Now that exactly 81 percent of the semester has passed and Thanksgiving thrusts itself upon us like a horde of Mongols out of the Far East, it is once again time for serious self-reflection. When a man turns his gaze inward, he knows not what he will find.
As the ageless cedars stand resolute in the face of autumn and winter winds begin to whisper along the Sea of Marmara, we find it appropriate to note a few of our modest achievements.
Thus far, we have:
— Ushered in a renewal of enterprise reporting and rigorous database analysis in campus journalism
— Appointed the first Ampersand Ombudsman (from the Old Norse umbuðsmann)
— Re-popularized basketball jokes
— Given due exposure to crawling and other non-walking lifestyles
— Abstained from the delicate topics of gender identity and sexual orientation
— Refrained from defaming Michael Roth
Seagulls circle the masts of ships and the slim peaks of minarets. The late-day sun draws a world of steam up from the currents of the mighty Bosphorus. A turbaned spice merchant leads a line of chained African eunuchs to the bustling caravansari, through the crooked streets of the Bazaar. The murmur of cloistered women emits from a chink in the wall of a seraglio; they will never leave the harem, their gilded labyrinth of pleasure.
We wish you a safe journey home and a cornucopia of plenty during this harvest season. And let us give thanks for all that is, all that was, and all that will come to pass.
With utmost sincerity,
Your dear friends Piers & Benjamin
11/19/10
Index of Mary Shelley's "Frankenstein"
N.B. The author of this index has never read Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. The following are a compilation of presuppositions, particular to the author, based on hazy memories of Mel Brook's Young Frankenstein (1974) and the Sparknotes “Character List” and “Themes, Motifs & Symbols” pages.
Dreary afternoon, Prologue i-xxiv; William, Justine, and M. Krempe die of ringworm, 1;Victor lonely, narrates chapter of The Inferno in full, 5-27; “It was a dark and stormy night…” Also, some lightning, 31; Realizes that due to inferior craftsmanship, project will have permanent stitch-marks, also eight feet tall, green, 32; Painstakingly teaches monster to speak, results typical of uncommitted foreign language student 37-109; Monster discovers literature, confines himself to library, 115-178; Description of insufficient lighting in library, 116; References to Paradise Lost, 150-162; Monster decides John Milton is a “phony,” 162; Victor fails to notice Elizabeth, 190; Elizabeth weeps, stares out window, 191-207; Monster goes to town, unfulfilling conversation with cobbler, 210; Monster refused seating in luncheonette because he is “colored,” 215; Monster lonely, Victor lonely, 217; Elizabeth lonely. No one notices, 218; Victor plans female monster, monster overjoyed, 220; Victor: “Psyche!” 221; Monster burns Victor’s library, 225-240; References to Paradise Lost, 240; Victor: “I’m not angry; I’m disappointed,” 243; Monster and Margaret picnic in country; sexual ellipsis, 255; Descriptions of Nature, 260-327; Monster learns to play clarinet, seeks Victor’s approval, 330-361; Elizabeth weeps, 380; Margaret: “I, the miserable and the abandoned, am an abortion, to be spurned at, and kicked, and trampled on,” 422; Margaret: “No one notices me!” 435; Elizabeth weeps, 436; Monster cast in Wicked as Scarecrow, 490.
Dreary afternoon, Prologue i-xxiv; William, Justine, and M. Krempe die of ringworm, 1;Victor lonely, narrates chapter of The Inferno in full, 5-27; “It was a dark and stormy night…” Also, some lightning, 31; Realizes that due to inferior craftsmanship, project will have permanent stitch-marks, also eight feet tall, green, 32; Painstakingly teaches monster to speak, results typical of uncommitted foreign language student 37-109; Monster discovers literature, confines himself to library, 115-178; Description of insufficient lighting in library, 116; References to Paradise Lost, 150-162; Monster decides John Milton is a “phony,” 162; Victor fails to notice Elizabeth, 190; Elizabeth weeps, stares out window, 191-207; Monster goes to town, unfulfilling conversation with cobbler, 210; Monster refused seating in luncheonette because he is “colored,” 215; Monster lonely, Victor lonely, 217; Elizabeth lonely. No one notices, 218; Victor plans female monster, monster overjoyed, 220; Victor: “Psyche!” 221; Monster burns Victor’s library, 225-240; References to Paradise Lost, 240; Victor: “I’m not angry; I’m disappointed,” 243; Monster and Margaret picnic in country; sexual ellipsis, 255; Descriptions of Nature, 260-327; Monster learns to play clarinet, seeks Victor’s approval, 330-361; Elizabeth weeps, 380; Margaret: “I, the miserable and the abandoned, am an abortion, to be spurned at, and kicked, and trampled on,” 422; Margaret: “No one notices me!” 435; Elizabeth weeps, 436; Monster cast in Wicked as Scarecrow, 490.
Thanksgiving!
International students unfamiliar with the American holiday “Thanksgiving” often ask how it originated. It’s actually a pretty
straightforward story. Basically, when the Pilgrims landed on Plymouth Rock hundreds of years ago, they realized that they were
totally unprepared for life in America. Luckily, the Native Americans invited the Pilgrims to their harvest festival. Historians imagine that it probably went something like this:
Native American: Hey, I hope you enjoy our delicious harvest festival. We don’t always have enough food to feed ourselves, but we’re totally willing to share with you out of the kindness of our hearts. After all, the land doesn’t belong to anybody, and its crops shouldn’t either.
Pilgrim: Hey, thanks! I can’t wait to eat your food, steal your land, rape your women, viciously subjugate your people using firearms, give you diseases like smallpox to which you have no immunity, kill the animals you feed off of, fight several wars with you, burn down your villages, constantly drive you onto smaller and smaller parcels of land, and ultimately attempt to make amends for killing off 95 percent of your people and relegating you to a lower social class by giving you small areas on which you can make casinos and fight amongst yourselves about who is native enough to reap the profits, and all because your religious views haven’t developed in the exact same way as ours!
Native American: Wait, what did you just say?
Nowadays, celebrating Thanksgiving is pretty easy. You get together with your entire extended family and eat a ton of very specific food items. These include:
Cranberry Sauce — It looks like a can because it came out of a can. The red color represents the spilt blood of the indigenous.
Corn — Squanto, an English-speaking native, taught the Pilgrims how to grow corn by burying fish. The corn then helped Pilgrims survive and kill natives. It symbolizes the white man’s triumph, and should not be eaten by vegetarians.
Stuffing — Proof that turkeys are, in fact, made of delicious bread filling. Should be eaten slowly while contemplating the meat-grain continuum and discussing the food pyramid as an inaccurate representation of the food groups.
Gravy — Liquid fat. Will doubtless be poured over everything.
Mashed Potatoes — A nod to the Irish potato famine.
Oysters — Delicious, but not served at Thanksgiving. Godspeed.
Turducken — Key/uck/icken
Turkey Roast — Should be eaten.
Following the feast, you sit around and try to avoid hearing for the sixth year in a row about the time that Aunt Jean saw the back of Woody Allen’s head when she went to New York City in 2004, while the vegan tryptophan slowly and mercifully puts everyone to sleep on the couch in front of the television.
straightforward story. Basically, when the Pilgrims landed on Plymouth Rock hundreds of years ago, they realized that they were
totally unprepared for life in America. Luckily, the Native Americans invited the Pilgrims to their harvest festival. Historians imagine that it probably went something like this:
Native American: Hey, I hope you enjoy our delicious harvest festival. We don’t always have enough food to feed ourselves, but we’re totally willing to share with you out of the kindness of our hearts. After all, the land doesn’t belong to anybody, and its crops shouldn’t either.
Pilgrim: Hey, thanks! I can’t wait to eat your food, steal your land, rape your women, viciously subjugate your people using firearms, give you diseases like smallpox to which you have no immunity, kill the animals you feed off of, fight several wars with you, burn down your villages, constantly drive you onto smaller and smaller parcels of land, and ultimately attempt to make amends for killing off 95 percent of your people and relegating you to a lower social class by giving you small areas on which you can make casinos and fight amongst yourselves about who is native enough to reap the profits, and all because your religious views haven’t developed in the exact same way as ours!
Native American: Wait, what did you just say?
Nowadays, celebrating Thanksgiving is pretty easy. You get together with your entire extended family and eat a ton of very specific food items. These include:
Cranberry Sauce — It looks like a can because it came out of a can. The red color represents the spilt blood of the indigenous.
Corn — Squanto, an English-speaking native, taught the Pilgrims how to grow corn by burying fish. The corn then helped Pilgrims survive and kill natives. It symbolizes the white man’s triumph, and should not be eaten by vegetarians.
Stuffing — Proof that turkeys are, in fact, made of delicious bread filling. Should be eaten slowly while contemplating the meat-grain continuum and discussing the food pyramid as an inaccurate representation of the food groups.
Gravy — Liquid fat. Will doubtless be poured over everything.
Mashed Potatoes — A nod to the Irish potato famine.
Oysters — Delicious, but not served at Thanksgiving. Godspeed.
Turducken — Key/uck/icken
Turkey Roast — Should be eaten.
Following the feast, you sit around and try to avoid hearing for the sixth year in a row about the time that Aunt Jean saw the back of Woody Allen’s head when she went to New York City in 2004, while the vegan tryptophan slowly and mercifully puts everyone to sleep on the couch in front of the television.
Nimrod Levy, Falconer
“Achashverosh, strike!”
The roof of Judd Hall serves as an unlikely perch for campus’s one remaining competitive falconer, Nimrod Levy ’12. Levy’s prize falcon Achashverosh can triangulate the whisker movements of a field mouse from six hundred feet.
Levy is the finest falconer in the NESCAC league, having defeated Coxsackie College, Slippery Rock University, Amherst, and Williams in September and October.
“Achashverosh is my second falcon,” says Levy. “I had to dismiss my other falcon, Hester, when he became embroiled in promiscuities. I knew the whole while that all he wanted to do was find mates. I brushed his feathers every day, and I even took him to the pigeon-man in Meriden when he was sick and he couldn’t fly, and see how he repaid me?”
Falconry is a sport that dates back to the Western European fiefdoms of the late Middle Ages, where the violent pageantry of the
lordly hunt was an archetypal motif in tapestry and poetry.
“Achashverosh is totally the shit,” Levy continues. “He brings me the most squirrels of any falcon I’ve had. Squirrels make a great stew. He knows how to skip out on the mice, because mice only please him, not both of us.”
Levy says he keeps a low social profile at Wesleyan, since he would likely be skinned alive if it were discovered that he has been
secretly cooking squirrel stew in the kosher kitchen. However, between his lonely room in 156 High, his perch, and sexually frustrating Tomb parties, he has begun to express desire for a human mate of his own.
“If any girls just want to, you know, cuddle or whatever, you know where to find me,” says Levy. “I have bird seed.”
The roof of Judd Hall serves as an unlikely perch for campus’s one remaining competitive falconer, Nimrod Levy ’12. Levy’s prize falcon Achashverosh can triangulate the whisker movements of a field mouse from six hundred feet.
Levy is the finest falconer in the NESCAC league, having defeated Coxsackie College, Slippery Rock University, Amherst, and Williams in September and October.
“Achashverosh is my second falcon,” says Levy. “I had to dismiss my other falcon, Hester, when he became embroiled in promiscuities. I knew the whole while that all he wanted to do was find mates. I brushed his feathers every day, and I even took him to the pigeon-man in Meriden when he was sick and he couldn’t fly, and see how he repaid me?”
Falconry is a sport that dates back to the Western European fiefdoms of the late Middle Ages, where the violent pageantry of the
lordly hunt was an archetypal motif in tapestry and poetry.
“Achashverosh is totally the shit,” Levy continues. “He brings me the most squirrels of any falcon I’ve had. Squirrels make a great stew. He knows how to skip out on the mice, because mice only please him, not both of us.”
Levy says he keeps a low social profile at Wesleyan, since he would likely be skinned alive if it were discovered that he has been
secretly cooking squirrel stew in the kosher kitchen. However, between his lonely room in 156 High, his perch, and sexually frustrating Tomb parties, he has begun to express desire for a human mate of his own.
“If any girls just want to, you know, cuddle or whatever, you know where to find me,” says Levy. “I have bird seed.”
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