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(09/26/06 2:53am)
Last week I came before you a proud and confident man. This week -- older, wiser and threatened with death because of my words about the IU sociology department -- I come to you equally as cocky.\nThis week is all about the future. What does it hold? What can we expect now that I claim to be the best candidate for IU president? For a sneak peak of what is to come after President Herbert's departure, I've taken the liberty of providing you with what will be my first address to the IU population after taking office. Here it is:\n"Students, faculty, staff, uptight and interfering donors:\n"It is my pleasure to stand here as your chosen leader. This office commands integrity, compassion and virtue, three words that I have recently referenced in a dictionary. Now that I know their definitions, I will strive to act like I care about them. \n"We are quite literally at a crossroads at this institution. Highways 37 and 46 intersect somewhere near our great campus, and I suppose this is what a crossroads is. The motto of this state says that Indiana is the crossroads of America, which must mean that every road in the country intersects somewhere in a cornfield. This is good, for no other legitimate reason exists for people to come to Indiana. \n"I must admit that I am largely a foreigner to your state. I hail from Washington, and not the one with Bushes and shrubs, but the one with pine trees and mountains. It is upon these mountains that we build trust, and I come before you to ask you to trust me in my new role. Allow me to present to you my top priorities:\n"First, I promise to bring you more school dances, a longer lunch period and more dodge balls for the playground. This strategy got me elected student body president in middle school, and it will not fail me now. Some of you might be thinking that higher education doesn't need dances, lunch periods or playground equipment, but the Bloomington Faculty Council has already called the jungle gym -- so tough. \n"Second, every student shall receive free tickets to IU football games. What's that you say? You don't care about the football team? Well, neither do I. That's why we shall band together and scalp these tickets in the parking lot for large profits. We will use the money to build an unnecessarily large $55 million sports complex that only gets marginal use. Any remaining money will go toward a giant gold statue of Bobby Knight that will be worshiped on a daily basis.\n"I know that I have large shoes to fill. I only hope that I can accomplish half the very few and unmemorable things the previous administration has accomplished. To paraphrase Steven Colbert, the president who governs best is the president who governs least, and by this standard, President Herbert has been exceptional. Thank you, and God bless IU"
(09/19/06 2:26am)
As everyone and their cousin knows, IU is searching for a replacement for President Adam Herbert. Consider the following conversation between my cousin in Florida and myself.\nCousin: Hey, Scott.\nMe: What up, home fry?\nCousin: I hear they're looking for a new president at IU, right?\nMe: Yeah. \nThe presidential search committee, chaired by board of trustees member Sue Talbot, held public forums Sept. 15 to flaunt the fact that no undergraduate student from Bloomington is on the committee. Consider the following conversation between Talbot and Betsy Henke, IUSA President:\nHenke: There's sub-par student representation on the search committee. \nTalbot: I know. Ha ha. Sucks to be you!\nMuch like the above conversation with my cousin, the Talbot-Henke exchange never happened, but it's still funny to think about.\nWhat is true, however, is that the search committee looks for a certain set of leadership characteristics in its candidates. A few of the listed qualities that are sought for a president include unassailable integrity, demonstrated work ethic and commitment to diversity. With these in mind, I'd like to officially announce that the presidential search is over. I'm your man!\nWhy am I the next president? Well, based on the search committee's leadership standards, I assert that I'm the perfect candidate. Consider my qualifications:\nUnassailable integrity: For starters, I'm an Eagle Scout. At age 10, I punched a girl on the playground, but I felt bad about it later. I also went to a homecoming dance in high school with a girl because I felt sorry for her. I'm pretty sure that bleeds integrity.\nWork ethic: For years I've labored in my academic pursuits. I once stayed up until one in the morning typing a paper. During finals week several years ago I studied in the library until 9 p.m. As a result, I didn't eat dinner until after 10. Do you realize what I'm saying? I didn't even have a snack, for crying out loud! If that's not work ethic, I don't know what is.\nCommitment to diversity: Two of my best friends are Korean and American Indian. Once, I was in a bar when a priest and a rabbi walked in, and I didn't make a joke. I even ordered a drink for the rabbi. I'm secure enough to watch "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy" without my girlfriend present. Because of this, I've taken to waxing my eyebrows. I thought it was weird at first, but my Korean friend said it brought out the color of my eyes. Then he winked. I punched him, but I felt bad about it later. That's pretty much the definition of diversity in my book.\nThere you have it, my qualifications for president. Sure, I don't have a Ph.D., but I could easily get one from the University of Phoenix or the IU sociology department. \nI'll take my paycheck by direct deposit. Thanks.
(09/12/06 2:52am)
remember when I told my parents that I was different. The setting was rather dim -- if that is how such ambiance can be described. Lighting in Chinese restaurants is notoriously low, which is an appropriate metaphor for how I was feeling at the time. But despite all the misgivings I had for what I was about to say, I knew it had to be said. Sure, they might think I was some sort of weirdo, even a shame to our distinct family name, which had been guarded and unblemished for decades. Despite all of this, it was high time to come clean. It was time to stop living a lie. \n"Mom, Dad," I stammered. "I'm \nCanadian."\nMy parents looked at me like I had just passed gas while receiving communion. If faces could actually melt from dismay, my parents' were doing just that.\n"What do you mean?" my father asked, as if I had been speaking gibberish.\n"I mean that I have become a Canadian citizen! You know, that huge-ass place up north!" My mother, never one to give in to an awkward moment, felt it necessary to dig in further. \n"How long has this little charade been going on?" she asked, as if something this serious, this monumental in one's life, could really be summed up in such an inquiry. \n"It's not a charade, mother!" I snapped back. "This is real, and I'm serious dammit!" There was a brief reflection of horror in my parents' expressions, and I realized I had broken the cardinal rule of bombshell dropping: Don't do it with sharp knives around. \nAfter a moment, my dad settled the mood. \n"Look, son, your mother and I love you, and you know that we support you in anything that you do, but what will the neighborhood think about you prancing around like some -- some maple leaf-loving fruit cake?!"\n"It's not like that!" I roared but was quick to calm my tone. "Canadians are good people. They lead a very clean lifestyle, and they're a really close community."\n"This is going to ruin Christmas!" cried my mom. "We can never tell your grandmother. How do you ever expect the family to take to you, walking around all prim and polite, bringing your little Canadian friends home to visit?" \nThere was a small pause between "little" and "Canadian," as if she had to stumble to think of the proper word to describe my new social circle. \nI had had enough. My parents were just going to have to accept the fact that I was different. Screw Christmas. Screw Grandma.\n"I'm sorry if this disappoints you. I can't change who I am. I'm here, I'm Canadian. Get over it!"\nFortunately, I've never had to deal with the prospect of telling my parents anything as difficult as the above situation described. I'm as American as they come, so no Canadian encounters in my future -- not that there's anything wrong with that.
(09/07/06 2:31am)
The United States of America:land of the free, home of the brave, cesspool for the non-sensical and abstract. \nThis week we begin a series of riveting columns that explore the various identities that countless philosophers, commentators, bloviators, crime scene investigators and all around terrorist-loving freedom-haters have used in their assessments of our culture. Since summer has officially come to an end with the recent passing of Labor Day (What about the Fall Equinox, you ask? Screw scientists with their theories and facts. They can't even get Pluto right!), let us reflect on time spent in that traditional summer pastime: brush cutting in Crawford, Texas ... I mean road-tripping.\nSpending time on the road can yield much about the fabric of our great country. I've had the opportunity over the last several years to criss-cross this great nation numerous times, with each instance granting me a new sense of appreciation for how much I hate corn. What I do love, however, about driving to new places is the absolute freak show known as bathroom walls. The following are some examples of the gems I've encountered in my travels, along with some useful insights of what such markings really mean. I'd encourage the discerning reader to truly take the following phrases to heart and submit to me classic bathroom sayings that you've run across in your travels. These, by the way, are completely true.\n"Please remember to flush twice ... It's a long way to the kitchen." \n-- Sign in a gas station on I-5, south of Sacramento, Calif.\nIndeed, I adhered to protocol and flushed twice. Immediately I was transported via Star Trek technology to a kitchen that seemed entirely too far away.\n"I sit here, buns a flexin'. Look out below, I dropped a Texan. -- (Signed) an Okie." \n-- Outhouse wall in Denali State Park, Alaska.\nThe fact that this person's hatred for said Texans extended all the way to Alaska points out what everyone in the United States has thought for a long time: Texas sucks.\nAnd lastly (I swear I'm not making this up, but I have edited it for the sake of not being fired):\n"Die you crack-addicted rat low-life scum of a Nazi. Pig-dog syphilitic corpse lover."\n-- Road-side rest stop, somewhere in the northern Yukon Territory.\nUnderneath someone had responded:\n"Nazis don't smoke crack you idiot!"\nI'd have to be in general agreement on that one; Nazis probably didn't do crack. They were much too high-brow for such trashy drugs. Now crystal meth -- that's a drug that can make you invade Poland!\nSo, there you have it folks, a little slice of Americana for you to chew on and promptly spit out. \nSend your favorite bathroom entries for the "Writing on the Wall Project" to sleading@indiana.edu. Or, you can follow the advice of this classic entry:\n"For a rockin' good time call Bill at 555-LOVE"\n -- Bathroom at Fox News.