Samwise Donkenstein’s Preseason Top 5 Feelings About This Year

The 6th Feeling is Swag

It is my own misfortune, and indeed the misfortune of many reading this article, to have (mostly) unwittingly chosen a life of suffering and self-torture. I can’t ask for sympathy, I did this to myself, and I can’t ask most humans to understand my situation; how could you, being either outside the realm of fandom or lucky enough to root for a team by some other name?

I am an invested, devoted, fervent fan of the Northwestern Wildcats, and only a select few people to have ever walked this Earth truly know what that is like.

“OMG Study Abroad was SOOOO Life Changing!” Reports Annoying Douchebag

Douche Croissants

EVANSTON–After returning from a 5-month study abroad program located in Paris, France, Sally Peterson (Weinberg ’14) reportedly spent the next month and a half being an annoying prick about how life-changing the experience was.

Those who have spoken to Peterson since she returned have said that she “literally will not shut the fuck up about study abroad and how cultured she is.”

Phobias That Will Wreck Your Shit

Eleanor Kinkervoss has recently asked me to be the guardian of her future children. But here’s the problem… I had a fucked-up childhood and thus have NO idea how to handle little humans. I didn’t have a terribly fucked-up childhood. I didn’t have the kind that leads people to become either serial killers or the greatest artists the world has seen. Rather, I had a middle of the road fucked-upness that squelched my capacity for greatness with a sliver of love and support. This seems to be a common theme at NU: instead of fame and brilliance that comes from a troubled past, we’re left with anxiety disorder and an ACT score over 30. This shit is not endearing nor special.

Happy Chick-Fil-A Day: 3 Things that are Actually Destroying the Sanctity of Marriage in America

Hmmmmm……..

Happy Chick-Fil-A day!

First, I’m going to point out that bitching about how someone’s interpretation of the Bible is wrong isn’t going to change their beliefs. Then I’m going to bitch about anti-gay crusaders’ interpretation of the Bible.

“The sanctity of marriage,” according to my translation of some people’s opinion, is a statement that presumably means that marriage is a Rull Special Thang. By letting just anyone marry, it’s not Rull Special anymore. Okay, got it. But the strategy so far (convert every LGBTQ in America by invalidating their feelings and telling them that they’re aberrations?) hasn’t really worked. If we’re gonna go down the road of preserve-marriage-by-making-it-only-available-to-some, we should bar a few others as well. Or just assassinate them, cause I’d be down with that.

1. Bruno Mars
Finish this sentence:

“It’s a beautiful night. We’re looking for something dumb to do. Hey baby, I think I want to __.”

Get Northwasted with ShermanAviators and attempt to pee on every building on campus while singing an impromptu a capella Katy Perry/Adele mashup? No, I’m sure you’re aware that that’s Ross Packingham’s sole purpose in life. Host a Winnie the Pooh-themed squaredance and kidnap someone’s mom because you want an even number to play Flipcup? No, that doesn’t rhyme. Beat the shit out of a homeless dude? Apparently at least three assholes who need to die painfully are into that, but the author and vessel of these words has a much more sinister plot.  Bruno Mars, who according to a recent poll has swiped the v-cards of 35% of teenage girls during their algebra daydreams,* wants to marry you.

…the fuck??

Look, B-mizzle, your name and your voice sound like they belong to a small ugly dog or a European pseudo-manslut. I’m sick of hearing your song about a completely uneventful day. And the assholes in this world who are offended by two people enjoying one anothers’ penises should really just calm the fuck down and be offended by Bruno Mars instead. This Motherfucker is partaking in the drink of the devil and clearly hasn’t asked her father’s permission. I’d mention that love isn’t exactly a central theme of the song, but the sacred kinds of marriage are apparently built on sanctity and not love, or no one would GAF.

Hell, at least Train was going to wait until he got the nerve to say hello in that café.

Hello Cleaveland!!!

2. Kim Kardashian
I wish that, for every small child that was given a homophobic protest sign by a Bigoted Motherfucker, another small child would be given a sign that said, “For the love of whatever God you believe in, stop media coverage of this woman.” While I congratulate her on having an admirable pair of boobies, only a woman desperate for companionship would marry someone who has the word “hump” in his name. She has also casually tossed the idea around of marrying her current beau, and I am convinced that living with Kanye West would be almost as bad as reading Ross Packingham’s Facebook powertrips.

Look, let’s all just agree that the Kardashian family is a few hookers short of a brothel and one letter short of a really fucked-up set of initials. Now who wants to take bets on when the number of how many weddings she’s had will exceed her bust measurement?

3. Anyone in Las Vegas
Enough said.

 

I will conclude this pathetic rant with the semi-relevant words of Commandant Leo Sextoi: “Bitches be too pretentious and uptight.”

 

“There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is heinous. The other is as though everything is heinous.” – Albert Einstein

 

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*second only to Justin Bieber, who regularly performs cunnilingus on young women while they avoid focusing on whatever the fuck their stupid English teacher is saying.

Fucked Up Children’s Shows

College is this weird time where everyone seems to take a decade-long step back in terms of maturity.  Everyone quotes Disney movies like it makes them cool, everyone watches Arthur, and everyone’s ability to control their bodily functions suffers major deterioration.  It’s a time of nostalgia.

But there’s something dark that lurks beneath the surface of some of the touchstones that defined our childhoods.  Something I’ve only noticed when applying a more mature perspective to the shows we all love.  So without further adieu, I present to you the most disturbing realizations I’ve had about the popular shows of our childhood.

Oh Clifford…

1. What the fuck is up with Clifford the Big Red Dog?
Have you guys seen Clifford? He’s the size of a house! A house. Wanna know what else is the size of a house? Houses. That’s like the only fucking thing because houses are huge.

And yet no one seems concerned. Do you know how dangerous that is? He’s a goddamn dog. Dogs: The animals that have such a limited presence of mind that they sometimes literally eat their own shit. Speaking of which, where does Clifford shit? It must be the size of a car. That dog is disgusting.

What’s stopping Clifford from seeing a squirrel and just tearing across town, inflicting the greatest instance of domestic damage since Hurricane Katrina? Clifford is a big red menace. If I could put down any cartoon dog, it would be Scrappy Doo. But Clifford would be a close second.

Funny, that walk suddenly looks a lot like a plantation owners stroll.

2. Arthur: Owns a dog
Now, I love Arthur. Without him I wouldn’t know that it was a wonderful kind of day, where we could learn to laugh and play and get along with each other. However, upon revisiting it in college (top-tier education, what?) I’ve realized that there is a seriously fucked up wrinkle in the Arthur world. I’ll break it down for you like this:

1) Everyone in Arthur is an animal.
2) All those animals are intelligent, like people
3) Therefore, animals are like people
4) Arthur owns a pet dog
5) Arthur owns a dog
6) Arthur owns a person
7) Arthur is a slave owner, of some mentally-stunted creature named “Pal”

So what we’re left with is basically this: Arthur owns a mentally-handicapped slave. I… I think I need to go lie down.

3. Recess is a caste system
When I watched Recess, I thought that the way the show divided the classes was funny. I was a mature, clever fifth grader — I was totally in on this joke. But re-watching the show, the world of recess is screwed up, in a serious way.

You guys remember the kindergarten class? The one that’s full of tiny, brutal savages? That speak in broken English and hunt older kids for sport?

What the hell happens to them when they graduate?

I don’t know where their teacher is, sometimes I think you see her exhausted and frazzled, but it’s more fun and equally applicable to pretend that the kids killed and ate her. Nothing is being done to prepare these children for the rest of their lives; they aren’t even learning to speak, much less how to read. Wanna know something that does really poorly in the United States? Tribal societies. Those kids are fucked.

“What do you mean I’m five minutes late?”

4. Thomas the Train: Sir Toppham Hat is a psycopath
Thomas the train is a simple show. It’s about a bunch of trains coming together on an island to work together and learn the meaning of friendship. That is, until you realize that the man who runs the Island of Sodor has absolutely no problem oppressing his train minions.

Now, a common catchphrase on the show is “you are a very useful engine!” This is all fine I guess, we want people to be useful. But then you realize that even though the Trains in the world of Thomas the Train can talk, and think, and feel, they’re still treated like trains. For example:

In the episode “Donald and Douglas” two trains have to compete against each other to see who is more efficient, and the train who doesn’t win will be destroyed. Holy shit. That’d be like if Morty made you compete with the kid who sits next to you for midterm grades, and then if you lost SENT YOU TO SCOTLAND TO BE TAKEN APART.

Sure, sure, but that’s just one episode. WAIT. NO IT’S NOT. Here’s the episode “The Sad Story of Henry.” This episode is about a train that’s afraid of the rain, so on a rainy day he refuses to come out of a tunnel because he’s scared that the rain will ruin his paint. The townspeople try to push and pull him out, but are ultimately unable too. So the Fat Controller (Sir Toppham Hat) orders him BRICKED INTO THE TUNNEL.

Forever. The train who not only can think, but has developed enough mentally to have a well-formed phobia.

This is how the Thomas the Train Wiki summary of the episode ends: “Henry is left in the tunnel cold, dirty, and lonely. He now wonders if he will ever be let out to pull trains again.”

Run on schedule, or be locked in a tunnel forever. Sweet dreams kids!

Other Things David Stern Should Veto

The most hated white man in the league since Toni Kukoc

When sports journalists heard about the NBA Commissioner’s probably ill-advised decision to veto a trade that would’ve sent New Orleans point guard Chris Paul to the Lakers, they practically pooped themselves with rage, railing about the end of the NBA with an apocalyptic despair that would’ve made Harold Camping proud. When I heard about the NBA’s decision, all I could think about was the goodness that could be accomplished by extending David Stern’s veto power, trigger-happy finger, and ‘screw it, I don’t care if I ruin the seasons of three teams’ attitude into other walks of life. Here are the fruits of that aforementioned thinking:

1. Rick Perry’s Presidential Campaign
Here at Sherman Ave we love Rick Perry. Oh wait, no we fucking don’t. No one in their right minds could ever stand to be in the same room, much less vote for, that intolerable shitmuffin. It now seems utterly ridiculous that people as intelligent as Mike Murphy actually thought that Perry could win the Republican nomination. Well, they were about as wrong as Custer’s last words. If only David Stern had stepped forward in August to stop this embarrassing shitshow of a campaign from ever launching.

His dreams were crushed by David Stern. M. Night Shyamalan's should be, too.

2. M. Night Shyamalan’s ability to make movies
So The Sixth Sense was maybe kind of okay. But I dare anyone to make it through The Happening without puking in a biological attempt to reject the atrocity from staying with you. Shyamalan made only one or two movies that could ever be considered ‘good,’ and everything since then has been so unbearably atrocious that Shaymalan should be prevented from ever tainting our eyes with such heinousness again. Unfortunately, the good people at Disney (and by “good people” I of course mean “stupid fucktards”) just keep signing off on his movies. Let’s get Stern in there to crush them the way he crushed Chris Paul’s dreams.

3. No Shave November
I’ll be honest, this year I tried doing No Shave November for the entire month, to see once and for all if I could really grow a beard. I can’t. And I’ve got news for everyone else who has tried it: you can’t either. You do look like an atrocious hobo, though. Congrats. Scumbag Steve would be horrified by your hygiene. Now let’s please agree to never do No Shave November again.

4. New Rebecca Black songs

Rosa Parks' personal hero

Katy Perry has no regrets — only love — about going all the way tonight. I have the same feelings about Rebecca Black’s “Friday.” Yes, it’s horrible, and yes, it probably shouldn’t exist, and yes, it speaks to some very heinous problems at the base of our modern society, but god damn is it funny. I’m glad it exists, and those two weeks where everyone in America absolutely refused to talk about anything else were just awesome. I feel bad for the hypothetical children I may or may not give birth to in the future because they will never have the experience of waiting at midnight for the release of Harry Potter books or movies, and I feel bad for them because they will never have the experience of going to school on March 18, 2011 (the Friday after the song came out) when everyone everywhere was singing “It’s Friday, Friday, GOTTA GET DOWN ON FRIDAY.” For two weeks it was fun to laugh, at the insipid songwriting, at the random rap verse that doesn’t make sense, at the problems with modern celebrity culture, but then those two weeks were over and we all moved on. DIDN’T WE?????

Apparently not. Apparently the ARK Music Factory thought that when 268,000 people disliked the “Friday” video, that meant “we love this, give us more please.” I hate to be the one to break this to you, Patrice Wilson, but when 268,000 people disliked the “Friday” video, it means they didn’t like it. At first, Rebecca Black was sad and kind of funny. Now she’s just sad.

5. Bill O’Reilly’s book about Lincoln
The only thing more ridiculous than the sentence “Bill O’Reilly wrote a book about the Lincoln assassination” is the sentence “Bill O’Reilly wrote a book about the Lincoln assassination that wasn’t true.” Yes. We live in a fucked up world. And while I think we have all accustomed ourselves to Fox News’s ridiculous excuse for news coverage, we don’t need them fucking up history as well. That’s Ross Packingham’s favorite subject!

6. “Ultimatum” by Jeph Loeb
If you’re a normal person, then it probably doesn’t mean anything to you when I say that Jeph Loeb fucked up the Ultimate Universe, but he did, and it is an intolerable atrocity.

Something doesn't seem right...

Quick nut graf: shortly after the dawn of the new millennium, Marvel Comics attempted to reinvigorate interest in their brand by creating an offshoot label, dubbed the Ultimate Universe, where they relaunched characters like Spider-Man and the X-Men as if their 40 year history didn’t exist, and the characters had been created in the year 2000. It worked. The stories were great, and their modern reworking of occasionally anachronistic Sixties concepts had a huge influence on Marvel’s later movie adaptations.

But in the year 2008, Marvel executives handed the creative reins of the Ultimate Universe to Jeph Loeb. It seemed like a sensible decision, as Loeb had won acclaim writing Batman at DC Comics. But whereas Loeb had done well on Batman with a strategy of utilizing Batman’s colorful cast and intriguing antihero sensibility, his plan for Ultimate Marvel was a little more like “destroy everything and kill every character.” His miniseries “Ultimatum” was basically a giant shit all over the Ultimate Universe, whose comics had helped spike my interest in the medium and which I still give to people who mention an interest in comic books, and I can no more forgive him for that than Eddie Murphy can forgive SNL for making one joke about him once.

And most importantly…

My First Quarter Grades
More important than any of the other things combined. I must admit, I got so caught up in college heinousness this quarter that I didn’t exactly get Will Hunting grades. Sure, it’s not like I stayed up past 2 am sequestered in the library every night of reading week preparing for my Ancient Philosophy final, but if Stern could have some words with Morty re: my grades, that would be dandier than Sebastian Flyte.

If that isn’t a convincing reason for giving David Stern a time machine and being done with it, I don’t know what is.