Words From the Top

A Tad Bit Stupid

November 1, 2002

There’s something a lot of you are doing wrong, and it’s time you all know about it before your ignorance embarrasses me any further. Let’s start with the basics, with some friendly excerpts from Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary.

tad Function: noun 2: a small or insignificant amount or degree : BIT [might give him some water and a tad_to eat — C. T. Walker]- a tad: SOMEWHAT, RATHER [looked _a tad bigger than me]

bit Function: noun – a bit: SOMEWHAT, RATHER [the play was a bit dull]

Now that we all know that the word “tad” does not act as any kind of modifier for the word “bit,” meaning as it does exactly the same thing, can we all agree to stop using them next to each other? That’s right, they’re absolute synonyms, there’s no need to use both. You wouldn’t say I’m a “bit bit” late, would you, retard? I know adding the word “tad” lends your speech an oh-so-clever touch of mock sophistication, but here’s a newsflash, pea-brain: you get that effect with just the word “tad.” Saying “tad bit” just makes you sound like a moron who doesn’t even understand the strange noises coming out of your own stupid mouth.

Ah ah ah…stop right there. You were going to say that it sounds right, because that’s how everyone says it. Well, everyone’s wrong, dingbat. Just because they all sound like idiots doesn’t excuse you for sounding like one. Sure, you may think you’re very funny when you walk around on cold days telling people it’s a “tit bit nipply” out. Oh, it’s very funny and charming. We all loved National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation just as much as you did (or at least, just as much as the person you heard it from and copied, without knowing you were imitating a movie), which is why we can draw on our memories of Chevy Chase delivering the line correctly, without the word “bit,” and remember how it was once amusing. Why? Because even the once-funny screenwriter John Hughes, in spite of an unhealthy fixation on the supposed comic value of cartoonish blows to the head, at least recognized that only one three letter noun meaning “somewhat, rather” needed to be in the sentence–even if it was going to be humorously replaced with the word “tit.”

Don’t think you sound dumb saying “tad bit”? Great terrific. We’ll talk speak about other things. How about a stroll walk down to the shop store up the street road? We can buy purchase snacks munchies to eat consume. If you want desire to go travel someplace else, we you and me can drive drive in my car automobile.

Starting to get the picture? Smashing. Don’t thank me, dim-bulb, just pass it on to your friends, and we can rid ourselves of this obnoxious redundancy in our conversation. Because saying “tad bit” is just about the dumbest thing you can say. Probably the only thing dumber is setting your girlfriend straight in the above manner when she says “tad bit.” That may have been a tad hasty. I miss kissing.

Volume 12- Issue 3

Loving the EECS

November 1, 2002

feature, Kevin Deenihan

It’s Friday night, and you’ve been stood up by the Usual Penis so he can go to a strip club. Your options are limited: watch the Oxygen Network with your roommate, try and find a frat party not full of drunks and glowstick-wielding freshmen, or try something a little adventurous: go to Soda Hall. That’s right, you’re going cruising for engineers, and you’ll find the most potent batch of masculinity ever known. EECS majors have a terrible reputation, and that’s okay. They have more than their fair share of men who see women as second best to their favorite anime girls, and, in extreme cases, as second best to Mommy. These are what you’d call “personality quirks.”

But the reputation they receive as unwashed, skinny nerds is entirely unwarranted. What is overlooked is the number one fact of EECS men: they are volcanoes of untrammeled testosterone with enough willpower and intelligence to learn whatever you wish to teach. These are people capable of spending five hours at a time looking for a single bug in 10,000 lines of computer code. While your typical absentminded History major is perhaps capable of spending 30 seconds looking for the G-Spot before wandering off to other duties, engineers will find the G-Spot. They will even bring in T-squares and calculators if it’s required. And there’s a lot you can do with a T-square besides straight lines.

Go ahead and wander into any computer lab. Now take your pick: there will be at least 10 guys waiting there. How often can you choose a guy with such precision? Don’t be afraid to be picky: you have every chance of finding a gem somewhere in the hall, finishing up his project before heading off to the RSF to lift weights. Unfortunately, most will be in a sitting position, which is a bad way to check out the ass. Just presume that it’s well toned.

In confronting an engineer, being direct is the key. Be firm, upfront, and don’t play games, unless you’ve made clear you want to play games. Take advantage of your environment, too. This is a building chock full of electricity, machines, and people who know how to make anything out of both. Start on top of a copying machine, just to keep it simple, and then get crazier. Let’s face it, you haven’t lived until you’ve gotten spanked by a Spanking Robot. On a more serious note, don’t operate heavy machinery under the influence of engineer loving, as things could get messy; and not in that good way.

Engineers don’t take Fluid Mechanics for the credits. (Well, yes they do, but it still applies). These are men with a greater understanding of forces and weights than anyone else at Berkeley. Tired of being crushed by a too-heavy lover? Just murmur, “mass times velocity” to an engineer and he’ll understand instantly. Let him experiment: it’s what he does best. After he gets over his shyness and is given freedom to roam, you’ll be surprised by his imagination. But do make very clear the parameters and expectations; EECS majors don’t expect projects to work correctly the first time, but they’ll try over and over if necessary.

Want a quickie? That’s fine; he’ll return to Counterstrike with a dazed expression and you’ll walk out a sated woman. Do take my advice: this is an opportunity not to be missed. Do it like the engineers do: on and on until the break of dawn. And then drink a Red Bull and start all over again.

Volume 12- Issue 3

The Daily Californian

Corrections & Clarifications

November 1, 2002

feature, Kevin Deenihan

Our article on Sarvonian Exchange Students incorrectly spelled exchange student Garvoni’s name as “Gabvoni.” Also, there is no such nation as Sarvonia.

Our Tuesday Editorial incorrectly stated “So let’s end this period of tolerance and start a round of pogroms that would shame Germany.” The nation should be Russia, not Germany.

Our Wednesday article incorrectly referred to the Daily Californian as “fiscally solvent.”

Our Friday Column incorrectly stated “Of course, Heterosexuals like myself don’t worry about this.” Mr. Deenihan is actually a flaming homosexual.

Our Tuesday article incorrectly referred to “Women like Carol Buran of the Women’s Studies Department.” Ms. Buran is actually a broad.

Our Tuesday column stated that “Sex is a very personal, private act that shouldn’t be vulgarized in a newspaper.” This is incorrect.

Our Wednesday article, “Run for your lives!” stated “They’re everywhere! They’re taking over our minds! They’re among us!” This is incorrect. Submit to the overmind.

Regarding the article on freeze tag, as of press time on Tuesday Don Camacho was “it.” However, by the next morning, Mr. Camacho was no longer “it.”

We apologize ever so much for the October 30, 2001 article “Silence, Wishes and the Torment of War.”

The Monday article “Poisoned Daily Cals to Kill Thousands” accidentally contained poison.

The Daily Californian regrets the errors.

Volume 12- Issue 3

Killing The Neighbor’s Dog In Five Easy Drafts

November 1, 2002

feature, Zack Fornaca

For the second time in a week, my lawn has dog poop on it. I will remedy this, the only way I know how.

One

I have heard that chocolate is like poison to dogs. I do have a lot of chocolate lying around. However, it seems like a waste of perfectly good chocolate, when I have so much actual poison lying around. I could slip the real poison into the dog’s food, and the chocolate into this pan of fudge bars I’m making. I realize my error, however, when I remember that the fudge bars are for trick-or-treating kids and that, as a misanthrope, I require both the chocolate and the poison for the fudge. This, of course, begs the question, “How do I get a dog to go trick-or-treating?”

Two

For starters, I need a costume. This would require more stitching and weaving than I am prepared to muster, except that Old Navy actually sells costumes for dogs. Wizard, pirate, ninja, or cat? The last fucking thing the dog needs is magic (regular magic, ninja magic, or cat magic) to help it poop my lawn to smithereens, but I think an eyepatch might fuck it up, or at least keep it from seeing what I’m up to. It might be hard to convince the dog’s owner to take it trick-or-treating, though, especially since it’s a seeing eye dog and the owner is diabetic. And blind. Since it’s a seeing eye dog.

Three

Solution: I break into the neighbor’s house and steal one of his CDs (Gloria Estefan and the Miami something something). The next day, I rub it with dirt, knock on his door and say, “Um, I think your dog left this on my lawn.” And he says thanks and invites me in. I feign thirst, and the blind guy heads into the kitchen to get me a glass of water. “Say, nice place you got here. Oh, is this a picture of your kids? Yeah?” I say, muffling the dog while forcing an eyepatch and boots onto it. I thank my host for the water and then leave.

Time passes.

On Halloween afternoon, I return to my neighbor’s place and knock on the door. He opens it and I pull out a lead pipe and knock him out. This may seriously injure him, but it serves my purposes. I shake him, saying, “Buddy! Buddy!” until he comes to. “What happened?” he says. “You were just about to take your dog trick-or-treating,” I tell him. “And then I knocked you out with this pipe, accidentally.” He doesn’t beleive me, but I point out that his dog is wearing an eyepatch and boots, which he confirms by touch. “I certainly don’t remember doing that!” he says, but feels obligated. I excuse myself and go back home.

That evening, my neighbor comes by with his dog. I give the dog a fudge bar and by morning the dog is dead. This leaves me elated, until four days later when I find a fresh coat of shit matted onto my lawn. I have killed the wrong dog.

Four

I decide to ask the neighbor if he’s seen any other similar-looking dogs around, only realizing my mistake after I ask. “Hi, sorry to bother you, what with the grieving and all, but have you seen any … I mean … do you … have you smelled or, uh, heard any dogs, lately, that look like … no, smell or sound like they, uh, might look like your old dog?” No? Fair enough.

I contact my brother who works for the Center for Disease Control in Atlanta, and ask him if they have anything on tap that kills dogs and only dogs, and if he can mail it to me. He says they have a bunch — Enwoofalitis, Double Rabies, Doggie AIDS — but that they’re all totally off-limits and that he’d lose his job. “Come on,” I say, “You love losing your job for me!”

“Oh yeah,” he says, and three days later an aerosol spray can of Golden Re-fever arrives in my mailbox. I spray the lawn and, much to my delight, as the days wear on, the shit on my lawn gets more watery and pungent. The dog is dying!

Then, just on the cusp of my total victory, Jesus descends from heaven and grants the dog immortality. God-damn it!

Five

I wait 20 years. At 7:32 am on February 20, 2023, California sinks into the ocean in a massive earthquake and, while I die, that infernal dog is left to sink. “But dogs can swim!” you say. Oh yeah? Maybe so, but can they swim … FOR ETERNITY??

Volume 12- Issue 3

Iraq Imposes Sanctions on U.S.

November 1, 2002

Dan Freedman, newsflash

Last week saw a drastic turn of events in the tenuous Iraqi situation. Iraqi President Saddam Hussein announced last Thursday that Iraq will begin to impose economic sanctions on what he described as the “Fulcrum of Evil.” In a speech broadcasted over Al-Jazeera and Iraqi radio, he described the Fulcrum of Evil as the breeding ground for immoral behavior such as consensual sex and binge drinking. “These nations, which include the United States, Russia, France, China, Israel, Ukraine, Britain, Spain, Brazil, Mexico–especially Mexico–Italy, Germany, South Africa, Canada, and all other U.N. nations, represent all that is evil in the world,” Hussein stated.

In addition, Hussein unveiled his plan to slowly end all forms of trade with these nations in his speech: “My goal is to cut back our major exports, such as rocks and camels, to these rogue nations by 85% within one year and hopefully 100% by the year 2004. This way they will feel an almost immediate impact in their homes and neighborhoods.”

Hussein also explained that he hopes to encourage existing separatist groups such as the KKK and the Berkeley City Council to build stronger coalitions and rise up against these oppressive regimes. Hussein ended his speech by explaining that sanctions will not include oil. “It may be evil money,” Hussein commented, “but it’s a lot of evil money, so it’s all good.”

In response to Hussein’s statements, President Bush shot back, “You can’t put sanctions on us, we already have sanctions on you! And you totally stole my Axis of Evil idea. You’re using all my material; Saddam, you are such a hack!”

Volume 12- Issue 3

Raleigh’s Introduces New Theme Night

November 1, 2002

David Duman, newsflash

After losing business every night of the week to other Southside bars that offer cheap drinks in large quantities to college students, self-described “American Pub and Grill,” Raleigh’s, has announced their new binge-drinking theme night, “Come Drink a lot at Raleigh’s on Wednesdays.”

“It was about time we held a theme night to get college students to come and spend their Stafford Loan money on large quantities of beer,” said shift manager and promotions director Courtney Hill. “With [other Telegraph area bar] Henry’s offering Two for Tuesdays, $3 ‘tinis on Fridays, and Dollar Drafts on Saturdays, and the Bear’s Lair taking away all the beer drinkers with their Thursday Liter Nights, we were at a distinct disadvantage. Also, we were hit doubly hard because, after the incident last year involving the San Diego State rugby team, all the date rapists have moved back to Kip’s.”

The theme night, which will feature 2-for-1 pitchers of beer and $1 flavored malt beverages, is perfectly set up for the college crowd. Says Hill, “The cheap beer will increase aggression among our male patrons, while deceptively strong Hard Lemonades and Smirnoff Ices will increase the vulnerability of the females.”

“It’s just too bad that the only night left open was Wednesday, I mean, it’s tough to come up with a name to go with that day of the week that people will remember,” Hill concluded. When a bystander suggested “Get Wasted Wednesdays,” emphasizing the catchy alliteration and ease of use in conversation, Hill’s face crumpled and she burst into tears.

Volume 12- Issue 3

Survey Results Released

November 1, 2002

newsflash, Rebecca C. Brown

In a recent study of humor, Berkeley researchers found that the average American would describe the Holocaust’s comedic value as “not all that funny.”

“Six million is a whole lotta Jews,” remarked study organizer Isaac Browne.

Other phenomena that earned the “not all that funny” distinction included the Jim Crow Laws, ethnic cleansing in the former Yugoslavia, and the eradication of North America’s native peoples due to diseases contracted from European settlers.

Observed Browne, “I guess people aren’t really amused by murder on so large a scale. Who knew?”

Child molestation, midgets, the plague, and heart attacks most often fell into the “pretty funny” category, while the Crusades, anal rape, old people, and unfair labor practices among over-seas clothing manufacturers were deemed “hilarious” by the participants of the survey.

Volume 12- Issue 3