September 19, 2014

From “Talk Like A Pirate Day Tips” by William “Black Bill” Cubbins IV

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William “Black Bill” Cubbins IV, our regular commentator on pirate affairs, is pirate-in-residence at the University of Plunder Bay as well as executive director of UPB’s William Kidd Center for the Study of Pirate Culture. A devout pirate, his most recent prize was a Chinese junk full of junk food bound for snooty Californian importers.

Ahoy me hearties. On this, the most visible day for pirate culture, I’d like to issue a call to reason. Talk Like A Pirate Day is an opportunity to engage with pirate culture, but also an occasion for flouting hurtful pirate stereotypes. I’d like to share these simple tips with you:

-Remember, pirates are a culture, not a costume. It is never okay to dress as a pirate or, god forbid, a “sexy pirate” unless you identify with pirate culture.

-Slurs like ass pirate or widely discredited defamatory texts like Protocols of the Elder Pirates are never something that a pirate would use in daily conversation. Terms like buccanner or corsair are still controversial; the one thing everyone agrees on is that only pirates can decide when they are appropriate and that only pirates should use them.

-Pirates have many dialects. Try speaking the South China Sea or the Horn of Africa dialects of pirate to help educate people on our diversity and rich cultural heritage.

-Keep in mind the many pirates killed or wounded by vicious ninja attacks during this summer’s tragic Battle of Kagishuma Shrine Island. There are still many places in the world where ninjas actively seek the extermination of us and our way of life.

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September 16, 2014

From “Announceritis” by Austin Corinne

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11:47 pm: “Attention arriving Columbia Airlines Flight 1337 passengers: if you are the owner of a large suitcase full of powerful hallucinogens, please see the red bird with a handlebar mustache at gate A1 to reclaim your property.”

12:02 am: “Attention Columbia Airlines Flight 1066 passengers: there has been a gate change. Your flight is now departing from Gate π-x in Terminal β. I repeat, Columbia Airlines Flight 1066 is now departing from Gate π-x in Terminal β.”

12:36 am: “A reminder to all passengers from the Hopewell Tri-County Airport: The terminal is a tobacco-free building and no firearms are permitted. So don’t let us catch you with a smoking gun, or things will get really bad.”

1:45 am: “The Hopewell Tri-County Airport rental counters will be closing in 15 minutes. Anyone who has been living on borrowed time is hereby requested to return it or be charged for an extra day.”

“That’s Sean for you,” said one of the baggage handlers, shaking his head. “It’s a good thing the boss goes home at 5, or he’d have been fired years ago. What do you suppose he’s on tonight? The sauce? The dope?”

“What isn’t he on is more like it,” his co-worker sighed. “Makes the late shift a little more colorful, at least.”

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September 15, 2014

From “Jokes Which Only Work In Print, 18th ed.” edited by “Wry” Ron Pilkinton

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Did you hear the one about John Occam?

No, what about him?

After he got divorced, his wife sued him for parsimony.

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September 13, 2014

From “The University of Northern Mississippi Season Opener” by Jacelyn “Bali Mojo” Marina

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CARL: This is Carl Drake, play-by-play commentator for NBS Broadcasting, coming at you live from the NBS College Sports Channel’s telecast of the University of Northern Mississippi’s season opener against New Orleans State University.

TOM: That’s right, Carl. This is Tom Hicks, color commentator for NBS Broadcasting, banished along with my co-commentator to the risible National College Sports Association sports circuit as a punishment for our transgressions against our corporate overlords.

CARL: I wouldn’t call it risible, Tom. At least everyone on the field today is passionate, and some of the athletes might avoid major injury long enough to become second-string players on a minor Continental Football League team with strictly regional appeal.

TOM: That’s right, Carl, I should be grateful that they didn’t stick us back on the high school athletics scene. And the sight of those indentured athletes, playing without compensation so that their universities and the NCSA can reap profits not seen since the days of Crassus the Triumvir.

CARL: It’s of special note today that this is the first season that UNM is playing with its new mascot and team name, the UNM Fighting Abolitionists. You can see Johnny Freesoil the Fighting Abolitionist on the field now, capering about in an attempt to drown out the jeers thrown at him by an unresponsive crowd.

TOM: That’s right, Carl. The UNM team was previously known as the Raiders, with Johnny Raider as their swashbuckling mascot. But the name and mascot both engendered controversy, largely because they were thought to be named after Hextrill’s Raiders, a notorious band of Confederate partisans and bushwhackers who fought the Union along the Tennessee-Mississippi border.

CARL: You sound somewhat dismissive of that, Tom. I don’t have to remind you that Johnny Raider was a Confederate cavalryman in fully butternut grey dress with saber and pistol–an anachronism, as Hextrill’s men never worse uniforms–who routinely chased a caricature of Philip Sheridan off the field–another anachronism, as Sheridan fought solely in the Eastern theater of the war.

TOM: That’s right, Carl. While I don’t deny that the old name and especially the old mascot weren’t in the best taste, in their haste to mollify everyone they managed to come up with a name and mascot that strike even this card-carrying Democrat as cloying. Better for them to ape the University of Michigan to become the Fighting Letter Ms.

CARL: Fair, enough, Tom, fair enough. What do you say we talk a bit about the game? It looks like someone just made a touchdown or something.

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September 11, 2014

From “The 302nd Fighting Unicorn Division” by R. G. Lemure

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“Now this critter,” Spinelli said, “is a much, much nastier than a Mana Cricket. It’s perhaps the most dangerous magical insect from the order Orthoptera.”

“Are…are you sure about this?” said Gibbons. “I still have bruises from that defanged ghast after the Mana Crickets…”

“You’ll be fine, soldier,” said Spinelli dismissively. “Say hello to our newest guest.”

He pulled a lid of magic-proof glass off of a nearby tray, revealing a grasshopper that was electric purple with terribly long antennae, at least twice as long as its body. The creature took flight and landed atop Gibbons’ head to her intense displeasure.

“Get it off, get it off, get it off!” she shrieked.

“Wait for it, kids,” said Spinelli. “If you’re going to encounter these in the field, you have to know what they’re capable of.”

Moments later, Gibbons ceased her thrashing and her eyes glazed over, pupils dilated. “Corn,” she said in a monotone. “I must find corn. Barley. Oats. Alfalfa. But mostly corn. Cooorrrnnn.” She began walking unsteadily toward the windows, through which the mess hall was visible with its heaping helpings of corn both creamed and cobbed. She walked directly into the glass, bumping against it and leaving a forehead print. Undeterred, she bumped against it again, and again, still moaning about corn with a purple grasshopper on her coif.

“Wow,” said a recruit. “What did it do to her?”

“That’s the External Locust of Control,” said Spinelli proudly. “It takes over your brain and makes you its puppet to seek food, mostly corn.”

“That’s horrible.”

“Nonsense,” replied Spinelli. “If you think that’s bad, you should see the Internal Locust of Control.”

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September 5, 2014

From “The Cobbler Fence” by Bebe Fent Colcher

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“You have to understand,” said Marie, “it was all just me trying to get these wild kids under control. I told them that if they brought me peaches that I’d make them peach cobbler.”

“Middle school kids can be a little nuts, it’s true,” said Officer Carruthers, clucking his tongue softly. “So they brought you peaches?”

“Yeah, a whole sack,” said Marie. “They ate the cobbler just fine, but then they asked if I could make more if they brought more peaches. They said they wanted to take the cobbler home to their folks.”

The officer raised an eyebrow. “How many did you make?”

“Abut fifty,” Marie said helplessly. “By the end I was teaching them how to make it themselves.”

“And it never occurred to you to ask where the peaches were coming from? You never saw the news stories about Abbott Orchards being repeatedly robbed by unknown perpetrators? About the suddenly thriving trade in petty drug dealers being paid in cobbler?”

“I swear, officer, I had no idea the kids were using me to launder their peaches,” Marie cried. “I thought they were calling me ‘the peach cobbler fence’ as a term of endearment!”

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August 25, 2014

From “The Satiety Games” by Saige Mattsey

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Young Adult Novel
Prep Time: 6-8 months
Total Time: 12-18 months
Allergy Information: Unsuitable for cliché, formula, fanfic, or movie adaptation allergies
Serves: 500,000-1,000,000 copies

Ingredients:
1 15-18 year-old heroine. 1 hero may be substituted at the expense of smaller serving size.

2-3 16-19 year-old love interests. For best results, include at least one smouldering but dumb hunk and one smarter but less attractive dweeb.

4-6 cups special powers as a metaphor for teenagerhood and spoiled exceptionalism. Powers may be magical, the result of accident or alien origin, or Mary Sue prefection, but must be innate.

2-3 cups destiny. Minced archetypes are the traditional form, but passive characters inserted into conspiracies or over whom rivals fight may be substituted to taste.

1-2 hard-boiled antagonists. Add more antagonists to increase serving size; one 16-19 year-old antagonist and one adult to represent clueless grownups who just don’t get teen angst are traditional. Be sure to not include garnishes of character development or motivation, as these will spoil the flavor.

3-5 cups sacrificial quirky sidekicks. Sacrifice may be in the form of death, disfigurement, or simply disappearing, but in all cases must be seasoned heavily with unearned adoration of main heroine.

15-20 ounces new terms for old ideas. The more transparent or obfuscatory, the stronger the flavor.

20-25 hooks for future stories. Endings will spoil the flavor, so use them in the most sparing manner possible. Where practicable, prevent self-contained plot from precipitating during preparation. Hooks should allow for trilogy of subsequent servings, but pentology or septology are increasingly popular options at discretion.

1-2 cups chaste teen love. Precise measurement is essential, as too much or too little will drastically limit serving size. Superficiality and wish-fulfillment are popular garnishes and should be added to taste.

Preparation:
Stale ingredients work best, especially if sourced from organic or free-range young adult novels by other authors. Stir well with limp descriptions and over-abundance of world-building exposition. Book deals and movie contract are popular desserts. Can be made from leftovers of fanfic as a base and emulsifier with the addition of 1-2 cups Name Changes. Ideally served alongside PG-13 Summer Blockbuster souffle, Bad Emo Autotuned Pop Music, and/or First World Problems. Serve cold or lukewarm; allowing to cool and reheating is often preferred.

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August 24, 2014

From “The Mouth of the Chancellor” by Ruth Chloe Colman

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The dread doors of the Administration Building opened and a single figure rode out to meet with the protestors.

“I am the Mouth of the Chancellor of the University of Northern Mississippi.” The creature that stood before them was a man, not an administrator; he had served the Chancellor nearly all of his long life and had learned a great many things about higher education, though he could no longer remember his own name. His raiment was a formal suit, midnight black (down to his shirt and socks), with blood-red lines of the University Code in the Eldertongue etched upon it in place of pinstripes. A dark cummerbund was drapes across his head, obscuring all his features save for his mouth and jowls.

“Speak, then,” said Dawn.

“I bring tidings from the great and powerful Chancellor who, in his wisdom and mercy, has heard your lamentations,” croaked the Mouth. “He bids you return to your dormitories in peace while he considers your grievances.”

“And what assurance do we have that he’ll actually do something?” Dawn said warily.

“Assurances? The great and powerful Chancellor of the University of Northern Mississippi offers none. You must trust in his magnanimity and wisdom, as I do.”

The protestors began to grumble, and several on the wings of the group began to move forward menacingly.

“I am an ambassador and messenger, and as such I may not be assaulted!” cried the Mouth.

“Yes, though where such laws are held, it’s a custom for ambassadors to behave with less bullshittery,” observed Dawn pointedly. “And nobody’s assaulted you. In fact, I think they’re about to skip straight to battery.”

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August 17, 2014

From “University of Northern Mississippi Move-In Guide 2014” by Anonymous

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1. Buy new items for dorms only. Things from thrift stores bear the taint of prior use in their every atom and must be shunned. Ditto things placed on the curb by people moving out–what are you, a hobo?

2. Get yourself in branded school attire as soon as possible. Your parents are paying for you to go to the University of Northern Mississippi, so display your pride in that fact by buying, wearing, UNM gear! If you are a member or hopeful pledge for one of our fraternities or sororities, you may substitute the appropriate Greek letters.

3. Drag as many family members with you into town as possible. Even if Dad is the only one actually helping you move anything, be sure to bring Mom, sisters, brothers, cousins, friends, grandparents, well-wishers, and hangers-on. There is no chance of a parking shortage during move-in, so the extra vehicles and real estate will in no way impede others.

4. Apply for campus jobs, lots of them. There is no way that people hiring have to have their people trained and ready for the first day of class, necessitating weeks of preparation and hiring beforehand. Remember: the university owes you a living, and if a unit you’d like to work for won’t give you a job, be sure to have Mom call them on your behalf.

5. Registering for classes is best done the first week of classes, possibly later. How can you be expected to have a class schedule and up-to-date ID card when school starts? Those whiners at the library, dining hall, and registrar’s office will just have to make like a casino worker and deal.

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August 15, 2014

From “The Tomb of Dr. Edwin McGee, Professor Emeritus” by Meg Weindec

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HOPEWELL, MI – Preparations continue for the final sealing of the tomb prepared for Dr. Edwin McGee, professor emeritus at Southern Michigan University, the retired chair of the History Department, and onetime Dean of the School of Liberal Arts.

In keeping with the prevailing custom, Dr. McGee will be buried alongside objects that he will need in the afterlife. In addition to his personal library of 5000 volumes, he will be sealed in his tomb with 10,000 rolls of microfilm from the Southern Michigan University library in order to provide for any peer-reviewed research he might wish to submit to Osiris on his academic specialization, 19th-century women’s suffrage and temperance movements. Thanks to Dr. McGee’s traditionalism and dislike of electronic resources, a dedicated afterlife computer terminal like the one in Dr. Soderquist’s mastaba will not be necessary.

The Southern Michigan University art department is finalizing a series of murals depicting Dr. McGee’s life, with special emphasis on the submission of his tenure packet to the gods, his restructuring of the HIST 101 curriculum, and his 12 years as editor of the Journal of 19th-Century Populist Social Movements. They have also prepared a Book of the Dead that includes the latest updates to the Chicago Manual of Style and the speculated publication and teaching requirements for tenure in the afterlife.

Dr. McGee will also be interred with his many cats and twelve graduate students, and once his pyramid is sealed it will be guarded 24/7 against tomb raiders, archaeologists, and scoundrels.

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