OP-ED: It’s Time to Deport A Cappella Groups to Ithaca College

Perhaps you have seen their strange advertisements. Perhaps one of them has approached you, pushing their product. God forbid, perhaps a “friend” has dragged you to one of their cult-like ceremonies, and charged you money for the privilege! This problem is top of mind for many Cornellians. The instrumentless menace, the unaccompanied scourge, the A CAPPELLANS, have unleashed a series of torturous concerts, and they are not through. They never will be. 

I ask you: remains there a single Cornellian untouched by this blight? Do we want innocent first-years exposed to this, hurt by this, for years to come? Do you, dear reader, want to deal with another wave of concerts ever again?

Fortunately, there is hope. As Cornell carries this curse, so too is it blessed—for a solution lurks nearby. Many Cornellians have had the misfortune of spotting this wretched place. Perhaps, while browsing Olin’s stacks or strolling atop the slope, you have noticed in the distance two unsightly towers and a grotesque spire. That, my friend, is Ithaca College. 

Most Cornellians only ever think of this peculiar institution when we encounter one of their students in the Commons or on a bus—and then quickly forget about it. Unfortunately, our current problem requires us to learn a bit about them. You see, Ithaca College is largely a music school. Whereas we rightly judge the A CAPPELLANS as strange and dangerous, Ithaca College and its students welcome, encourage, and support these deviant beatboxers and ooh-ahhers. I will not claim to know what goes on in their minds to bring them to such a conclusion, but, needless to say, it is twisted and dark.

A solution to our woes, then, presents itself. I say, for the good of Cornell and Cornellians, expel the A CAPPELLANS! Let them live amongst their wicked brothers and sisters!

Perhaps the humanitarians reading this are wary. Friends, I assure you this solution is best for everyone. We Cornellians will be free from this scourge, but the A CAPPELLANS, too, will be happier at their new home. No longer will a majority of their concert audience be there by coercion—as hard as that is to imagine! To anyone concerned about the plan’s feasibility: it is less than an hour’s walk from Central Campus to Ithaca College. Given this geographical blessing, the A CAPPELLANS can make their way on foot, requiring no investment from the university. And for those of you—if you do exist—who do not take issue with the plan’s execution but rather with its objective, I say: leave with them! If you harbor sympathies for these monsters, follow them to Ithaca College, that dark den of sin. We shall see how long your sympathy lasts.

My good Cornellians, this plan requires no money, no university resources. All it requires is bravery. President Pollack, be brave! See the people’s will carried out! Expel the infernal A CAPPELLANS once and for all!

THWONK! Evil Trickster Lamppost Foils Me Again

October the 14th

Today was a cruel day. I was dutifully making my way across Campus Road, soon to be greeted by a delectable submarine sandwich from Mattin’s Cafe, when I found myself viciously hoodwinked by a local ne’er-do-well. As I reached the end of the crosswalk, the Duffield doors called out to me, summoning me to my delicious reward, but it was not to be. With my eyes set forward, I was unable to see the trap laid out before me. A towering lamppost had installed itself right in the middle of my path. As I hurried forward towards my lunch, I was met with a sudden CRONK, the sound of my head colliding with the treacherous piece of pipe. Both bruised and degraded, I found that my appetite had vanished following this woeful experience, so I retreated back home.

October the 15th

Tragedy has befallen me once more. I was well aware of the lamppost’s intentions today, making careful note of its position as I approached. However, I had underestimated the devilish capabilities of this scoundrel. The lamppost had conspired to untie my shoelaces, sending me careening forward as soon as I reached its deviously chosen location. KLONK! As my face collided with the vile piece of steel, I was greeted with pain and humiliation. The snickers of my classmates echoed around me, and I heard the lamppost join them in their cacophony of cruelty. 

October the 16th

I can endure this torture no longer. I have been made the fool for the last time. Already sporting a sizable lump atop my forehead, I exercised the utmost caution as I approached the lamppost today. Upon reaching a distance of less than two meters from the damnable pole, the foul being enacted its nefarious plot. My Airpods died without warning, turning off the carefully curated playlist that had been providing me with the courage to face my cylindrical adversary. As I reached for my phone to resume my listening experience, I averted my eyes from the lamppost for a mere moment. Alas, I paid dearly for my mistake. THWONK! I staggered backwards from the unexpected collision, shame filling my stomach while a dull ache filled my head. I vowed at that very moment to put a stop to this unholy endeavor, and rid our campus of this villainous plague. Tomorrow I will be driving my car to class, though I will be making a quick pit stop along the way. We shall see how the lamppost fares against the force of my Subaru Outback, though I have a feeling that this time it won’t be me falling down.

October the 17th

The lamppost had the last laugh. Unbeknownst to me, it is illegal to knock over public infrastructure with your car. My brief moment of victory was quickly squashed when the lamppost’s agents of villainy escorted me away from the scene of my supposed crime. While I waste away within my cell, I am sure the lamppost is overjoyed. They tell me that it will be reinstalled within the week. Madness! Perhaps even now it is selecting its next victim, that poor soul. Will no one stop this wickedness?

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.