsibility of doing the Weekend Page every other week. They tell me that I’ll be switching off weeks with a certain “Zeb Blackwell”, although not having met him, from his name I’m guessing that this is not a real boy at all but rather some sort of 1780 Pilgrim Robot. Only time will tell….. In any case, you’re reading this on a Friday, which means you’ve just emerged from that weekday zombie haze and come upon the glistening shores of experience and cultural consumption that is the Weekend…my hopes are that this page will aid in that weekly revolution of the spirit, and give you a heads up to some important things going on around campus. And now, as the song goes, we enter that “great big bundle of PO-TEN-TIALIT-YYYYYYYYYYY”….
GS Job Talk.
“Graduate Student Job Talks” 201 Marx Hall
February something, sometime or another p.m
Okay, usually it’s important to get to a graduate student job talk on time because it doesn’t last very long. Coach Brattlebauer (a hard-ass “life peaked when I was high school QB before the injury and all the bitterness” meathead football coach sentenced to lead the scholastic bowl team after a drunk driving accident and by the end he teaches them to whatever and they show him howta ya know) gets in front of a room full of grad students, looks down at his clipboard, says, “Hmm. Graduate student job talk… Okay, uh, you guys still wanna be professors, right?” and, after some staggered murmurs of assent, “Alright, good, then, back to class.”
Except this isn’t any Grad Student Job Talk. It’s the GS Job Talk. This is where, when Coach B asks, “you guys still wanna be professors, right?”, GS, G fuck-ing S, G “I have a definite trace of an Eastern European accent but I’ll always deny it” S, raises her hand and without being called on, says, “I suppose I could always pursue a career in academia (pronounced to rhyme with macadamia), but I’m also thinking of going into consulting or public pawlicy.” Because right, that vague accent. GScomment is greeted with utter silence. Was that a question? Was that a-? Everyone starts filtering out of the room thinking, “what a twat…” But she never gets it.
Gender, Technology, and Development: The AIR Project
Friend Center 006
Tuesday Feb. 12th, 4:30 PM
This event’s publicity blurb explains that, “AIR offers women the opportunity to participate in community radio broadcasts as ‘citizen journalists’ who can discuss issues of concern in the “virtual space of radio.”
No matter that this project seems to envision a world where Orwellian pap meets post-modern pap smear at the end of can on a string hanging in some corner of the Friend Center, the “issues of concern” as discussed by the women of AIR will still probably sound like:
Guevara, Naomi 6J-33X: Did you see what Desdemona Snarvox was wearing at last night’s community rally?
Tatiana.5: Oh my Goddess. She made that propaganda sash out of, what, a corrective shock wire ? Am I right? I mean, you could practically see her entire bio-connective grid webbing!
Guevara, Naomi 6J-33X: And did.you.see. the expression on her face when I told her that the menstrual anthem she posted on our guild’s orbspace totally denied the potential for a transgressive differented otherness? I thought. She was going. To-die.
THIS WEEKEND: FOUND ON THE PRINCETON INTERNETS
*NOTE: All web-based content is the real deal!!
Found on the Princeton Point wall:
LOST, blue pill keeper containing my Adderall prescription. Need to find it! Last time I had it was in Firestone, B Floor
zirschky, Sat January 26, 11:56 am
A blue “pill keeper”? Kind of like a fanny pack – does that make him an old man, a foreigner, a hipster? A little of all three?
That same day, 11:57 AM, the race is on in Princeton TV’s newest reality show, “The Amazing Race to Find The Lost Adderall Prescription on the B Floor of Firestone!”
Cast of Characters:
Josh, the Sunday Dysphoric: It’s 4 pm and the sun is quickly setting on a weekend of interest and joy. With the onset of dusk comes that feeling y’all are all familiar with, the doom of complete SUNDAY DYSTOPIA. This kid has done everything to try to shake himself out of those blues, but there’s only so much chocolate milk to drink, only so many Seinfeld DVD’s to watch. If Sunday was a material it would be Flax, I’m talkin’ New York middle-aged momma outfit Flax, and you know that can’t be good. Besides, his name is “Josh”, which has got to feel weird. Josh tries some Wikipedia action to beat the shakes, but after a few dejected minutes, just mopes on over to his point homepage whereupon he finds the wonderful news that somewhere, in a little blue pill keeper, may be just the boost he needs!
Officer Riley, Firestone Bag Checker: “It’s tough work being the exit man at Firestone. Jansport, Kipling, North Face, Eastpak, plastic baggie, canvas sack; there are a whole lotta types of bags and you have to know how to throw an absent glance into each sagging unzippered maw that still makes it clear you’ve got their shit figured out, got their spines read. It’s hard work that takes a whole lotta concentration. Heck, I even got hobos comin’ through here with a little bandana tied to the end of a stick, a “bindle” I think is the professional name, and I gotta look through those to make sure they ain’t stealing’ a Rare Books copy of that Babysitters Club book that introduces the fact that Kristen is ‘bossy’. Either way, it’s high stress out here….. if only I could run down to the B-Floor to find that blue container of bozoinko pills…..”
Zach, CJL Treasurer: “Okay, so, conservative estimate, we have two dozen pills – enough that this guy doesn’t just call in a new script and write off a five pill loss. But we could be looking low as ten, could go high as thirty, thirty-five – I should be so lucky! So let’s just say I know some people who know some people on the ICC, some club officers, and with midterms coming up we’re looking at a three-pass per pill exchange. I’m tellin’ you, I can make this happen. Bubeleh, bubelehhhhh, remember when we fixed the dodgeball tournament? What’d I tell you then? That’s right. You gotta take a little risk to make a little brisket. As I was saying, we diversify, getting a broad basket of passes from all the bicker clubs but with a focus on the clubs that are playing strongest among freshman girls. Then we sell hard to those freshmen boys, and before you know it, we have a budget for this year’s Chocolate Seder the size of my Aunt Esther’s tuchus – before lipo. Even after the lipo, the way she goes for that bobka, wouldn’t be half bad. And you, my good sir, are looking at five points off the top for your troubles. No, I will not go up to seven – what do I look like? A man’s gotta eat! A man’s gotta go to Ajihei now and then. Alright, alright, six. Deal. A gut shabbos to you”
The Weekend List. This Week: Things That’ll be Uncomfortable This Weekend:
1) Realizing mid-dissection that the amount of too-dry pulpy flesh you’re going to get out of this bum Clementine is really not worth the effort but that you’re gonna go through with it anyways and it’ll let you down.
2) When the local history you are researching for your thesis on microfilm in Firestone uncovers an old newspaper article that makes it fairly clear that your professor died in a freak accident in 1957 and is therefore a GHOST!!! And then you feel a hand on your shoulder and it’s your ghost professor and he says, “Who knew that tenure extended beyond the grave?” And then he starts making those spooky ghost noises in a silly voice and you’re both sharing a laugh but he guffaws a little too hard and you haveta pretend not to notice and make over-comfortable small talk about that week’s Pequod reading.
3) The former middle kid in a three-kid “trenchcoat grownup” team running into the new team on its way to see “No Country for Old Men,” and they haveta tell him that they replaced him with that Honduran kid who’s really good at soccer and hence more stable, moves more natural.
4) Same as Number 3, except the former middle kid retorts, “But I’ve practically been a camp follower of the Coen Brothers since Barton Fink, and Moises probably won’t understand a word of this movie,” and then Moises, from within the trenchcoat, says, “I learned English by watching Raising Arizona, again and again, and in Tegucicalpa I paid for my schoolbooks selling homemade Miller’s Crossing trading cards.” And the ex-middle is left feeling like a culturally insensitive jerk.
5) Telling that guy whom you’ve always thought looked like such a graham-cracker face that his face looks like it’s made of graham crackers.
And now, this week’s Ecstatic Experience:
Go to this website (typing it in will be worth it):
Scroll all the way down to the bottom. “What is wrong with this picture?”