Volume XXXVI • Issue 2 • November 2018
the FEDERALIST Columbia’s Only Newspaper That Ben Shapiro Literally Destroys With Facts and Logic
A Dispatch from the Feditors
THE STAFF EDITORIAL BOARD Ani Wilcenski Ben Most Feditors-in-Chief Nick Ribolla Managing Editor W. Reed Simmons Head Submissions Editor ASSOCIATE BOARD Alex Horn Layout Editor Natalie Arenzon Graphics Editor Sam Millner Copy Editor
Harrison Gale Video Editor Michelle Dandeneau Archivist
Mimi Evans Publisher Jeremy Adkins Julia Schreder Annie Iezzi Luis Vera Julian Pecht Submissions Editors STAFF WRITERS/ARTISTS Joey Baer Matthew Linsky Julia Basnage Isobel Shaffer Mimi Evans Jaysen Zhang LAYOUT TEAM Alex Horn Augusta Owens Julia Schreder CONTRIBUTORS Elizabeth Bailey Will Barker Jesse Braun Chen Chen Julia Cobb Amelia Fay Payton Geller Garrison Grogan Uma Halstead Jenny Han Nicole Kohut Gil Levitan Milan Kende Loewer Owen Long Jonathan McClement
Nikhil Mehta Mai Morsy Matthew Nola Augusta Owens Jordan Panzier Greta Parr Amey Pasarkar Santiago Peuser Kate Della Pietra Wesley Schmidt Malia Simon Kate Steiner Max Waldroop Maddy Warrell Rachel Zhang
Dear Pilgrims, With Thanksgiving recently passed, we have a lot to be thankful for here at the Fed. We’re thankful to Prezbo for being a silver fox. Without his dashing stature and bold expansionist policies, we’d have significantly less creative inspiration. We’re thankful to James McShane for battling crime on campus. His only crime is stealing our hearts. We’re thankful for off-campus housing, which will allow us to hide the three dead bodies in our closets from the watchful eyes of Columbia Housing. We’re thankful for Bwog for tirelessly producing such exceptional journalism as “Why Does the Harmony Lobby Smell Like a McDonald’s?” Without you, we’d have nothing to mindlessly scroll through when we’re bored in Music Hum. We’re thankful for our conservative uncles. Sure, we may not always agree with them, but at least they keep things interesting. We hope you had a good break. Now that you’re back for more late nights in Butler, we’ve got some fresh Fed material to distract you from your woes. Peace, love, see you after finals, Ani and Ben The Feditors-In-Chief
TABLE OF CONTENTS PAGE 3: Snakes and shit. PAGE 4: Strong, independent womyn. PAGE 5: You can never go too far. PAGE 6: What is this, Cornell Ag School? PAGE 7: God it’s fucking freezing. PAGE 8-9: ??? PAGE 10: Gettin’ litty, fail city. PAGE 11: The Barnard-Nickelodeon Industrial Complex. PAGE 12: THC, nicotine, and other necessities. PAGE 13: Fuck your opinions. PAGE 14: Meaningless campus news. PAGE 15: Cocks and roaches.
Cover Artwork by Jesse Braun
ANIMORPHS, GO!
A Miracle on Campus? This Econ Major Turned into a Snake By JULIAN PECHT
Rushed Slytherin MANHATTAN, NY Reports of a mysterious incident have been circulating across Morningside Heights, alleging that economics major Jake Lloyd, CC ‘20, is now a snake. Lloyd, previously an English major who apparently came to the decision that he valued his financial future over his creative goals, was seen leaving SIPA on Wednesday afternoon when all of a sudden he dropped what he was carrying, fell to the ground, and
began to shrink within his clothes. “It was super scary, man,” said witness Martha Fowler, CC ‘19. “All of a sudden he collapsed, and then we could only see his empty clothes in a pile where he was on the ground. But sure enough, a full snake came crawling out of the arm of his coat.” Other witnesses have corroborated this story, describing the snake as cash-green and vaguely slimy looking. Reportedly, Lloyd’s Apple watch was still attached to his body.
A friend of Lloyd’s, Peter Murray, CC ‘20, who was walking with him when the event occurred, told the Fed, “ We were just talking about getting lunch when he started growing scales and doubled over. It was pretty hard to understand him, but it sounded like he was whispering something about whether he could get a Goldman internship without hands to shake.” Other students have reported seeing a snake matching Lloyd’s description in Lerner Hall, in line outside the Career Office’s Finance Meet and Mingle event.
Historically Accurate Thanksgiving Lesson Gives 90% of Students Dysentery tell kids about that colonial moment -it’s another to have them experience it, Probably from Connecticut firsthand.” WESTCHESTER, NY -As Administration at Westchester High experimental teaching methods become agrees. “With these kids, a lecture goes more and more popular across progressive in one ear and out the other” said school American cities, one 10th grade teacher in principal Joseph Greenblatt. “But lying a small New York helplessly as the suburb is leading life drains out of the way. you due to violent, R a c h e l unstoppable F a l m o u t h , diarrhea? That’s a teacher at gonna leave an We s t c h e s t e r impact.” High, has created Local parents a lesson plan and activists for students have pushed to learn about back against the Thanksgiving curriculum. by researching “Exposing the PilgrimWe s t c h e s t e r ’s Wa m p a n o a g kids to this kind treaty, visiting of disease is local historical nothing short sites, and watching as the overwhelming of morally repugnant,” said local activist majority of their peers die a slow and group FreeEdu. “If you want to do justice gruesome death due to dysentery. to teaching America’s colonial past, you “It’s important that kids understand our should be giving them smallpox instead.” nation’s history in an immediate, visceral Students involved in the program were way,” said Falmouth. “It’s one thing to unavailable for comment.
By NICK RIBOLLA
“WITH THESE KIDS, A LECTURE GOES IN ONE EAR AND OUT THE OTHER BUT LYING HELPLESSLY AS THE LIFE DRAINS OUT OF YOU DUE TO VIOLENT, UNSTOPPABLE DIARRHEA? THAT’S GONNA LEAVE AN IMPACT.” - Rachel Falmouth
DIARRHEA IS PATRIOTIC
Graphic by Uma Halstead
STIFF NIPS
Girl Who Wore Tube Top to Homecoming Calls Cold Classroom Institutionalized Sexism
Graphic by Will Barker
Proactive Freshman Plans Out Next Four Years of Breakdowns and Crises By JAYSEN ZHANG Pro-Activia Yogurt JOHN JAY—Rebecca Davis ‘22 is handsdown the most proactive freshman on campus right now. Davis prides herself on finishing assignments three weeks before deadlines, and spends her free time planning out long-term goals. During NSOP, Davis planned out her course schedules for all eight semesters. Now that academics are out of the way, she is organizing her personal life for the rest of her time at Columbia. Davis scheduled a breakdown for two weeks after fall midterms, when grades would be out. “I knew that studying weeks in advance would leave me blankly staring at blue booklets come exam day,” Davis told The Federalist. Indeed, that is exactly what happened, but by planning ahead, Davis says she was “ready to break down, question everything, and then get right back to work.” Similarly, Davis marked the day after Christmas for her second breakdown, when she will suffer the same fate with finals. She has arranged these breakdowns to be recurrent for the subsequent seven semesters. In the beginning of March of her soph-
omore year, she has scheduled an existential meltdown about her direction in life. She will decide on selling out to Wall Street come graduation, but she has her sophomore spring booked for contemplating premed and pre-law. Additionally, she scheduled appointments to hyperventilate these anxieties and doubts to Academic and Preprofessional Advising Committees fifteen months in advance. Davis is also slated to find a boyfriend in her junior year, who she plans to meet at a Beta Halloweekend party, and she’s already penciled in some ugly fights with him at the one-month and three-month anniversaries. She has also marked her calendar to break up with whomever she will be dating at their six-month mark. She has arranged the next eleven days for ugly crying, eating exclusively at Häagen-Dazs, and hooking up with strangers on Tinder. “I’m just so thankful to go to a school where I’m learning real life skills,” said Davis. “If I were going to some small cushy college, having breakdowns out of the blue, that would really get in the way of my career.”
By ISOBEL SHAFFER Wore a tank top, it's different
FAYERWEATHER 303 -- This Monday afternoon, Sophie McKinney, CC `20 was overheard loudly explaining to her Intro to East Asian Film professor that the temperature the classroom was routinely kept at “represented a culture of toxic hypermasculinity.” “Men have been scientifically proven to like cold temperatures better than women. Have you read that Huffington Post article on office air conditioning?” asked McKinney, exaggeratedly wrapping her Canada Goose tightly around her. “It’s unfair for all the women in the class.” Said McKinney’s roommate, Catherine Aver y CC `20, “I guess, like, maybe the A/C is pretty cold in Fayer weather, but Sophie seemed pretty okay the other night when it was 40 degrees and kinda drizzly and she was wearing a white tube top with those little fake off-the-shoulder sleeves.” Ms. McKinney, who sits three chairs away from the window unit, reportedly spent the rest of the class glaring at the open window and pulling her arms inside her sweater like a mummy. Says her classmate Jake Biermann CC `21, “I dunno, I think it’s better than having the whole room smell like butt. Seriously, people do not wear deodorant. I am not tr ying to get mustard-gassed ever y time I step into Hamilton.” As of press time, McKinney was preparing a devil costume for Halloweekend which consisted of a red lace crop top and red bike shorts.
NEVER TOO EARLY TO PLAN
TOO SOON?
Dude With “Awesome Shooting Joke” Desperately Searching for Sweet Spot Between Shootings By ALEX HORN Paintball Enthusiast Self-described political satirist Jack Bernard, CC ’21, has been trying for over five years to use his favorite mass shooting joke in casual conversation. Sadly, his efforts have been constantly stymied by the continued frequency of mass shootings. “It’s a shame, really,” Bernard explained. “My shooting joke is definitely some of my best material — I came up with it myself, too. But every time there’s another shooting, I know I’ll have to go at least three months before I can even think about using it. And right when I’m about to pull the joke out, there’s inevitably another shooting: it’s like I’m cursed or something. It’s a real tragedy.” Bernard went on to express his deep empathy for the victims of mass shootings. “Look, I’m not trying to be a dick or anything,
okay?” said the insufferably self-centered sophomore. “Shootings are terrible: I get that shootings are terrible. But I feel like I have a responsibility to use my God-given gift for comedy to take that terribleness and turn it into laughter. And I can’t fucking do that if there’s a shooting every fucking week. The last thing I need is another ‘too soon’ moment: I got enough of that when I used my Cosby joke on a first date last year.” While Bernard was understandably coy about the joke’s exact contents, he did confirm that it includes unflattering references to both Obama and the NRA, as well as several apparently unrelated puns. Despite his continued inability to deliver his payload, Bernard has not given up hope.
GS Student Tries So Hard to Fit In He Actually Does By ISOBEL SHAFFER
Chameleon Breeder LERNER — Reports indicate that Jeffrey Alvins, GS ‘20, has been hanging out with the regular undergraduates at Columbia College, SEAS, and Barnard College so often and with such tenacity that he is now actually considered one of them. The 28 year old former mall cop is ecstatic about his new role as “one of the boys.” Jeffrey made his entrée to the younger groups by exploring meme pages and reddit to find relatable content to tweet. He has shattered this glass ceiling for GS students by doing the impossible: staying clean shaven. “I never really got the undergraduate experience since I had to keep working after high school, so when I finally made it here I was desperate to find that more youthful side of myself ” said Alvins, unprompted. “Everyone here has been very accepting, especially once I started masking my republican politics and general attitude around freshmen girls. Turns out, the bar for finding people to hang with at this school is pretty low, so long as you avoid those two.” Alvins left the interview early to go toss the disc with his “homies” on Butler Lawn, despite having torn both of his rotator cuffs. Alvins’ other undergrad friends seem to generally enjoy his presence. “Jeff is a good guy and actually quite the chiller” said Darius Xi, CC ‘20. “At first I was like, woah, this dude is super old and
shit. But then I was like, damn, he can just delete beers and has a few cool stories. Next thing you know, I’m his plus one to all the weddings he gets invited to, and let me tell you, those things are lit.” “I’m not too sure about Jeff,” said Isabelle Dyers, SEAS ‘20. “Ever since he joined our group, we’ve been going to sketchier and sketchier places with him. First it was fine, the crowd at Lion’s Head was a bit older than at least I was used to, but last night he took us to what I can only describe as a former crack den now turned cantina. Why? He wanted to hear an old flame from high school try to sing over the sounds of multiple bar fights. If this is what being a grown-up is, then you can count me out.” The School of General Studies has picked up on Alvins’ story and is now planning to use it in application materials. A representative from the school said “We’re just so proud to finally have one that infiltrated the ranks of the other undergrads. Normally, our students are dismissed right away because, well, they’re old as shit. But Jeffrey has shown that with enough determination, and by avoiding abortion discussions, , our students can be right at home here on campus.” GS has been trying to push their students into the general dorm system for years and hopes that Alvins’ story will be enough to “put to bed these sexual assault concerns.” Clearly, they still have no idea what they are doing.
“I have a reputation to maintain here,” explained the college sophomore with only a few close friends and zero name recognition whatsoever. “When people talk to me, they don’t just want some witty jokes. They’re expecting some high-brow political commentary to go along with the humor. And one day, I know there will be just enough of a gap between shootings for me to squeeze it in.” As of press time, Bernard had decided to throw caution to the wind and finally tell the joke to a friend, Connor Wilson, SEAS ’21, who confirmed that it was not as offensive as he had anticipated. “To be honest, it was actually kind of tame,” explained Wilson. “I bet he could tell it to most people without a problem. Too bad it wasn’t funny.”
'Tis the Season... Undergraduate alcohol use is at an all time high; applications are not.
PEER PRESSURE IS A GIFT
CAVA needs your HELP! Come to an Info Session e
Alcohol and FREE ambulance rides provided! Graphic by Jonathan McClement
YOU WANT BLACK OR PINTO?
John Jay Dining Director Admits He's In the Pocket of Big Bean
By MIMI EVANS
She Who Smelt It John Jay Dining Hall has served beans every single day, without fail, since early 2015. The Federalist launched a special investigative report to uncover the motives behind this unfailing bean production. What we discovered is corruption that reaches the very bowels of the campus dining administration. Ralph Portero, Director of John Jay Dining Hall, is in the pocket of Big Bean. Big Bean, also known as the “Big Three”, is the lobbying arm of the world’s three largest bean companies: Bush’s, Goya’s, and Old El Paso. In exchange for significant financial kickbacks, Portero has placed a bean dish on John Jay’s menu for 492 consecutive dining days. When The Fed first questioned
Portero about the frequency of bean service at John Jay, the Director merely spouted talking points. “We serve beans every day because Columbia students enjoy eating them. After a long day of classes, there’s nothing quite like a hearty pinto or black bean.” Unconvinced, The Fed placed a hidden camera in Portero’s office. Later that week, the camera captured damning footage. In the clip, Jim Ethier, current CEO of Bush’s, is sitting directly across from Portero. It’s clear that the two men have just concluded a serious negotiation. From his briefcase, Ethier retrieves a can opener and two spoons. He deftly unseals two cans of Bush’s Original Baked Beans. The men then toast each other before heartily slurping up their bean slop. After the footage leaked, Portero continued to deny that the meeting
even took place. Ethier, however, was much more willing to spill the beans. “Yes, I did meet with Ralph, and we did discuss an overall branding deal for the next five years. That’s standard practice in the campus dining industry. If we can hook students when they’re young, we can create bean fiends for life.” However, Ethier’s affable demeanor faded as soon as he was confronted with arguments from campus nutrition activists: prolonged bean usage cause severe digestive issues; bean consumption disproportionately affects the poor and minorities; and, most frighteningly of all, beans aren’t even that good. “Look sweetheart, this is just how the world works,” said Ethier, cracking under pressure, “You think Columbia would have been voted the ‘Best College For Food’ without the help of Big
Previously Politically Oppressed Student from Mississippi Breaks Fingers After Snapping Too Much STEPS OF LOW LIBRARY -- It it,” said Thorpe. is no secret that Columbia’s student “Columbia is the first place body is left-leaning, and this fact where I’ve been free to express may put off some students from my views. The system of snapping the South. However, na"MA AND PA NEVER tive Mississippian Emmett Thorpe CC’22 has never 'LLOWED ME TO SNAP MY been more excited to be FINGERS BACK ON THE in a progressive environment. In his conservative RANCH, SO I FIGURED, hometown of Vicksburg, Y'KNOW WHAT, IMMA Mississippi, Thorpe was SNAP 'TIL MY FINGERS always the odd liberal out. BREAK “People used to shove me into lockers for es- -EMMETT BUCKWHEAT pousing basic ideals of THORPE VIII equality and human rights. Nobody wanted to hear my thoughts on climate loudly in agreement with other change or my treatises on social people’s radical statements? Gejustice. And Free Palestine? Forget nius. The only problem is that I
agree so much with every other progressive at this school that I have to snap every thirty seconds. I developed carpal tunnel a month into University Writing: Gender and Sexuality Studies.” Thorpe’s fingers finally gave out, breaking last week in the middle of ADP Open Mic Night. Doctors speculate that significant damage was also incurred during his favorite class, Literature and Intersectional Feminism. Thorpe’s case is just the latest in a string of snapping-related ailments on Columbia’s campus. Just last week, seven students were hauled out of a poetry slam on stretchers after breaking their fingers during a particularly moving poem about immigration.
CARPAL TUNNEL IS A REAL THREAT
Bean Money? This university is full of beans, and I own all of them.” Faced with mounting pressure from higher-ups, Portero sent a campus-wide announcement just before The Fed was set to publish the exposé: “I want to be forthright. Yes, as Dining Director of John Jay, I made a deal with Big Bean, just like Ferris signed exclusivity agreements with Inedible Broccoli and Lukewarm Yogurt. But, I made this decision with the students’ best interests at heart. I never intended to hurt anyone, and I am deeply sorry for all the sorrow and gastrointestinal pain I might have caused.” Portero then promised to reflect on his actions, and “introduce more transparency to future dining deals”. Unfortunately, most anti-bean activists think he’s full of hot air.
FOR SALE Cemetary Plot. Desirable Location. Available Immediately. Grave Never Filled!
WE GET IT, IT'S FUCKING FREEZING
Mouth to Mouth from CAVA and Other Ways to Get Physical Contact During the Colder Months By THE FEDITORIALBOARD
Longing for your touch 1. Mouth to Mouth from CAVA That paramedic you’ve been eyeing lecherously on your way back from Mel’s each friday night? Just chug a full handle of Voda and they’ll be on you like white on rice. 2. Stroking the Ferris employees’ hand as you give them your ID. You’d be surprised how much they want it too. 3. Block the left door of Hamilton with your fat, shitty body. All those freshies leaving Lit Hum. The Slavic studies majors shuffling along. Catch their body heat, limited as it may be due to the rampant anemia. Let it nourish you. Feast on it.
4. Give blood. Feel the life drain from you as you stare into the dreamy eyes of your practitioner. They’re inside you, and they’re as acutely aware of that fact as you are.
7. Call the RA on Duty.
5. Stand in the middle of Ferris at 7 PM on Monday. Nothing like the sweet nectar of the unwashed masses brushing up against you NON-STOP. You’ll be more intimate with the scrawny math major ahead of you in the soup line than you’ve probably been with any other human being anyways.
8. Go to office hours with “that” TA.
6. Befriend the racoons in Riverside. These little furry friends won’t judge your friday night plans. And in case you needed another incentive, cases of rabies are at an all-time low!
They’re legally required to at least give you a hug or something if you show up crying. Maybe more if you’re really upset.
You know the one. The further away any deadlines are, the fewer people will be there, if you catch my drift. 9. Come to a Federalist meeting. Bonus points if you show up in your birthday suit.
11. Lead a Columbia admissions tour. I’ll help you get in, if you’ll help me. 12. Conserve water by sharing showers with your roommates. It’s not weird if it’s good for the environment. 13. Embrace the invisible hand of the market. You supply, they demand
10. Feel the residual warmth of a recently used Dodge elliptical.
14. Reveal concerning emotional trauma in a creative writing workshop and then cry into your professor’s arms.
Inhale in ecstasy as a token of appreciation before they walk away.
I named the protagonist after myself so you’d notice.
Op-Ed: Greg, Please Stop Wearing Shorts. It's 40 Degrees Out. By JULIA SCHREDER Sensibly parka'd
at anymore. It’s time for you to throw Greg, let me just give it to you in the towel and to put on some godstraight. No one wants to see your damn pants. skinny little white Yes, Greg, I am "WE TOLERATED THE singling you out. legs protruding from your Cham- AFFRONT IN AUGUST AND You have many great pion brand athletic qualities, but knowSEPTEMBER, BUT NOW ing when to stop is shorts that your THAT WE CAN VISIBLY not one of them. So, mom bought you in the 10th grade SEE THE GOOSEBUMPS ON this is an intervenat this point in the tion. You need to YOUR PASTY SKIN, WE’VE start wearing pants year. We tolerated the affront in DECIDED THAT YOUR LEGS because people are August and Sepstarting to think that ARE JUST FAR TOO GROSS you’re weird, and I tember, but now TO LOOK AT ANYMORE.” can’t be associated that we can visibly see the goosebumps with that right now. on your pasty skin, we’ve decided that I’m at a really vulnerable social place your legs are just far too gross to look where I’ve almost established a friend
group, but if I’m seen hanging out with and basketball shorts. Not only are someone who’s still wearing shorts in you jeopardizing my social standing October, well, it could all be over just and your own health, but you just look like that. And then I’ll be stuck with plain ridiculous. Good luck getting you and your fucking legs. laid while your aesthetic can only be Don’t get me wrong, I like you, described as “scrawny chicken.” Greg. We’ve we understand "IT’S TIME FOR YOU TO Look, had some good that where you’re from, laughs — remem- THROW IN THE TOWEL exposing your bare skin ber when you to the frigid Iowan air AND PUT ON SOME threw up in your in the middle of winter GODDAMN PANTS.” suite-mate’s shoe? is a sign of virility and But if you ruin my chance to become strength. But, so is drunkenly tipping friends with Paul McCartney’s nephew, over cows and plowing your tractor it won’t be hypothermia that kills you. into your neighbor’s barn. Clearly, It will be me. some traditions are best left to the Also, don’t you realize how dumb corn fields. Wearing shorts in late-Ocyou look? It’s 40-degrees out, and there tober should be one of them. you are wearing an oversized t-shirt
CLASSIC GREG
STAY
Graphic by Julia Basnage
THANKFUL
MENTAL MALFUNCTIONS
Discrimination on Campus: My Professor Failed Me Just Because I'm An Idiot By FED STAFF Idiot Pride HAMILTON--In a blatant act of discrimination on campus, complete fool Matt Lerner CC ’22 received a failing grade in Frontiers of Science for nothing besides completely misunderstanding all of the course material. In response to being arbitrarily failed despite scoring less than 20% on every exam, Lerner began the process of bringing a lawsuit against Columbia University. “From an early age, I knew I would go to Columbia. I can’t put my finger on it--maybe it was the beautiful campus, or the diverse student body, or even the exciting athletics--but something about the school just called my name, said Lerner. When asked if he had a personal connection to Columbia--specifically to any buildings on campus--he de-
clined to comment. ard,” said his Frontiers professor, Theo“Now that I am here, though I’ve dore Bartleby, “I’ve never seen someone faced unspeakable acts of discrimina- with such an utter lack of comprehention. So far, my below-average intelli- sion of every single piece of course gence, glossy hair, and AmEx Black in material. I gave him a two percent on my father’s name have the final since he SO FAR, MY BELOWbeen enough to carwas able to write ry me through life. AVERAGE INTELLIGENCE, his name with only I mean, they got me misspellGLOSSY HAIR, AND AMEX minor into this school. But ings.” my professors aren’t BLACK IN MY FATHER'S Matt’s family is buying it. For some NAME HAVE BEEN ENOUGH suing Columbia reason, Rashid Khalfor what they deidi wouldn’t accept a TO CARRY ME THROUGH scribe as “blatant crisp check from my idiotphobia”. “I LIFE. father in place of my think it’s frankly History of the Modern Middle East fi- unjust how these academics look down nal paper.” on those not lucky enough to be blessed “Frankly, Matt exhibits stupidity so with the ability to tie their own shoes,” profound as to be a public health haz- Sarah Lerner, Matt’s mother, told the
Federalist. “My Matt can’t help being too dumb to live, and I don’t think he should be penalized for being born a certain way.” The Lerner family lawyer, Michael Rosenberg, refused to submit a statement but commented he usually represents clients with slightly higher IQs. The Admissions office was contacted for details regarding Lerner’s original admission to the school, but they declined to comment. President Bollinger, however, issued this statement: “Listen, we could stop the matriculation of legacies, but we have to try to keep up with the other Ivies.” As of press time, Bollinger was seen leaving his Low office, gently caressing a bag of money labelled “Lerner’s Tuition”.
Did I Blackout or Am I Just Forgetful? By AMELIA FAY
Wino COMMUNITY FOOD & JUICE— As I listened to my friends discuss the previous night’s events over sunnyside-up eggs and black coffee, I realized that I could not recall a single thing they were talking about. After unsuccessfully straining my mind to remember what I had done the night before, I was forced to accept the fact that I had absolutely no recollection of what happened. When I explained my dilemma to my friends, they were eager to help me piece together a timeline of the night. My friend Kaley Mamo, CC ’22, was the first to speak up. “You came over at around 10:45 p.m. and we hung out for an hour,” she said. As soon as Kaley mentioned this, I distinctly remembered walking down the hall and knocking on her door, but not much more than that. “Well,” she said, “you were drinking a Nalgene filled to the brim with something that smelled like propane, but I’m not one to judge.” My friend Nina Taneja, CC ’22, in-
terrupted to say that, although I might several times “double-fisting margarhave been “on a mission to destroy itas.” Seeing as I had reached a dead my liver,” I was surprisingly coherent. end, I decided to examine my texts in “There’s no way you blacked out,” she search of any possible clues. said, “You and Kaley were discussing Luckily, I found a message Plato’s Symposium like from my friend NINA AND KALEY two of the most gifted Kasey Fung, Shmoop-users I’ve ever CC’22, asking COULDN'T SEEM TO met. You even wrote an meet at KorREMEMBER MUCH FROM to entire study guide!” onet. I reached THE HEIGHTS EITHER, out to Kasey for According to Nina and Kaley we made it the details. “We EXCEPT THAT THEY to the Heights at 12:30 got there at 1:30 SAW ME FROM ACROSS a.m.,” she said, a.m., which I found hard to believe because “and I watched THE ROOM SEVERAL we never feel athletic down an enTIMES "DOUBLE-FISTING you enough to climb those tire jumbo slice MARGARITAS". Everest-like stairs. “We like it was nothwent in together,” said ing. Actually, it Kaley. “I distinctly remember because was kind of gross.” Kasey said that I the bouncer laughed and showed your was “in the matrix” during our time at fake to his friend but let you in any- Koronet. “To be honest,” she told me, ways.” “it dawned on me several times to call Nina and Kaley couldn’t seem to re- CAVA but I didn’t want to go through member much from the Heights, except the trouble of dialing all those numthat they saw me from across the room bers. Whatever, you lived!”
YEAH YOU BLACKED OUT
As Kasey claimed we got back to Carman around 2:00 a.m., I decided to follow up with my roommate Raya Tarawneh, CC’22, to get the final piece of the puzzle. When I asked her about last night, Raya said, “You kept asking me about what my life was like back in Minnesota. Amelia, when I told you I was from Jordan, I meant the country!” When I asked her if she thought my below-average intellect was due to me being blackout drunk, she replied, “Could be. Or maybe you’re just a dumb fucker around the clock.” So, in conclusion, it is safe to say that I now have at least a rough outline of last night’s events. But the situation remains murky. Did I actually black out, or do I just have the memory retention abilities of a baboon? While Kasey maintains that I “had shot my soul into the ether,” Raya is leaning towards the belief that I am just a “genuinely stupid person who is also prone to transient global amnesia.”
Sexiled in the City By ANNIE IEZZI
Orphan Once upon this NSOP, a (hopeful) journalism major came to New York City on a greyhound bus. Bright eyed and bushily ponytailed, Carrie, CC 2022, killed it at the Welcome Week parties and hooked up with one of the city’s typically eligible bachelors. Jake was an Upper East Sider with a declared major in history and an “in” at Goldman in case he couldn’t get a job after graduation. They met one evening in typical New York fashion, at the Project X eighteen plus dance party, which Jake was attending for the third year in a row. It was love at first sight. However, as Carrie’s roommate, Charlotte, describes it, Carrie fell in
love at first grind every night of NSOP, and every weekend and occasional Thursday night since. “I mean, I’m very socially progressive and pro-sex and everything,” Charlotte explains, “but come on, I need to get into my room sometimes to change my shirt or take my gummy vitamins. This is getting ridiculous.” After several unsuccessful attempts to rectify her constant sexile with her roommate, including having an honest discussion and later slipping Carrie libido suppressants, Charlotte decided to put her time in sexile to good use and explore New York. “Well, first I wanted to see what all this ‘Barnard’ stuff is about,” Charlotte explains about her recent excursion. “They live right across the street, but what are they? Columbia students?
CAMPUS ROMANTICS
Women’s college students? Condensed balls of hyper-feminist black matter?” Her trip quickly went south, however, when a group of Barnard students in Brandy Melville pants tried to indoctrinate her by chopping off her hair. By the time she earned her freedom, Charlotte was too exhausted to continue with her sexploration of the big apple, so she returned to campus and slept in the Butler stacks. Later in the weekend, Charlotte made the mistake of leaving her Carman double without a snack to sustain her while she watched Netflix at the library so Carrie could get it on. On her way to explore the “Duane Reade” superstore that everyone on her floor kept talking about, she was waylaid at Mondel Chocolates by
their arresting window display. “They managed to make a storefront on Broadway look like it exists after New York has been abandoned to slide into the ocean.” Carrie says that a quick trip inside confirmed her hypothesis, but that now she sometimes gets the munchies only Mondel’s can satiate. Charlotte has agreed to keep the Fed updated on if Carrie, too, can be satiated by the delicious taste of a postapocalyptic chocolate. Until then, she plans to use her sexile to visit the cool college bar she heard about, 1020, and maybe even venture lower than 100th street if the next sexile lasts longer than 6 hours.
Report: Milstein decorated solely with rejected iCarly set pieces By ELIZABETH BAILEY
Spaghetti Taco Consumer Through an Innovative partnership with Nickelodeon, Milstein Center for Teaching and Learning decorated solely with rejected iCarly Set Pieces. The Cheryl and Philip Milstein Center for Teaching and Learning serves as a new academic hub in the heart of the Barnard College campus. A 128,000 square foot facility designed by the award winning architecture firm Skidmore, Owings, & Merrill, will feature a range of flexible learning centers, a zine and coloring book library. We sat down with Carrie Moore, the Design and Documentation Senior Technical Designer for the construction project to get a perspective on the planning process for the building. “Well, when Barnard assembled the team of people to work on this project, they told us they wanted this building to “embody the culture of intellectual collaboration and interdisciplinary interchange that defines Barnard College.” Nobody ac-
tually knew what that meant, so we just decided to equip each classroom with six large flat screen tv’s, but this proved to quickly deplete our $70 million budget. Through an innovative partnership with Nickelodeon, we were able to decorate the entire building for free, using solely rejected set pieces from the 2007 sitcom, iCarly. All of the chairs, tables, lighting fixtures, and turnstiles were obtained through this partnership, and the remaining visual aspects of the building were placed with this aesthetic in mind. “I really feel like this design choice will make students feel at home as they spend hours upon hours wasting away over schoolwork, longing for a simpler time, when the only thing any of us were worried about was if Freddie and Sam were going to get together or what.” Other features of the Center include: • Several shelves of different books that are all titled “being a woman” • A zine and coloring book library • Water Bottle filler-upper stations that will mist your entire arm and shoes if you attempt to use it
• • •
An underground tunnel that leads to an inescapable labyrinth Greenspace terraces have weird plants that you can’t step on A “mindfulness zone” equipped with yoga mats and prayer rugs behind the stairs because we couldn’t figure out what else to
ON THE REAL THOUGH: DRAKE OR JOSH?
•
do with the space and now we seem more tolerant of religions such as yoga A Peet’s Coffee, closed on weekends, but otherwise has an ever present line wrapping around the main floor.
GOT BUD?
Self-Styled "Stoner" Paying $40 For a Gram By FED STAFF We Prefer Coke TBH Michael Thompson, CC ‘22, of Short Hills, New Jersey described himself last Thursday night as a “total fucking stoner” to onlookers in his Carman suite. Amidst a backdrop of Bob Marley posters and lava lamps, the first-year student from an affluent county in Northern New Jersey told various UWriting peers and suitemates that he “has the hook-up, so don’t even trip, dawg.” Thompson had apparently procured one gram of dried marijuana flower, which he packed into his Illadelph bong and passed around to an assortment of associates he had met in the past four months. “Yeah, I take NJ Transit to the city every weekend, so I’m like basically from the city. I just picked this shit up
from my boy, Snake. He’s like a Bosnian arms dealer or some shit. He got tight ass kicks and he hooks me up with fat nugs for $40 a pop,” he said while pumping his fist to Chief Keef. Several Barnard girls whom Thompson’s friend had signed in were seen texting their older brothers and asking how much a gram of weed costs. Federalist reporters succeeded in tracking down Thompson’s dealer to the corner in front of the 110th Rite Aid. “Snake”, a large blonde man wearing a durag and a 2pac t-shirt with “SNAKE” scrawled on the front, denied having ever met a Mr. Thompson. “Yeah, I sell coke, ket, ecstasy…. I sell poppers. I sell drugs, but I wouldn’t sell to that pussy. I been handing him bags of oregano every time.” Mr. Snake then
received a phone call and proceeded to jump into a white, straight-piped Honda without a license plate. Thompson confirmed that while “rippin’ the reefer” is a key part of his social life, he also uses marijuana for legitimate medical purposes, such as insomnia. “Yeah, back in high school I had real trouble getting to sleep after band practice, so a few fat rips off a j would always help, especially if my mom was out of Benadryl.” “But now that I’m in college, I’m up all night anyway. So these days, I only buy the best high-energy sativa’s,” said the 18 year old currently using his parents’ money to buy a small ziplock baggie of mostly seeds and stems.
Thomson has continued to try and spread his love for marijuana to his freshman peers, to mixed results. “You tryna face some fat hydroponic after class?” Thompson asked during a break in his Lt Hum class, speaking to several nonplussed classmates who just wanted to pee. While Thomson is vocal about his marijuana use, he has bravely insisted that it is his duty to inform others about the magical plant. “I truly believe that marijuana has the power to solve the world’s problem. What kind of advocate for social justice would I be if I didn’t speak up?” said Thomson. “Besides, since when has a middle-class white guy been arrested for smoking weed?”
Graphic by Gil Levitan
I THOUGHT THE TAR WAS PART OF THE APPEAL
AWKWARD ELEVATOR ENCOUNTERS
Re: Carlton Arms Op-Ed: Falling into the I'm Not Hudson River High, I Just Have Shampoo in My Eye By Julia Schreder
Proud McBain Resident
By Gustie Owens
"I prefer alcohol" I got in the elevator this morning, and a stranger in a drug rug looked at me and said, “Duuude, nice.” He mimicked raising a doobie to his lips and taking a long rip. At first, I thought he was pretending to nosh on a pretzel rod. But I guess it was supposed to be marijuana. No, I do not indulge in the devil’s lettuce. It was 10:15 AM. I have smoked the good kush but once, and it was culturally appropriate, as I was on a family vacation to Istanbul. I do not smoke. I only “pull up” to Riverside Park when I need more leaves to make laminated bookmarks.
"I HAVE SMOKED THE DEVIL'S KUSH BUT ONCE, AND IT WAS CULTURALLY APPROPRIATE, AS I WAS ON A FAMILY VACATION TO ISTANBUL."
My eyes are always red in the morning, after my shower and daily shampoo scrubbing regimen. I’ve struggled with this my whole life. As a result, it is extremely difficult to make friends. In elementary school, everyone’s parents thought I had pink eye and would not set up playdates with me. I wasn’t allowed to use the classroom blankets during nap time; I had to lie on paper towels I got from the bathroom. Last week, I tried not shampooing. Someone thought I was an athlete and asked me to go their intramural sports game. I am not an athlete; I am not high; I just want to be understood. So next time you see someone with red eyes, do not high five them. Think about my story. They could literally be squeaky clean with a little bit of suds in their eyes.
Dear Students, I’m writing to you today to convey some deeply troubling news: Carlton Arms fell into the Hudson River three weeks ago, and not one of you little shits noticed. To reiterate: one of Columbia’s dorms came loose, carved a swath through Riverside Park and slid into the Hudson, taking 40 honestly perfectly decent transfer students with it, and no one said or did a goddamn thing. We here at Housing really aren’t sure what concerns us most. We know some will ask how our buildings are so structurally unsound that one could just fall into a river several blocks away . We know others will ask, perhaps hopefully, if McBain will be next. But I think the real failure here is not on the part of our structural engineers, but on yours, you heartless bastards. Obviously, when Carlton went under we expected some blowback from the administration and the parents of the students who lived in the dorm, but we didn’t get a single call or email. We were totally ready for our Spec exposé – I even practiced my crying for sympathy points – but we didn’t get any requests for interviews or anything at all. At the very least, we thought that we’d get some complaints from the residents, but they actually seemed to be enjoying the fact that we’ve temporarily stuck them on the Manhattanville campus because, “my friends know how to find me now!.” Three weeks went by, and not a word from anyone. Just yesterday I received an email from President Bollinger telling me to, “keep up the great work!” Then we got to wondering, are the people at this university really so oblivious that they didn’t notice an entire building disappear? Are the students so self-obsessed that they didn’t know 200 of their peers are currently camping out on the floor of the Manhattanville campus like a bunch of refugees? Is Riverside Drive so godforsaken that not a single person has walked past the empty space that used to hold Carlton Arms and thought, “Hmm, something isn’t quite right”? It’s more than a little unnerving. So I decided to do something, and that’s why I’m sending you this email. I know that it will only draw attention to what happened, and will probably cost me my job. But someone had to tell you all to get your heads out of your asses and become a little more self-aware. While of course, we recognize that we, Columbia Housing, are totally at fault here, at least we noticed that a building fell into the Hudson River. Stunned by your total lack of empathy, Joyce Jackson Executive Director, Columbia Housing
WET AND HIGH
I REALLY DON'T CARE, DO U?
Breaking: Club No One has Heard of Makes No Tangible Difference
BY MALIA SIMON
Closet FWIDO member The hustle-and-bustle of the fall season has swung many on-campus clubs into their impact-making gear. According to just one of many ambitious student-run organizations, their renewed unique goal this year is to “really make a difference.” However, Federalist reporters have caught wind of one club that has not honored this sentiment and is, in fact, making no difference at all. The club goes by the name FWIDO, an acronym which spawned serious annoyance. While passing by their table at the club fair an extremely long time ago, one student was overheard saying: “FWIDO Club? What does that even stand for? Fucking Weird Idiots Doing the Olson twins?”
In Stunning Display of Campus-Wide Camaraderie, CU Community Collectively Agrees to Give Zero Fucks About Football Team
Further investigation into this student’s question led reporters to discover no other hypotheses about the club’s full name. Other students, when interviewed about FWIDO, responded with such sentiments as: “I’ve never heard of that,” and “Is that like NAFTA?” FWIDO president Jonas Johnson claims campus-wide unawareness of his club is due to jealousy of his awesome group. He clarified the club’s similarly awesome purpose, which he insists exists. “It’s about being a group and getting together and just getting stuff done. It’s a great social networking opportunity,” Johnson tried to convince us while eating a Belvita cookie.
Some of the club’s activities include sitting in a circle and writing personal identities down in notebooks, group-writing provocative Spec Op Eds about why students should get more sleep or why mental health is actually hella important, and using the word gentrification a lot. Also sometimes the club members fling their identity notebooks into the Hudson River in a sudden surge of metaphorical empowerment. After hearing about all these abjectly useless activities, Fed reporters were only left wondering where the Olson Twins came into play. But when questioned about the all-elusive acronym, Johnson opted not to respond because he didn’t know the answer. Federalist reporters were alternatively offered a sticker.
PrezBo Begins Negotiations with the Cockroach Union
By AMEY PASARKAR Didn't even go to Homecoming
BAKER ATHLETIC COMPLEX -- In an extraordinary turn of events, the entire Columbia community travelled to the Baker Athletic Complex on Homecoming to announce their historic agreement: Zero fucks will be given about the football team. Many had doubted if this agreement would even be approved after a football season that had nearly captured the interest of the student body. Following the announcement, the stands were vacated before the game started. “There seems to be this notion that Columbia has no sense of school spirit or community,” explained the Columbia College Student Council in a memo to the student body, “but what we accomplished on Saturday proves otherwise. We were able to show the world that the entire campus has an unbreakable bond that would not be disturbed by any success the football team might have.” In solidarity with this decision, Columbia Spectator issued pink slips to all members in their sports department. At press time, campus leaders were seen preparing an extension to the agreement that would remove all fucks that are given about any Columbia sports teams. Graphic by Mai Morsy
IS THE FOOTBALL TEAM A CLUB?
DOMESTIC ANOMALIES
“Ope, Let Me Slip By Ya There,” Says Midwestern Student Stealing Your Ferris Table By ISOBEL SHAFFER
Liberal Coastal Elite
Hailing from St. Cloud, Minnesota, Wilson back once. They ended up dating for 7 months.” FERRIS — Proudly wearing khaki shorts and proceeded to sit down and tell his coastal friends Wilson’s former Lit Hum professor weighed in. a Vikings t-shirt despite the 47 degree weather, “how darn freezing it was back home.” Pulling “Yeah, he used to bring me a literal apple every Mike Wilson, CC ‘20, absolutely sniped the one up the weather app on his iPhone 6, he showed Thursday. Pretty sure he was stealing them from free table left in Ferris’s upper level at 1:00 p.m. this his friends the temperature in his hometown: Blue Java in Butler. I was just grateful, though, when Wednesday “Look, it was -10 degrees he stopped showing up with a slate and chalk to take afternoon. "FERRIS SURE GETS REAL FULL, Fa hren heit notes on. “Ope, sorlast night. "YOU’D THINK AFTER THREE M a n , ry!” he was was that DONTCHA KNOW! BUT AT Negative ten YEARS HERE, HE’D NOTICE heard exdegrees!!” thing c l a i m i n g LEAST THEY HAVE ALL THESE Wilson THAT NOBODY EVER WAVES loud!” as he slung has been FLAVORS OF POP!" his black spotted BACK.” North Face many times onto the waving hello chair. With an open-hearted, childlike smile, to strangers on Broadway. Says his roommate, On his way out of Ferris, Wilson reportedWilson remarked, “Ferris sure gets real full, don- Jake Greenberg CC `20 (born and raised in ly stopped to warmly thank Fausta as he shoved tcha know? But at least they have all these flavors Scarsdale), “You’d think after three years here, a handful of starlight mints into his backpack. of pop.” He proceeded to select cherry-vanilla he’d notice that nobody ever waves back. Well, “Waste not, want not!” he said, oblivious to the line flavored ginger ale. no, there was that girl from Nebraska who waved growing twofold every second.
Report: Yep, That’s a Cockroach By JULIAN PECHT
HELP ME
your closet, under your pillow, probably climbing into your mouth WIEN--Jeez, yeah, your eyes didn’t deceive you.. That was defi- as you sleep. You might as well make peace with it now, maybe benitely a cockroach. Yikes. friend them, get to know them. Sure, the lights were off, and it was hard to clearly see exactly what I bet they’re really nice, even if they look like something out of creature was sauntering across Lovecraft’s own nightmares. But hey, your floor as you came back from "I WOULDN’T BE SURPRISED IF YOU don’t judge a cockroach by its shell. a late-night bathroom trip, but can’t be worse than your roomSEE A WHOLE LITTER OF ROACHES They don’t kid yourself. You know, deep mate, right? At least they don’t snore... down, that the nastiest looking BEING TENDERLY NURSED BY THEIR Just think of it like a pet, I guess. bug to ever shame Mother Nature Put out a bowl of water, maybe some ROACH MOTHER.” is now somewhere in your room. leftover scraps of--oh Christ did it just There’s probably more. Mayfly? Can it do that? Kill it. Jesus, kill it. be a whole colony. I wouldn’t be surprised if you see a whole litter KILL IT! KILL THE DAMN THING ALREADY! of roaches being tenderly nursed by their roach mother. They’re in FUCK THE LIONS. “COLUMBIA COCKROACHES” HERE WE COME!
Graphic by Will Barker