De Auld Beer Quiz O’ De Lunatic
May de luk av de Oirish be witcha on dis examinashun, laddy!
May de luk av de Oirish be witcha on dis examinashun, laddy!
Our Fall 2016 issue is now available online for your reading, viewing, and gustatory pleasure. For sheer paradise, click on the covers below. For sheer and utter damnation, click here.
“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
When the last scene of your life flashed before you, you looked back at the footprints in the sand. You noticed that along the path of your life you were walking alone.
This really bothered you and you questioned the Cornell Lunatic about it. “Hey Cornell Lunatic? You said one that I would read you, you would walk along with me through the rest of my life. And yet, when I look back in the sand, there is only one set of footprints. I don’t understand why when I need you most you would leave me?”
The Cornell Lunatic replied, “Bitch, why the hell do you think I would be walking with you? I’m a magazine, you dumbass; I don’t have feet! How dumb do you have to be to fall for some advertising ploy? Also, you could be dreaming of so many other things, like flying or being with your crush or living out that fantasy of you being whipped by a redheaded cowboy, yet you are dreaming about walking with a magazine. What the hell is wrong with you?”
Ahh, the holidays,
the most wonderful time to
write cover letters.
starts with unreal hangover.
Hope year gets better.
Haikus are easy.
They don’t even have to rhyme,
Unfortunately, the reign of much beloved interim president Hunter R. Rawlings III is officially in Lame Duck season, as President-Elect Martha Pollack gets ready to be sworn into office. Her upset victory in the backdoor Board of Trustees meeting was a surprise to rivals Tony Daygo and Jack Pady. In a speech this week, she tried to put aside her embarrassing Dartmouth background with a moving speech in which she said:
“As a computer scientist, I know I can speak for all Cornell students. I promise to bring this divided university together and create a safe space for all members of our community, regardless of class year, grade point average, or blood alcohol content.”
Unfortunately, in a stunning miscalculation, she delivered the speech on Saturday afternoon at 1pm, receiving a record low turnout as the campus drunkenly stirred into consciousness. Says local media analyst and propaganda expert, Denice Cassaro: “Frankly, I have doubts as to whether Pollack has the ability to get and maintain people’s attention. I would recommend the time-tested tactic of daily high volume bombardment of neon comic sans.”
As to how Pollack will govern, look no further than her previous leadership at the University of Michigan. If history is any guide, we can expect on-campus Keystone Light consumption to double and Cornell’s floundering football team to be revamped into a Big Ten conference member. However, Pollack may find that bringing Ann Arbor to Ithaca is like bringing Democracy to Russia. Only time will tell. In the meantime, strap in…it’s gonna be a ride!
Use the arrow keys to play the Cornell Lunatic’s version of Hangman!
I was born in Queens in forty-six
to a mean old dad and learned real quick
that knives and bricks and stones and sticks
(although they’re good for breaking hips)
are pale beside a well timed quip,
a little snippet of insults dished
’bout wives or looks or nervous tics
and when they call you a bulbous prick
or say you’re pulling dirty tricks,
remind them you’ll wall out the spics—
they’ll clap and cheer and tick, tick, tick,
you’ll scoop the Oval Office quick.