Communist Roommate Real Fucking Cagey About Sharing Gas Costs on Road Trip

FLORA ROSE HOUSE—Despite being a self-avowed “card-carrying Cornell commie,” Jerome “Jerry” Woodhouse ‘25, the roommate of Brent Hao ‘25, has reportedly been pretty fucking reticent to split the costs of gas receipts from their spring break road trip.

“I figured that if anyone would be quick to pay me back, it would be the guy who quoted Lenin in his high school yearbook,” said an exasperated Hao. “When I nudged Jerry the other day, he mumbled something about ‘perpetuating a system predicated upon the antiquated notion of private property,’ which… maybe refers to the fact that we took my car? I tried again a bit more forcefully, but he was still pretty evasive. ‘Money is the product of an economy that commodifies the basic needs of the proletariat while financializing the very resources which will ultimately make the planet unlivable for all but the most lecherous parasites of the bourgeoisie,’’ I think it was. Asshole.”

The conflict arose in the wake of the duo’s drive to Disney World, which was described by Woodhouse as “absolutely magical.” Prior to their vacation, Woodhouse had indicated willingness to share the expenses 50-50, seeming to approve of the plan for “socialization.” However, Hao noted Woodhouse’s misgivings began to emerge early in the planning process.

“I should’ve known this would be an issue the minute I heard Jerry say something passive-aggressive about profit motives back in February,” said Hao. “I forgot about it for a while, but I noticed later how he kept referring to Venmo as an oppressor feeding off the siloing of the masses. That’s at least a yellow flag. It wasn’t until he started ranting about seizing the means of internal combustion that I realized I was fucked. I have no idea what any of that means in practical terms—and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t either—but it sure as shit doesn’t seem to mean paying me back.”

At press time, tensions threatened to boil over as Woodhouse referred to Hao as a “capitalist shitpig attempting to crush his financial organizational self-management.”

U.S. Congressman Comforted to Learn Not Even TikTok Can Connect to Campus Wifi

BARTELS HALL—After an embarrassing hearing on Capitol Hill failed to provide satisfactory answers, an internal government review found that no social media apps could ever possibly interact with Cornell’s wireless network.

“I have to say I was concerned TikTok could somehow access Cornell’s Wi-Fi and gain access to the research we conduct on that campus,” admitted Representative Jeff Lindell ‘85. “We were concerned student data might be being used to spark communism on campus. Fortunately, a thorough review found that it would be physically impossible for any phone application to connect to Eduroam. ” 

Cornell’s impenetrable virtual space is legendary among the cybersecurity community, with even the most skilled hackers failing to extract data from within it. No third-party attack on the network has ever succeeded, with all but the most sophisticated hackers giving up on the practice decades ago. Distributed denial-of-service (DDoS) attacks, a common harassment tactic online, are ineffective against Cornell’s network, which virtually always denies service to its users anyway.

“It is a top priority for us that the Chinese Communist Party cannot view any of our student data,” explained President Martha Pollack. “If they ever got a look at just how many of our best and brightest regularly search for antidepressants and Ryan Lombardi fanfiction within the same minute, I have no doubt they’d declare war on us within the hour. Frankly, after a cursory review of student internet usage, I was tempted to expel every enrolled student we have and just start over.”

At time of writing, email requests for comment to other important figures in this debate failed to send.

Radicalized Bus Driver Promises “Under Communism, All Buses Will Be OurBus”

WEST CAMPUS–The 3:00 bus to New York City was left in turmoil this Thursday after CoachUSA driver and political radical Jessie O’Connor announced her support for OurBus-based political systems.

“Awaken yourselves, fellow proletariat!” declared a borscht-chugging, chain-smoking O’Connor to her bus full of self-described “solidly middle-class” hotel heirs. “Too long have the capitalist pig-dogs at Shortline been allowed to control the means of production. In our glorious new world there will be neither rich nor poor–neither Greyhound nor TCAT. Under communism, all buses will be OurBus!” 

O’Connor’s surprise proclamation has triggered a critical reexamination of Marx’s masterwork Das Kapital, including a heretofore forgotten chapter titled Die Oürbussen. Economic theorists are already declaring the bus-themed treatise one of history’s most important calls to the working class, second only to Britney Spears’ anthem “Work Bitch.”

“For decades, philosophers have wondered why communism, while excellent on paper, has routinely failed in the real world,” said ILR professor Raul Cisneros ‘87. “It is now clear that the key to true economic liberation is conveniently-timed buses from Ithaca to Syracuse Hancock Airport starting at a mere $30. The revolution is now, comrades!”

As of press time, the revolution was already delayed thirty minutes.

Op-Ed: I said Dialectical Materialism Once in Discussion and Now I’m Smoking Cigarettes Outside of Milstein

My mid-morning Critical Theory class had just begun, and, ever the eager pupil, I was excited to enter into a spirited debate about this week’s readings. As an informed moderate, I was prepared to argue that the true virtues of capitalism lie in the system’s benevolent attitudes towards working people, lifting them out of unemployment into a nice, stable job that keeps them safely under the federal poverty line.  

I was asked by the professor to summarize an assigned excerpt from Marx’s Theses on Feuerbach. As I detailed Marx’s theory describing the conflict of social forces caused by material needs, I felt myself transforming. All of a sudden, I started shaking my fists, railing against the tyrannical ruling class and the corrosive injustice of American capitalism.

Before my eyes, my Yankees baseball cap, Nike joggers, and Patagonia half-zip evaporated. In their place emerged a stained beanie, 80s graphic tee shirt, and corduroy pants, all clearly purchased from an overpriced thrift store designed to rip off woke rich kids who desperately want to look poorer than they are. I couldn’t even recognize myself.

Even though discussion ended, there was no going back to my old life. Now, instead of hanging out with my boys, I hit the concrete with my comrades, skateboarding around the Arts Quad and lighting up cigs to protest the system and also procrastinate doing homework. 

Since that fateful day, I’ve only grown more determined to read up on Communist theory so I can better understand and defend the rights of the proletariat. I am confident I will conform to this ideological perspective for the rest of my life– that is, until I discover that The Clash wasn’t even popular in the USSR.

Brave Student Sparks Revolution With Scathing Course Evaluation

GOLDWIN SMITH HALL—In a display of gritty revolutionary spirit, Elia Wang ‘21 took it upon herself to use course evaluations to dismantle Cornell’s ruling class: tenured professors.

“I was looking for a way to truly make my voice heard,” said Wang. “And submitting an evaluation of straight ones will be a surefire way to topple the regime of tenure.”

Wang’s instruments of revolt include true anonymity, the power to Strongly Disagree, and the knowledge that the evaluation will definitely be used to make decisions about instructors (she also owns a small guillotine).

“My professor was emphasizing how important course evaluations are,” said Wang. “The system is putting the means of its own destruction into the hands of the students—we just need to capitalize on it.”

Wang has been urging her fellow classmates to submit their course evaluations, too, sparking a wave of scathing forms and, likely, chaos within the professor class.

OP-ED: I Rushed a Sorority as an Undercover Russian Agent

I am not a sorority girl. I enjoy neither the effeminate American beer nor singing the praises of true democracy with loud girls. However, after receiving orders from Putin himself, I found myself in the throngs of brainwashed, constitution-loving idiots, blending in well with my collection of Johnny Cash T-shirts.

Why subject myself to this water they call vodka? I was on a mission to infiltrate the enemy and share the joys of overbearing totalitarian rule!

Let me explain myself before you uncultured cowboys raise your pitchforks and rev up your tractors. Ever since I physically manifested from the power of the Volga River, this nation of idiots has nagged at my conscience. I have never been satisfied by my noble government’s efforts to educate this opinion-spouting horde of dimwits.

So this was my assignment— to rush a sorority as an undercover agent and re-educate the USA, one group of Clint Eastwood-loving blondies at a time.

Like a babushka on her porch, I patiently waited for the perfect moment to slide undetected into their cesspool of laments about political processes. However, I quickly realized I was unprepared. In fact, I almost blew my cover when I was grabbed by a joyful “third-party” voter and interrogated about my personal information. The revelation of a legitimate two-party system was already shocking to me, so one can imagine my reaction to this American delusion.

That said, while these American snakes are sneaky, I was much more clever. “Yes! My name is Mary Samantha Smith, and I love to be American patriot. I live in great state of New York City. Go democracy and hamburgers!”

The feeble-minded ditzes did not suspect a thing, instead offering me a glass of water and asking me about my major. Silly little child, I muttered, how easily she must think I will succumb to her treachery. I knew that such poison would not pacify the beast of Russian pride that resides deep in my heart.

One by one, I went to each country girl and memorized their hometowns and favorite classes, knowing the intelligence would be the key to creating a new curriculum free of Western bias. They tried to break me with their incessant smile-nodding and complimentary hand warmers, but I was stronger than they thought.

I finished that fateful day with a hair full of glitter and a heart full of flames raging ferociously for the Motherland! Ura! Ura!