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Brandeis University's Community Newspaper — Waltham, Mass.

Rafi Farber




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    Rafi Farber

    Chicken and asparagus

    This is it. My last column for the Hoot. I've been dithering between, on the one hand, writing one more meaningless piece of senseless flack and, on the other, picking a bone with an issue I think is actually worth writing about in a senseful and flackless fashion. I have decided to do both: write about a serious issue sensefully, and put some flack on the side, kind of like overcooked asparagus that's not supposed to be eaten, just looked at and admired for its hideous poultry-decorating abilities. We'll start with the side dish.

    Nuclear potatoes are the only answer

    Are you afraid of the real world? I mean the world outside of the sheltered college environment? Are you even sure it exists in the first place? If you arent, then youre probably a very heavy drinker. This is a good thing, mostly because while sober and about to graduate, you tend to stay up nights wondering, thinking, fearing in the abysmal depths of insecurity who, once you are no longer in college, is going to feed you, fill up the toilet paper spindle, call facilities, cancel Modfest, or unlock your dorm room when you leave the keys inside and your roommate is in a different country because hes an international student who had to rush home because of a coup in Zimbabwe? The answers to all these questions can be found at the bottom of a Bacardi 151 bottle. However, you might not be cognizant enough at that point to understand them, and youll probably be pretty flammable by then as well.

    Memory Lane

    Depending on how many foreign substances you ingested during your freshman year, such as food, water, your roommates food, your roommates water, your roommate, or several of the books assigned for some humanities course that you figured you could just memorize quicker by eating, taking a trip down memory lane for upper classmen such as myself can be anywhere from frightening to fictional, in that you dont really remember anything on account of lack of sleep.

    Storks and slime molds and bird fluoh my!

    This past March 15th, 2006 (as opposed to the upcoming one), I became a third-degree uncle. Being a third-degree uncle is a lot like suffering a third-degree burn except it doesnt really involve fire or burning or having to get skin grafts. What it does involve, though, and in fact shares with a third-degree burn to a very large extent, is this: gas explosions.

    This is NOT a humor column

    This weeks topic concerns a letter to the editor sent in to The Hoot by an alert reader, who shall remain nameless, concerning a column I wrote two weeks ago about the serious, non-humor related topic of dental hygiene for snails. The letter was signed His Name 08. (For those of you wondering, 08 is not actually his family name. At least thats what Ive been hearing on the grapevine these days. It must be what his buddies call him. And believe me when I tell you this: Id run around in circles really fast until I fell down TWICE just for a nickname like 08.)

    How many lives before game over?

    How many near-death experiences can a man have in a lifetime? If youre a non-fictional person like you, then perhaps maybe 12.7 give or take 13. Though if youre like me, you can rack up something on the order of 47. One for the time you had to undergo minor oral surgery involving a mild coma-inducing opiate, another for the time you gave blood involving what certainly felt like a mild coma-inducing opiate given that both lapses into unconsciousness felt pretty much the same, and the other 45 for the time you were driving in a car with a transmission jerking like a bucking bronco with latent Parkinsons disease while a passing cement truck sprayed congealed cement sludge on your windshield and your power windows were broken.

    Apathetic senior taking pre-med courses for no reason

    Second semester seniors on reduced tuition and on the verge of graduating that take general chemistry and physics with labs for absolutely no reason whatsoever are part of a very inimitable club that should probably require a retinal scan and voice recognition to attain entry into its elusive headquarters. As the only one in this exclusive elite class, I regret to inform all that the door to my room does not, as of yet, have retinal scanning hardware installed. Though recently Ive learned to see this as a plus in that now I can squish my retina up against the doorknob and it wont even open. Ever. Security is my top priority here.

    Super Bowl previews in desperate need of a sane change

    As I sat down to watch Super Bowl XL, beer in hand, I, like most other Americans, couldnt help but wonder why ABC chose to name the most popular television event in history after a T-shirt size. And, like most other Americans, I soon figured out that it must have been some kind of underhanded bribe by Fruit of the Loom to promote its latest line of extra large underwear.

    Physics Apnea: Why Im so proud to be a college student

    Are you proud to be a college student? What I mean is, do you wake up in the middle of the night with a cold sweat, scratching yourself in various unsanitary places, wondering where you are and smelling like a pizza/vodka smoothie? And who IS that in my bed?

    Contact your local poison control center immediately

    As Brandeis Universitys go-to-guy for questions concerning serious life-altering issues, such as, Why does the university insist on stocking the bathrooms with toilet paper so thin that it disintegrates at the flatulence of a bacterium and you have to fold it in half in excess of 84 times before attempting use?, the future of peoples psychiatric health lays squarely at my fingertips. Some days I get so many questions that I dont even have time to copy my lab report from someone else seven minutes before its due.