The Cornell Lunatic

1. We have a “Teenz” issue for this semester. This means you all can remember how great your teenage lives were with slumber parties and mall trips and— Wait. Since we’re at Cornell, we all started college prep in 6th grade and effectively killed our adolescence.
2. “Oh my god Stacey, did you see the new Lunatic issue?”
   “Yaas Tracey, it slaaaays.”
   “Doesn’t it have a big butt?”
   “Oh my freaking god it does.”
   “Like it looks so good in those yoga pants that have ‘CU NOOZ CAN SUCK THIS’ printed on the back.”
3. Wanna learn how to apply a new oatmeal face mask that can remove all the wrinkles you already have because of shitty Slope Day Artists? Go to page 48.
4. You guys care about seniors, right? This is our seniors’ final issue, which mean they probably won’t ever be writing anything funny again. These seniors will grow up, do hard drugs, marry, travel to Thailand on their honeymoons, join an orgy during their honeymoons, settle down, get a real job somewhere on the east coast or California, have two and a half kids, drive to soccer practices, drink boxed wine unironically, watch graduation ceremonies, start working out again, get colonoscopies, consider divorce but realize that after 43 years it’s too late, get left at a retirement home, and die alone wishing that weed is legal so they can get a damn joint. They will never have the chance to write anything remotely funny again. Do it for the seniors.
5. With the summer coming up, many of you will want to have fun nights. What’s a better way to have fun than being locked up in your room with a bottle of Svedka and this newest issue of The Lunatic to read and reread for hours on end?
6. In Kendrick Lamar’s “HUMBLE,” he starts off by saying, “Wicked or weakness?/ You got to see this/ Waaay (yeah! yeah!)” Kung Fu Kenny was rapping not about other rappers to be humbled by his music, but rather about the Cornell Lunatic and how its presence humbles us all.
7. Ever met Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson? Neither have I. Since we’re both failing life together, we might as well read the Cornell Lunatic together.
8. One night, your mommy and daddy decided that they wanted to have a baby together. However, your mommy didn’t find your daddy that attractive, so what could he do to turn her on and make a baby? Your daddy ripped off the cover of the newest Cornell Lunatic issue, hot glued it to his face, and screamed, “HOW DO YOU LIKE ME NOW, BARBARA?” Your mommy, seeing this beautiful face, decided immediately to have sex. That is how you were born into this world.
9. This issue goes out to my newest lover, IHOP. IHOP is always there for me and doesn’t call me a sociopathic liar who takes advantage of others sexually to cover up his insecurities. I just pay IHOP now to please me with beautiful warm stacks on stacks covered in a sticky sauce. IHOP, baby, just because of you, people should read the Lunatic.
10. Please read it. We put so much work into it, but not as much as your mom did last night.

Ever wonder about how the Lunatic develops jokes and satire that transcend humor as a genre? Our writers make heavy use of our very own Funny Word Checker. Want to see for yourself? Type a word below to find out if it’s a funny word:

Result:

THIS IS A FUNNY WORD

Sal Elder ’17

“I was just eating my usual 1 AM double order of onion rings, and I look up and I was just shocked” says a local greasy viewer.

There seems to be no better word to describe the installation, reaction, and cultural phenomenon of “Voyage of Humanity Vol. 3” inside of Cornell University’s Bear Necessities café on North Campus. Seriously, there really is one. Right now, the scene is mobbed in Donlon Circle, usually filled with fratboys waiting for rides and girls seeing who can wear the shortest skirts in subzero temperatures. The discovery has sent shockwaves throughout the art community worldwide, bringing in art historians and media outlets near and far, from The Cornell Lunatic (print edition) to the New York Times Fine Arts section (online edition).

Incredibly enough, the third and critically acclaimed work of art in D. O. Odler’s landmark Voyage of Humanity collection has been on display in the café for years! Even more amazing, the specimen has no protection whatsoever: no bulletproof glass, prohibited flash photography, and even the presence of food and drink near it. “Well, the maggots eat the food squashed in the booths, they don’t eat on the wall”, Bear Necessities’ head art curator and griller shouted over blasting millennium beatz. “Although one time there was a massive food fight and we were cleaning marinara sauce off the ceiling for weeks.”

“I wrote my Early Decision essay all about Volume 3, it’s such a masterpiece! To be able to further my education alongside such history and passion…ugh, I don’t know if I’m about to orgasm or go to the bathroom!” a swarmy little fuck interrupted my calzone to tell me at some point, but I didn’t get enough quotes from the art critics to finish the article. The one I did manage to snag by shouting “Kurt Vonnegut used toilet paper,” had this to say about the mural: “I’ve never seen such visceral anguish captured in a single brush stroke. The fiery reds practically jump off the canvas and into my very soul… wait, is that marinara sauce?”

For those who haven’t seen the glorious spectacle, or were among the clueless college students who never comprehended one of the few artistic triumphs of the last half-century, I’ll do my best to describe the watercolor wonder. Imagine you’ve walked nearly a mile uphill, past drag racing food delivery cars and dilapidated party houses that seem to be sinking into the ground with every thump of bass. You are cold. You are tired. You didn’t realize the party’s theme was actually “Bros Needing Shirts,” so your My Little Pony tail is dragging in the mud. Then, like a guardian angel sweeping down from the heavens, it hits you. Not the vomit, that was last block. That smell. Walking in, you see every walk of life, every expression imaginable present in this institution of life, every soul blending seamlessly into each other so that a universal zeitgeist arises and manifests itself in every nook and cranny of your very being. You feel sad and scared and hopeful, and you realize that’s what makes you human. That, my friend, is what “Voyage of Humanity, Vol. 3” truly looks like. And there is nothing nasty about that.

Matt Barker ‘19

To the Editor:

We, economists, were dismayed to see the countless publications unjustly target the House Republicans’ bill to repeal and replace Obamacare, also known as the American Health Care Act (AHCA), also known as Ryancare, also known as Some People Will Die It’s A Part Of Life Buddy Then Smirk And Shrug. Among the baseless arguments these articles have made: (1) The AHCA will largely benefit wealthy individuals, (2) the ACHE will result in thousands of individuals dying, and (3) The ACNE will cause 24 million Americans to become uninsured. We, economists, will address these issues one by one.

(1) Many analysts have argued that the ACRE benefits will largely go to upper and upper-middle-class Americans. This point, while empirically correct, is a weak argument against the AHEM, because it assumes that the greater American public does not hate the poor. If you, in fact, consider this outcome of CHAI in the context of hating the poor, it becomes clear that the ARCH in actuality creates a win-win situation: The rich win, and the poor (whom we hate) lose.

(2)  An oft-cited statistic states that thousands of individuals — most of whom are low-income — will die as a result of decreased coverage brought about by the ARRG. While this statistic is entirely accurate, biased media coverage has failed to shine light on the silver lining of this statistic: That if you hate the poor, deaths that are otherwise avoidable are objectively good.

(3) Finally, the Congressional Budget Office (CBO) estimates that approximately 24 million Americans, mostly the poor, will become uninsured as a result of the CHACHA. Once again, this statistic demonstrates the sheer bias that is created as a result of elitism in Washingtonian echo chambers. What even is “CBO,” and why do they have so many Emmys? Alas, even if we disregard the subjectivity and miscalculations involved in deriving this number, this argument also falls flat. Imagine this: Instead of giving the poor rights, we don’t, because we hate them. Thinking about the situation with this perspective truly alters the schema of costs and benefits. Once again, we, economists, find that when we simply begin to hate the poor, the ARCHIPELAGO becomes an extremely attractive policy proposal.

Although the ACHOO is imperfect in its current form, it can become perfect if only we as a society are able to open our minds to actively hating the poor, perhaps even more than we already do. It may be difficult at first, but together, we can achieve unity in anti-poor hatred that we would have never thought possible.

Sincerely,
Economists

PM ’19

“Hey everybody take a look at me, I’ve got street credibility.” George Michael spits truth and funk as I make my way to algo at around 8:57 AM. I’m dodging and weaving through the crowds: gaggles of Canada-Goose girls, couples taking up two-thirds of the sidewalk. Pass me or be passed, suckers; these steel-toe waterproof boots aren’t holding up for anyone. Up ahead, I see a busy intersection.

“Hey! Hey jerk, you work, This boy’s got better things to do.” Doesn’t George Michael technically have a job as a singer? As usual, during class changeover time, the line of cars is massive at each stop sign at the three-way intersection by Uris Hall. Small clusters of people appear at each crosswalk, with some sweet little Asian girl obediently waiting for the car to go by, but scurrying across when a jogger blasts through. There’s always people crossing, crossing, crossing… the first car can only edge up, wait, edge up, wait…

“Wham, bam! I am a man. Job or no job, You can’t tell me that I’m not.” The music courses through me like adrenaline. Why the hell should I stop and let any cars go? They’re just another obstacle to dodge, a hunk of metal at that. There’s hundreds of students that have places to go, classes we’ve paid too much to go to. I’m going to miss my professor’s carefully calculated latest pop culture reference because YOU couldn’t wait another 2 seconds? My swift steps will cover that crosswalk before you can mutter your favorite traffic cuss under your breath.

“Do you enjoy what you do? If not, just stop.” As if I heard a careless whisper utter the lyric, I stop. I don’t enjoy waking up to go to this awful class. I know the professor will joke about crazy Ithaca weather. Do you enjoy what you do? I… I don’t think I… but then what do I… If not, just stop. And I have stopped. I hear car horns blaring. A blue bus is rounding the corner right towards me. But I do not move. I don’t enjoy what I do. My eyes finally slide to the car directly in front of me. George Michael nods slowly in the driver’s seat, dressed all in white in a baby blue Kia. “Don’t stay there and rot,” he whispers, before revving the car and flying over me and into the beyond. I did not stay there and rot.

“Do you want to work? – NO / Are you gonna have fun? – YEAH.” Everybody say Wham! – WHAM! / Say Bam! – BAM! / Everybody say Wham! – WHAM! / Say Wham, Bam! – WHAM! BAM! / Can you dig this thing? Are you gonna get down? Said one, two, three, rap, c’mon everybody / Don’t need this crap!

“Everybody say Wham! – WHAM! Say Wham, Bam! – WHAM! BAM!”

Matt Barker ’19