PE Self Defense Instructor Breaks Into Students’ Homes to Evaluate Progress

HELEN NEWMAN HALL—Cornell administration has received several complaints from students enrolled in PE1560 Introductory Self Defense after instructor John Ladin broke into their respective homes on Sunday night in an unorthodox final assessment that students describe as a “harrowing ambush executed by a gleeful psychopath.” 

“How am I possibly supposed to evaluate my students’ self-defense capabilities if I’m not allowed to take careful notes on their gravest weaknesses, stalk their homes for potential entry points, memorize their daily schedules, and then pounce when they least expect it?” noted an exasperated Ladin. “Also, this has been in the syllabus all semester so I don’t know why it was a surprise.”

Several students have protested that the class material did not adequately prepare them for some aspects of the attack. “He literally busted down my apartment door, kicked me directly in the face, and yelled, ‘You’ve been John-ed, dumbass!’ None of that was on the study guide,” complained Max Green ‘23. 

“I actually did read the syllabus so I knew this was coming, but it was already past the drop deadline and I’d honestly rather get my shit rocked than take a W on my transcript,” admitted Amy Price ‘24. “I’m really not sure how I did, but I heard one kid just curled up in a fetal position and started crying for his mommy, so I’m hoping it’s graded on a curve” 

In response to complaints from students, VP Ryan Lombardi defended Ladin’s actions, writing, “We take great pride in the rigor of our coursework. Cornell is a world-class institution dedicated to preparing its students for anything life may throw at them, including a 4 am haymaker to the scapula. If these students can handle John’s violent attempt at their physical safety, we’ll know the university is doing its job.” 

Outdoor Campus Sign Just Reads “I Hope You Slip And Fall, Bitch”

LIBE SLOPEIn an unabashed declaration of disregard for your safety, the “No Winter Maintenance” signs across campus have been revised to say “I Hope You Slip And Fall, Bitch.”

The change, unaccompanied by a statement from administration, has received a variety of reactions from students.

“You know what? I gotta appreciate their honesty,” said Gustavo Lanza ‘23, “It’s like if you’re gonna actively root for my physical demise at least give it to me straight. Don’t tip-toe around the fact that there is black ice and that you are intentionally leaving it there for me to hurt myself.”

“I’ve been more careful recently, actually. I think them effectively telling their message to always be vigilant of the people who want to see you suffer. It’s a well-placed, lovely little threat,” said Margaret Paul ‘22, “Make me terrified to be alive, in a state of constant arousal. In fact, I think it has put a fire under my ass to do better. Be better. No matter what it takes. Because if I don’t, I might lose my balance and hit the ground hard. But that’s why I wear my boots. They have lots of traction.”

“Haven’t they always said that?” wondered Wendy Langmore ‘24, “Or I guess not that exactly, it used to say ‘Warning: Ice Cold Snow’ or something. As long as it gets the message that it’s slippery and that they’re not gonna do anything about it across I think it’s fine. It’s comforting to know that if I belly flop on the concrete, someone will be watching.”

The change follows the recent addition of an immersive speaker system embedded around the slope playing sound clips of reversed audio of little girls whispering and wolves howling ghostly cries between the hours of 1:00 AM – 3:00 AM.

Housing Department Under Fire For Hasty Response To Ganędagǫ: Mice Despite Complete Silence Concerning Low Rise Seven Vampire Bats

LOW RISE SEVEN—The University Housing Department faced criticism this past week for their rapid action regarding rodents in Ganędagǫ: Hall as they continued to ignore the rampant infestation of bloodsucking vampire bats throughout Low Rise 7. The host of flighted mammals have reportedly occupied the dilapidated residence hall for several months without any university intervention.

“It’s getting pretty hairy over here,” explained Low Rise 7 resident Martin Beale ‘25, wielding a broomstick to defend himself from the dorm’s winged invaders. “I’ve tried filing maintenance requests, but I can’t even find ‘Low Rise 7’ in the list of serviceable regions. So for now we have to adapt, just like with the dorm’s other quirks; I take hair out of the shower drain with a tiny rake, I leave my door shut to keep in heat, and I wear a motorcycle helmet to sleep so that the bats don’t bite me in the face.”

The university has been quick to address issues in other dorms, but remains negligent to their unwanted middle child of a residence hall. While a quick and thorough statement was made regarding the string of arsons last semester, no comment was made a week earlier when a mad scientist attempted to turn all of the Low Rise 7 residents into duck-people.

“Actually, the bats are fine,” stated a noticeably paler Beale, wrapped in a large red cloak. “The real issue on campus is the garlic bread. It’s everywhere, and it’s vile. Forget about the bats, no really, forget them, and get rid of that damnable garlic abomination.”

At press time, all of the shades in Low Rise 7 had been drawn, and a host of residents were seen outside of Low Rise 6 asking for permission to enter the premises.

Shocking! White Guy Wearing A “This Is What An Engineer Looks Like” Shirt Isn’t Technically Doing Anything Wrong

Last Monday, Jackson Carter ‘25 surprised his introductory Physics zoom lecture with an inspiring new T-shirt choice: one of the “This Is What An Engineer Looks Like” shirts given out by the College of Engineering.

“At first, I wondered why this idiot had his camera on in a 300 person lecture,” classmate Samantha O’Neill ‘25 remembered, “but then I noticed his shirt and realized, ‘Oh this guy is just an asshole.’ So you can imagine my shock when I later learned that they don’t exclusively give out those shirts to white guys who take fifteen seconds to decide whether or not to hold the door to Duffield open for you even though you’re only walking one pace behind them and now there’s a whole line of people waiting to get inside while he internally praises himself for being both a Gentleman™ and a Feminist™.”

During Monday’s zoom lecture, Carter made an effort to sit chest first in front of his camera in an effort to show off that he was, in fact, an engineer and looked like one. Carter also often unmuted to incorrectly correct the professor’s math and, during breakout rooms, personally invited each one of his peers to turn their cameras on too.

“I just think it’s my job, as a Caucasian male, to provide an inclusive environment for my less advantageous peers to speak out and release their burden,” Carter explained. “After all, if I don’t personally talk to all the women in my class, do I truly have the right to bear the insignia of the Cornell engineer in this manner? Do I disrespect the name and honor of my school if I don’t speak up for the masses about the mathematical misinformation being spread by the establishment? Must I be the one emblem of equality in an unfair world?”

By Wednesday’s class, Carter had already dropped the course and become a business major, claiming a desire to “take on a new challenge where I can touch more people’s lives” and shrugging off allegations that a horrendous GPA was to blame.

CAPS Recommends Students Take a Gap Year In Between Lectures to Improve Mental Health

CORNELL HEALTH—In a surprising display of thoughtfulness from Cornell’s mental health services, CAPS has begun to suggest that overwhelmed students take a year off in between every lecture.

“We see so many kids needlessly stressing out about their grades, and the pandemic, and literally everything else,” says counselor Matthew Greene. “It’s a good idea for them to take some time to clear their heads, and get a bit of real-world experience before learning the next half of that one derivation. Also, it gives me less work to do.”

Noelle Lovin ’TBD credits her “totally chill vibes” to the massive number of gap years she has taken. “I’ve been here since 1974,” she says, evading any questions about why she still looks 20 and what the suspicious red liquid in her water bottle is. “It’s so nice to take all these super tough classes at my own pace. The financial aid office won’t give me any more money, and one time they tried to kill me with a wooden stake, but like, it’s all good, man. I mean, I’m still here.”

“Of course, not every student has the immortality or stacks of cash necessary to take that many gap years,” says Greene, when asked about program alternatives. “But we here at CAPS are dedicated to improving all mental health on campus, including those who can’t pay my salary for thirty years. Have you considered downloading a meditation app instead?”

At press time, Lovin could be found skimming through a worn copy of Bram Stoker’s Dracula, to prepare for her next essay due in seven years’ time.

Econ Student Condescendingly Explains Why We Can’t Just Print More Big Red Bucks

STATLER HOTEL—When a date at Terrace led his girlfriend to ask why administration simply couldn’t increase the number of Big Red Bucks included in meal plans, one Cornell Econ student burst into a histrionic rant that this would surely cause the destruction of the Cornell economy. 

“Of course they can’t just print more BRBs, sweetie,” scoffed Allen Brooksby ‘24, taking out his Introductory Microeconomics textbook with a heavy sigh. “You clearly don’t understand simple principles of economic thought. Have you ever heard of inflation? Of course not. You know the Great Depression? The 2008 housing crisis? The horrors of Communism? Venezuela? In case you didn’t know, this is exactly why all those things happened. When you print more money the entire country has bad things happen, that’s basically a law of economics.”

To demonstrate his points more clearly, Brooksby proceeded to graph the situation, labeling the x-axis Inflation and the y-axis Economic Disaster. He drew a line with a steep positive slope labelled Cornell’s Economy, which he claimed was definitive proof that issuing extra BRBs would bankrupt the university. Extremely proud of himself, he proceeded to show the graph to passing students, mentioning multiple times that he was teaching economics to his girlfriend.

“Honestly, I’m not even insulted that he treated me like a child, just kind of confused what his point was,” explained Brooke Henderson ‘25. “You can’t compare the Treasury issuing new currency to Cornell making its meal plans slightly more affordable, that’s a complete non sequitur. I’d be willing to bet that a fair amount of BRB’s don’t wind up getting spent at all, and that’s just a bad deal for us. You can only spend them at like six places on campus anyways, it’s an extremely lame system for anyone who likes not losing money. And did he just call me his girlfriend? This is the second time we’ve hung out.”

Following this interview, grades for the first Microeconomics prelim exam were posted, with Henderson scoring ten percentage points higher than her friend.

Campus to Introduce Permanent Patch Of Dirt With A Few Trucks On It

ARTS QUAD—In an announcement that sent shockwaves throughout campus, President Martha Pollack unveiled construction plans for a new dusty home for minimally labeled and questionably permitted trucks in the middle of the arts quad.

“We really wanted to spruce up the place,” wrote Pollack in her Monday morning email, “I kept looking at all that expansive grass out there and couldn’t help but think it needed something more—something which had a humble pizzazz, something which has individuality: an avant-garde installation which a student of the arts could appreciate.”

Named after the donors who will fund the $2 million project, the William and Florence Frenk Dirt-Truck Patch follows the success of North Campus’s Risley Dirt-Truck Patch, although this addition will be far less dominated by rocks and will try to improve the dirt’s sandiness. However, the university has decided to continue to use an array of white Ford F150 pickup trucks.

“The purpose of this project is not to merely tantalize the human eye but to make its viewer ask questions, which in a way, are reflections of the subjectivity of our existence. Does the caution tape outlining only one part of one edge of the patch mean you can walk through it if needed, or not? Why is there a man in a hard hat just sort of pacing around the trucks for hours on end some days? Why are there no license plates? These questions all have no concrete answers to them—your own conclusions, however, will mimic your inner self.”

Construction on the project will tentatively begin next week and continue into the spring of 2031.

Lack of Women’s Restrooms In Hollister Gentle Little Reminder of Our Place In Society

HOLLISTER HALL—Despite recent efforts to become more diverse and inclusive of women, the College of Engineering has made sure to keep the women’s restroom options limited in Hollister Hall as a friendly reminder of our place in society.

“One of the things that drew me to Cornell was how welcoming it was, especially for  women in a field such as engineering,” said Priya Yadav ‘25. “However, I was definitely shocked and disappointed when I left my math discussion and realized I had to go all the way to the arts quad to find an available bathroom.”

Other female engineering students had mixed feelings about the lack of restrooms, and opted to look on the bright side of the situation.

“Everytime I’m on the third floor of Hollister and realize I need to go to the second to relieve myself, I like to use that realization as a reminder to stay grounded,” said Ellen Choi ‘24. “It’s kind of like when Patrick from thermo corrects my homework and I definitely got the answer wrong, it keeps me humble.”

As of press time, construction workers were seen demolishing the women’s restrooms in Duffield Hall.

OP-ED: My Hand Brushed Against Another Student’s In Okenshields, Should I Get Married Or Contact Traced?

OKENSHIELDS 一 Let me paint you a picture. There I am, alone, in Okenshields on a Tuesday night, preparing for a hearty meal in the line for stir fry and rice. My mind is wholly on food, and I am ravenous. My plan, executed to perfection numerous times hence, is to grab my meal, retreat to the safety of my table in the corner, eat, and leave. Alas, God sees the plans of man and laughs. Reaching out for the spoon to scoop my jasmine rice, another hand brushes up against my own, in a soft, warm caress that sends shivers down my spine. Thoughts spiral through my head of marriage and growing old together with this stranger. Yet I hear a cough at the same time, from the same general direction of the caress. I am now racked with a crisis of conscience: should my next move be to profess my love for this soft-handed seductress or procure a supplemental test at the earliest opportunity?

 

My gut instinct is to follow the former course of action. After all, how many true opportunities for love are we granted in one lifetime, and what man can afford to let them slide? You must understand that I have not felt the touch of a woman in many months, and that as the pandemic falls under control, I am tempted to reenter the romantic scene in person. I cannot abide another year filing out the Perfect Match survey only to discover a lack of chemistry in person. So on these rare occasions I must seize my chance and make my feelings known, right?

 

On the other hand, a positive COVID test could harm this and any future opportunities for courtship. What if, in avoiding the dangers of disease, I miss another chance down the line? What if I get more people sick and settle for someone not right for me? What if this relationship leads to disaster in such a way that I may never love again? As with the ripples of a leaf on the surface of a lake, one can never fully anticipate the consequences of unintended action, nor can man truly count himself a master of his own fate.

 

As I consider, in thorough detail, how to make my next move, I feel the glare of my peers, and look up into the piercing, emerald-green eyes of my potential lover. “Dude, you’re holding up the line,” she says, grasping the rice spoon. I walk away dejected, riceless, selecting my appointment on DailyCheck. Fate has once more conspired against me, and I was but a hapless spectator to the machinations of love.

Bold Champion of Health and Safety Gives Courageous Glare to No-Masker

HO PLAZA—Hoda Dabiri ‘23 took a fearless stand in the name of health and wellness when she lightly furrowed her brow at a mask-less passerby while walking to her only in-person class this Thursday.

“I definitely considered saying something, but I decided against it,” said the breathless defender of the campus community. “Instead I just sorta squinted my eyes to let them know that I strongly disapprove.”

The forceful message was entirely lost on the no-masked student, who could not distinguish any change in expression from behind Dabiri’s face mask and sunglasses.

“Oh, she glared at me? I didn’t even notice,” responded Justin Cold ‘24 . “If she had just reminded out loud me to put my mask on, I probably would have done it.”

Following the incident, Dabiri took a well-deserved break from being on the vanguard of the pandemic response by scrolling through Instagram and passively judging all her friends that posted pictures in a group without masks.