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Former Debate Team Captain Really Interested in Greek Life

Clay Christain — Thu, 03 Jun 2010 01:48:15 +0000

Colin Smithterson, a rising Vanderbilt class of 2014 student and former captain of Greengrass High School’s debate team, is announcing to the entire world his desire to discuss Greek life. The seventeen year old swears that he will discuss all of the issues and respect every other student’s respective viewpoints.

“I pledge to value everyone’s ideas and concerns about this pertinent topic,” Smithterson said on the class of 2014 Facebook group. “Let none of us rush to conclusions about this situation as it involves global consequences.”

Connecticut resident Katie Andrews, a fellow rising freshman, publicly asked, “Which groups are you looking at? I heard it’s different for girls!”

“Well, I believe the IMF is the go to organization under today’s circumstance.” Smithterson replied. “Many are turning to Germany, but the solution really transcends any one group of people. Gender doesn’t really play much of a role in today’s Greek politics.”

“Woah!! How many German students are at Vanderbilt?” Brooksbrooks High graduate Allie Chadson asked to the masses. “Are they into the Greek scene?? Totally cool!”

“The Germans have a strong tie to the Greeks,” Smithterson asserted. “To have one without the other in this day and age is entirely unheard of. The entire larger community could collapse without Greeks benefiting from the Germans.”

“Cut the crap! I have one question: who’s gonna have the top parties, man?” aspiring HOD enthusiast Will Blandersmere asked to the group.

“Well, in Germany, no one is sure if Merkel’s CDU will be able to retain as much power in upcoming elections because of the Greeks,” the debater declared. “The crisis in the Greek community is so massive that no one knows for sure who will come out on top. All we know is that most leaders are likely to resign in fear of their personal safety.”

The Slant was unable to reach Greek Life Director Kristin Torrey for comment on the incoming class’s discussion, as she was throwing rocks at a riot squad and looting television sets during an anti-government riot.

Colin Smithterson ('14) and "friends"

Mushroom Kingdom Experiences Coin Hyperinflation

Clay Christain — Wed, 19 May 2010 22:03:39 +0000

The worldwide economic recession has spared no country as reports out of the Mushroom Kingdom indicate a currency catastrophe spiraling out of control. The Kingdom is one of the last remaining nations in the world to have no issued bank notes. Its economy relies entirely on the world’s oldest monetary unit: the gold coin.

Economists have been baffled by the abnormally high levels of inflation for such an isolated country that one would assume to still be on the gold standard.

“In actuality, the Mushroom Kingdom took itself off the gold standard in the mid 1980s,” the country’s chief economic advisor Archibald Toadstuttle said. “Our coins are merely gold plated. We learned a lesson from the great 90s ring crisis in Mobius.”

The Mushroom Kingdom has long been a leading pipe and brick manufacturing hub, but the recent downturn has spurred growth of a booming illegal drug market.

“Many of our citizens have been selling normal, super and even gold mushrooms just to get by,” police chief Kooper Hammersmith said. “The worst problem now is dealers selling poisonous mushrooms that look identical to real ones.”

The kingdom’s closest and oldest ally, Italy, has voted to initiated a large scale aid program to the nation’s monarchy.

Not worth as much as you think.

Melodores Embark on Grandiose Quest

Meryem Dede — Sun, 25 Apr 2010 23:13:11 +0000

Today, April 21, the Melodores are having their final concert of the year, “The Meloship of the Ring.” To prepare, members have decided to forgo shaving and wearing shoes up to and throughout the duration of the concert. Throughout the year, the group has had many issues on campus with other a cappella groups, and the Meloship of the Ring is only one in an epic series of performances the group hopes to hold to honor their journey as a new performance group on campus.
“At the beginning of the year, we stumbled upon an old songbook of the Dodecs, and after seeing their bad tonal constructions we, of course, decided to burn it,” Sam Fortenberry said, describing the catalyst that sparked the adventure the group embarked on throughout the year.
After finding the songbook, Fortenberry describes how Concert Choir, wanting to steal the songbook for their director, swarmed the Melodores, battling for the music. “After the battle, we finally thought we got away from the Concert Choir, but then we found ourselves in MRB3 with no way to escape…” fellow Melodore Frodo Baunach said.
Barricaded within MRB3 with Concert Choir bearing down upon them, all hope seemed lost until fellow a cappella group Variations came to their aid, helping to push back the Concert Choir onslaught whilst escaping from the building.
“Man, I don’t know what we would have done without them. In the past, the Melodores and Variations didn’t really work well together, so it was great for them to come to our aid,” Baunach said.
Finally on their own, the Melodores found the nearest barbeque grill on campus and fired up some charcoal. Throwing the songbook into the fire, the Melodores finally felt like they had completed their journey in establishing themselves as an a cappella group on campus.
After the conclusion of their concert series, the Melodores feel as if they will never be able to return to a truly normal life.
“You know, I really think that kind of journey just changes a person, whether he be hobbit, human, or harmonic singer,” Fortenberry said.

Students React to Rites Lineup

Jim Gillin — Tue, 20 Apr 2010 06:02:14 +0000

The Vanderbilt Music Group did a great job setting up a Rites of Spring festival this year that truly caters to Vandy students. What’s so special, you ask? Why, none other than the plethora of sexual innuendos (or in-YOUR-endos) and alcohol policy carefully designed to make this weekend fun for all, of course!

Rites of Spring is admittedly an off-year this year, with many students disappointed in this year’s musical guests… which makes alcohol that much more important to everyone’s enjoyment of the weekend. As sophomore Kathy McDonald remarked, “They [VMG] just let me down with this line-up… Why couldn’t we get someone good like OAR?” Junior Patrick Tarantino added, “Yeah, I was really hoping for OAR! They’re my favorite band, and TOTALLY still relevant in today’s music scene!”

In fact, Vanderbilt has established a top-secret mathematical formula to determine which years Rites will host good acts. This is how they determined to bring Run DMC to Rites in 1998, starting a long history of bringing rap artists to every event on campus. They also scored a huge hit in 2002 when they had none other than legendary rock and roll band OAR come and put on a REAL show!

Yet while musical guests this year are not stellar, they are clearly designed to please the average Vandy kid with the plethora of sexual euphemisms in their names and music. Friday afternoon had “Lubriphonic” followed directly by the “2 Door” Cinema Club– because everyone knows you need Lube before going in through the back door. Unfortunately, 2 Door Cinema Club has had to cancel their performance this year, due to a rough ride last weekend when too many people forced their way into the tour van through various openings and the chassis suffered some minor rips and tears.

Saturday, we are all going to get a look at Trombone’s “Shorty,” and at 5:55 be treated to JJ Grey and “Mo-fo.” Finally, late Saturday we’re going to take a dip in the “Passion Pit” as Ben Harper shows us how he likes it: Relentless.

To help deal with these average performances, each student is allowed to bring in 6 12-oz cans of beer. Enough to get sauced for a few hours, at least. However, Vanderbilt helps guarantee the maximum kick from your alcohol by only allowing you to carry in one bottle of water, with no other drinks to alternate with your beers, and you’re not allowed to bring in any food to slow the absorption either. Also advocating the overconsumption of alcohol at Rites of Spring are Drake and Ben Harper, who are coming as part of the Campus Consciousness Tour. Drake had this to say: “Consciousness is a huge issue on college campuses nationwide. My tour is to raise awareness of the consciousness problem and get those poor few freshmen who are still standing something else to drink!”

So remember to drink responsibly (take advantage of the limit you’re allowed to carry in and/or heavy pregaming) and enjoy the weekend; you will know you had a good time when Sunday morning comes and you can’t remember a thing, and Alumni Lawn is coated with more trash than the front porches in Memphis.

A.J. Ogilvy Graduates to the Big Leagues of the NHL

Dan King — Tue, 20 Apr 2010 01:49:13 +0000

This past Thursday Vanderbilt’s star center AJ Ogilvy announced that he would skip his final season in the NCAA in order to enter the NBA draft. However an unfortunate clerical error has instead put the 6’ 11’’ Australian up for consideration in the NHL draft.
Ogilvy was reportedly angered by the error at first, but in a recent press conference says he’s looking forward to a change of pace, “I mean in the NHL they don’t even have rebounds, so nobody can get mad a t me for not getting them! Plus apparently in the NHL if you get angry at somebody, you can just hit them in the face. I think I’ll enjoy doing that.”
The NHL says that they’re very glad to have Ogilvy in the draft. According to one NHL representative, “Well, his form raised a few eyebrows when we noticed he wasn’t from Canada, and that he had apparently scored 13 points per game in college. But right now we’ve really only got enough players for the first round so we took him.”
While Ogilvy has spent most of the past three years playing basketball with the commodores, but he feels confident he can figure hockey in time for the June draft. “It shouldn’t be too hard,” says Ogilvy, “From everything I’ve read it just sounds like boxing on skates.”
NHL teams are very excited at the prospect of having Ogilvy on their squad. According to Edmonton Oiler’s coach Pat Quinn, “He’s a really athletic guy and we can really see him being able to step in to any position once he learns to skate. I mean as long as the guy can hold a stick and throw a punch, we can use him.”
Ogilvy would be in good company, as fellow Australian Wayne Gretzky also decided to join up with the NHL on a whim. The Great One recalled fondly, “Yeah I had been running track for LSU and I wanted to play a sport that wouldn’t be so hot. So I joined the NHL because I heard they play on ice… the rest is history.”

Rites Done Right

Jonathan Newkirk — Mon, 19 Apr 2010 22:16:50 +0000

Every year a two day festival occurs at Vanderbilt University. The Rites of Spring music festival gathers artists such as Passion Pit, Lil Jon, The Flaming Lips, and Wolfmother for two days of music to close out the semester. Students have an intricate selection process of suggesting bands to come perform on Alumni Lawn. But the real fun comes in when you select the real star of the show, the six little cans of alcoholic happiness you can carry in with you.
Sure the most common route to RoS blissful memory loss is the heavy pregame, come down, then post game blackout. But to preserve that almost blackout buzz you have to be smart about what you take in with you. Old Chub, an 8% alcohol Ale, comes in six packs of 12 oz. cans for 10 bucks at frugals. However if you want to save some cash and have your beer to taste like watered down dog piss you could go the route of Natural Ice, pulling in at 5.9% alcohol. A case of 24, “NIce’s” can be picked up for $13.29. If you’re trying to earn some hipster cred you could show up with six Pabst blue ribbons and complain loudly about how much better Phoenix was in 2005. Coming in at 5% ABV $16.49 for a case of 24 you’ll be able to make some new friends with bad facial hair and tight pants.
For the rest of us who can’t bring in little bottles of happiness with us, we need to plan ahead. Look at the schedule and determine which shows you want to halfway remember. Now when you start drinking remember that your body processes about one to one and a half drinks an hour. For example if Cold War kids isn’t really your thing but the song 1901makes you dance uncontrollably you can afford to be blackout until 9:30 on Friday night. So you start drinking Friday afternoon. When you get to the level where your face is tingly and everything is slightly recognizable stop and look at the clock. For each hour you have until 9:30 you can have one shot or one beer. You’ll be able to remember the concert in the morning and as soon as Phoenix’s setlist is over you can grab a beer from a frat boy’s cooler and work back towards that memory less abyss.
This article is moot if you want to experience Rites over. In which case you’re a bitch.

Counter Point: Breaking Bones

Charlotte Fraser — Mon, 19 Apr 2010 21:55:58 +0000

Eighth grade is supposed to be a year of boy bands, sparkly lip gloss, acne, and the dying love of that enigmatic concept called high school. For me, it was the majority of that (well, replace the boy bands with Green Day. What’d you expect?) but with one lovely curveball thrown in: breaking my face.
Yes, you read that correctly.
It was the second week of school. A friend of mine, attempting at generosity, had a gaggle of girls over for a sleepover. I politely accepted, and believe I even brought a hostess gift of a bag of Reese’s Pieces.
Everything was magical and Lisa Frank worthy until that fateful moment.
The moment that changed everything.
Well, maybe just my face.
I did gymnastics when I was younger. Wanting to outdo whichever gymnast was considered “beast” before Shawn Johnson, I decided to do a front flip and land on my feet. 99.999999% of the time, this is what happens. But this time, I had the 0.000001% failure. My friends even warned me that my accident-prone nature might get the best of me (they barely even knew me and my bad luck already preceded me…), but I rolled my eyes and did it anyway, saying with confidence: “I did this all the time, I never hurt myself! And if you’re worrying about broken bones, I haven’t broken a single one!!” With which my right knee shoved into my face, fracturing my cheekbone 18 times, breaking the orbital (the bone that holds your eye in your face), and breaking my nose in 4 places—and now, since they didn’t do surgery then, I have to get my nose rebuilt on June 3rd (Care packages greatly appreciated).
Justin can sit on his high, healthy boned chair and gab all he wants to. He just better watch out before his face gets rammed in. By his knee. On a trampoline.

Breaking your face isn’t a glamorous movie make-up job. You don’t get kudos for being in a fight worthy of mentioning in an S.E. Hinton book. No, it just fucking hurts. Allergies are a bitch enough, it’s worse when you can’t blow your nose without crying like a baby and your face looks like it got transplanted from a Smurf–all in time for
picture day!!! I’ve had double whiplash, severe tendonitis in both shoulders, recurring sinus infections, bloody noses, hangovers, migraines, paper cuts, and bleeding knees. THIS IS SENT FROM HELL…OR SPARTA. As for this surgery, here’s what goes down. Basically, my nose is nothing but broken bones & scar tissue. So first they have to carve
out my nostrils to make them bigger. Then, they take all the skin off my nose and, in Ashlee Simpson style, realign the cartilage in my nose (aka, rebreaking my nose to put it back together). Then I get plastic shoved up my nose to keep my nose from healing shut together (so my nose would look more like Voldemort than Ashlee) and can’t breathe. So, while I get to be a lazy ass for three weeks, I’ll have blood running down my face ala Andrew WK and won’t be able to breathe through my nose.

Hot diggity damn.

Point: Not Breaking Bones

Justin Barisich — Mon, 19 Apr 2010 05:13:08 +0000

Call me “average” if you wish, but if that means that I manage not to do extraordinarily stupid things to break myself, then I suppose I accept the derogatory nomenclature as fact.

As an “average” person, here is a sampling of the crazy things that I’ve done in my life, all of which I’ve executed without breaking a single bone or even spraining something (knock on wood, or heaven’s door):

I’ve traveled around Europe. Cooped up in a plane on a trans-Atlantic flight; on a non-English-speaking bus; within a car driving on skinny, curvy mountain roads; drunken on a ferry boat; drunken on bike; drunken on foot; and on a train being conduct by travel workers who just recently ended their “You, imperialist swine, don’t pay us enough” strike. Moreover, some angry, uppity, French po-po’s almost arrested my friend Jeff because his last name is French and they just so happened to be looking for some runaway serial killer or something on our redline train ride. We were seconds away from being thrown in the slammer with him, had he been chosen as the scapegoat, which was frightening because foreign prisons are not places you want to go into, as you usually come out of them with at least a broken rib or two… if you’re lucky. “Innocent until proven guilty” only counts in America, my friends.

I’ve worked as a deckhand on a 50-foot fishing boat in the Gulf of Mexico for 8 summers. In all that time, the worst that I’ve ever done was the bruise my thumb in a sliding door, but I chalk that one up to a combination of exhaustion and rocky seas. Image growing up around Steve Irwin-slaying stingrays, a couple of flailing baby Jaws, and a whole bunch of other nasty, water-dwelling shit that wants to get up close and personal with you. I have shaken hands with many a sneaky crab, but I have never injured or killed myself while working at literally the most dangerous job on the planet. Out there, you find yourself quite happy that “gloves hinder love,” as you probably don’t want what those sea creatures have to offer.

I’ve skied the slopes of Denver, Colorado (those being Vail, Breckenridge, Beaver Creek, etc.). Though I damn near busted my head open on an ash tree while glade skiing, almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades, as the old adage goes, and since my brother and I weren’t occupying innocent countries or tossing u-shaped pieces of metal at a stick (by the way, this is quite a stupid sport), I like to think that I made it safe to the home base (also a stupid sport).

I’ve won multiple shopping cart races in the Wal-Mart parking lots of many cities, all without a helmet, because they ruin the natural aerodynamics of my sexy, full-bodied hair.

I’ve scaled quite a few public statues and have defiled them for long enough to have also the photographic evidence of doing so. Now, instead of the founders of countries or religions, they serve as the founders of my humor.

I’ve gotten schwasted in public in multiple cities, the most recent and epic of which almost resulted in a in a fight at Mardi Gras with an overly angry-drunk and territorial tourist frat boy. Remember, spilled drinks can be your friend, as long as they end up on the other, disliked person.

I’ve grown up having sword fights with my older brother. We gradually advanced from empty paper towel rolls to huge, empty wrapping paper rolls to fallen tree sticks to wooden, Japanese bokken swords, and finally, to wielding cheap metal swords and tinking them together until they were dented to oblivion. Never was an ocular nerve damaged or a hand severed in the intense battles of our imaginations.

So, appropriately, after listing what I’ve been able to do without needing some sort of medical attention, I have a few questions for you more mended folk out there:

Were you just looking for attention?

Was it all just a cry for help?

You’re not really that dumb or that fragile, are you?

Are you really unlucky, or just really stupid?

Do you still need kiddie gates in your room at the age of 20-something?

Most importantly, if “I break your face” rises above the level of threat and results in actualized, full trampoline pwnage, I think it’s time for you to fold your cards. We can’t all be as glass-faced as 50 Cent, who received his from a friendly drive-by. Otherwise, he might lose just his cool.

Washington Nationals Fail to Sign President Obama to Contract

Alec Jordan — Sun, 18 Apr 2010 22:41:30 +0000

As March 5^th approached, many players from around the majors were looking ahead to opening day and the first game of a very long season (we’re going to label the New York/Boston game the night before as “ESPN Marketing Bullshit” rather than ‘The Season Opener”). The “Ace” pitchers were ready to take the mound for their respective teams… but there was one exception. Barack Obama, also known as The President, took the mound to start for the Washington Nationals in their home opener against the Philadelphia Phillies.

This was neither a mistake nor a joke; there was actually a method to this madness. After all, it’s been no secret that the Nationals have had their eye on the Obama ever since the two parties fatefully landed in Washington nearly simultaneously back in 2005. In the midst of the 2007 season, when it was quite apparent that the Nationals had no chance of any sort of success for that season (so in like, early May or something), the franchise began to seriously work towards a long-term contract with Obama. The (at that time) Senator dragged the dealings out, however, claiming he had “better possibilities in his near future.” In any case, no deal was struck.

Talks were idled, what little hopes there were for the franchise wilted, and the Nationals entrenched themselves into two more years of pathetic baseball. In 2009, however, they moved again. The organization realized that Obama was the perfect man to head up their rotation. With little to no baseball skill and a questionable reputation, the Nationals simply had to get him on their team. All through the 2009 season, when other teams were focusing on other, less important things such as “winning,” the Nationals were pursuing their man – Barack Obama.

Opening Day, 2010 marked the culmination of yet another failure by the Washington Nationals. Obama threw out one pitch as if to say “goodbye forever, baseball!” and left the field soon after. When asked why the deals broke down, both sides had differing views. On one ocassion Obama was reported as saying, “The money simply wasn’t good enough – they wanted me to take a cut. Obviously, they think I’m either a great president or a horrible pitcher.” The Nationals said, however, “The deal breaker came in all the small clauses he tried to sneak by us… [he] wanted to change the name to the ‘Washington O’Bombers.’ I mean, we’re the Nationals, and even we know that sounds stupid.” Thus ended all hopes of a new face in the rotation and headlines reading “Obama Leaves Washington; Heads for Washington.”

Tiger Woods Comes up Short at Augusta, in Bedroom

Grant Lewis — Sun, 18 Apr 2010 22:14:13 +0000

After 144 days away from the PGA tour to deal with “Pressing Family Issues” or what we call in the hood, a 3 iron to the grill, Eldrick “Tiger” Woods returned the golf course. The media was abuzz with excitement, and many predicted(including myself) that he would runaway with the tournament. Yet despite the roars from the crowds and the endless ovations, Tiger failed to deliver. What!?! Somehow the paragon of golf fitness and physique, lost to some fat white dude with a semi-mullet. What is the world coming to? Next thing you know, some short white foreign guy will win NBA MVP, or the Mets will rise out of the doldrums and win the World Series. What’s that? Vandy made it past the first round this year? No? Shucks. Ok Tiger, you’re off the hook.

I mean from all accounts, this is your first Masters in recent memory when your bevy of brunettes, bouquet of blondes, and ruck of redheads was not waiting for you at the 20th hole with an assortment of “amenities”. Maybe we need to do more than forgive Tiger. It was reported that Wilt Chamberlain had relations with over 10,000 women, and this obviously helped him score 100 points in a single game. Tiger was only in the 20s and is on the cusp of breaking the Golden Bear’s record for Majors. Think of the possibilities for Mr. Woods if he weren’t so conservative, his stats would be on par(my apologies) with those of Best Korea’s aka North Korea’s Kim Jong Il. Mr. Il is known for his superior golf game and hits a hole in one three or four times a round! We all know he has an entire country of mistresses.

Maybe the speculation that marriage is holding Tiger back is only true, if the marriage holds him back from cheating on his wife. Personally, we need more guys like Tiger Woods, seemingly perfect yet horribly tarnished. Fat drunk John Daly isn’t very exciting, thats your typical NASCAR fan who can drive the ball 500 yds. We need a Roger Federer incident, with some working ladies in Amsterdam. Or a Jimmie Johnson with some Waffle House waitresses. It is almost a guarantee that Peyton Manning would not have thrown that pick six in the Super Bowl had he been cheating on his wife. Why else would the Saints be so confident? Heck even Tom Brady stopped winning after he made up his mind and became loyal. All I am saying is, when someone is so loyal to a sport or anything for that matter, they need to be disloyal in some other aspect of their life. Keaunu Reeves’ acting career never truly blossomed until he gave up on the acting part. Heck, even Barack Obama wasn’t able to save America until he gave trillions to those destitute banks and Wall st. Firms.

All that being said, Tiger will come back with a renewed vigor and strength in the next two majors. These are courses where he has won by the course record while not even breaking a sweat(possibly because he knew he’d be breaking a sweat later). So in order to restore the Order in the golf world, let us hope that Tiger recalls some of his fonder moments in life, when he was not tethered to his gorgeous wife or adorable kids, but to some homely looking Perkin’s cashiers or Home Depot garden experts. Despite all this I am glad to know that a talented golfer with a beautiful wife was able to stay competitive and faithful at the same time, even when his rack is bigger than hers. Oh well, hopefully Tiger can roar come June.