Animal Science Junior Clayton Keane ’25 considers himself lucky. He gets to wake up every day and do his favorite thing: unsupervised barn time.
As the first to arrive & last to leave, Keane has taken advantage of every opportunity the program affords. He relishes the hands-on aspect of the curriculum, estimating that he has donated upwards of twenty chickens to science with his bare fists.
From a young age, Keane has been honing his sixth sense for the most vulnerable and nonverbal among us. His family reminisced on countless childhood trips to Petsmart. “I remember when he first got Peanut, his first hamster. And then Chewy, his second hamster. And Nibbles, his third…” recalled his mother fondly.
“He’s a lovely boy. He arranged for all sixteen of them to go to a little farm upstate. And now he’s finally joined them there,” she added.
Keane has spent the last few years getting to know the animals on the farm, cuddling, feeding, and handpicking the sacrificial lambs.
Keane’s zest for the discipline has not gone unnoticed by peers and professors. “I’m not entirely sure he understands that it’s the science of animals, not science on animals. Regardless, it shows that he’s willing to innovate with the curriculum” stated Sheep Management Professor Walter Atkins, observing that Keane “thinks outside the box” of the veterinary ethics code.
Three years into his studies, Keane is thinking bigger: He’s excited to graduate to equine studies. “I’m not trying to beat a dead horse here, but I would like to get my hands on one.”
THE CORNELL DAILY SUN—James Macintyre ‘25 takes his unpaid, full-time position at the Cornell Daily Sun very seriously. So, when he learned that he had forgotten to distribute the paper for the third week in a row, the pain of the Sun’s 25-ish dedicated readers weighed heavily on his shoulders.
As a result of Macintyre’s gross negligence, the Cornell Daily Sun readership – Macintyre’s supportive mother and a few professors—is currently lacking critical information. In the three weeks that Macintyre has missed distribution, nine separate OP-EDs calling for the abolishment of Cornell have been published, and the Student Assembly has done something also, apparently.
“How could campus have gone without the Sun for three weeks without noticing?” Macintyre asked. “If the New York Times or Fox News shut off for just a day everyone would notice. I don’t see how us journalists at THE Cornell Daily Sun are any different.”
Following his failure, the junior is struggling to reckon with his shortcomings. Due to his inaction, Macintyre fears no one will read the Sun anymore like everyone certainly did before.
“Usually when I distribute the paper, a whole dozen of people pick up the copy,” Macintyre reminisced. “Now, that number of 12 has dropped sharply to zero and it’s all my fault!”
DUFFIELD HALL—Information Science major Greg Daniels ‘24 was spotted Tuesday evening emerging from a cool, dark place bereft of direct sunlight. Unlucky bystanders scampered out of the splash zone as he made his way across Ho Plaza in a manner that can only be described as “spongy.”
Roommate Mike Meyers ‘25 noted that Daniels had been particularly saturated as of late, referencing last week’s record-high temperatures. “It’s weird though, we have A/C, but he was still somehow glistening?” mused Meyers.
“I don’t know how he manages to maintain a perpetual drip, especially since I’ve never actually heard the shower running when he’s home,” he continued, baffled by the enigmatic seepage.
Nearby students parted like the Red Sea as Daniels descended into Okenshields, many citing a loss of appetite. Onlookers recalled watching him beeline for the double cheeseburger pizza, shoes squelching with a marshy reverb.
In a particularly harrowing encounter, Daniels exchanged a pre-moistened homework assignment for a moment of eye contact from Kelsey Schneider ’25, before tripping over his shoelaces and adding he “meant to do that.” He retreated unceremoniously, leaving a puddle to remember him by.
WILLARD STRAIGHT HALL—Following the mass ostracization of last year’s Slope Day Programming Board, an entirely new set of victims, officially known as “members,” needed to be found. Fortunately, a group of students willing to impale themselves upon the unforgiving spear of dissatisfaction that is the student body have now been assembled.
“I shall relish in the animosity of my peers,” said Board President Joseph Dwyer ‘24, whose other on-campus involvements include going to Okenshields right at peak rush hour and standing next to big puddles while cars drive through them. “The wrath of campus must be borne by a noble few, and I feel lucky to count myself among them. Though our mission is doomed before we even begin, it is virtuous that we choose to push forward regardless.”
Despite the fact that the student body has definitively shown that the only thing it truly wants is to be unhappy, the Board continues to manufacture new surveys in order to discover the so-called “perfect headliner.” While such a performer has been written about at great length in scripture via Sidechat posts and angry Reddit threads, their true identity is impossible to determine. Whether this musical-messiah ever even existed, or can be found today, is a question that the Board chooses to ignore, remaining committed to their fruitless search.
“I would rather be lambasted for trying and failing than turn away from our quest,” explained Lyssa Ray ‘25, the Board’s Head of Artist Outreach. “The perfect headliner is out there and we will bring them to our campus. Everyone will be fully satisfied with the selection of artists, the food, and our decision making,” continued Ray, describing a situation that will never come to pass.
Even though this year’s Slope Day Board will undoubtedly be reviled by the student body come spring semester, they can hold onto the hope that if the artist they pick happens to become really famous at a later date, they will be held up as idols and used to defame that year’s Slope Day Board.
COLLEGETOWN–Noah Adamson ‘25, a new initiate at Delta Phi Chi fraternity, had hoped that his earthly horrors would cease after the pledging process. Yet, Noah’s mortal suffering has only heightened after a slightly-more-disturbing-than-normal Darty experience.
After crushing 3 soapy cherry flavored white claws, Noah claims to have been spoken to by a burning keg. Our Father and LORD (Vice Dean of the Office of Spirituality) revealed to Noah that in 3 days, He would unleash the foam machines of Collegetown, smothering the sinful people of Cornell in a torrent of festive mediocrity. “I uhh, was just dozing off on Labor Day weekend, when suddenly I heard a loud voice saying that ‘the foam shall rise and the sinful shall perish from the earth’. He then said I had to build an ark of gopherwood 50 cube-somethings wide,” recalled Noah. “I had to save 2 people of every major, before the foam came.”
Describing his vivid underwhelming prophecy, Noah claimed he saw thousands of day drinkers all over Collegetown, before a flash of red laser lights and the distinct sound of “No Hands” by Waka Flocka Flame. Then, the ground filled with cheap party foam, consuming the partiers, the other students, and then all the peoples of Ithaca.
When asked for comment, the LORD said: “And behold, I Myself am bringing foamwaters on the earth, to destroy from under heaven all flesh in which is the breath of life; everything that is on the earth shall be inconvenienced.”
Unfortunately, Noah did not set sail, as he was unable to identify literally any living soul enrolled in AAP. The impending flood will likely consume Collegetown, cleansing the dirty rushes once and for all.
SAGE ATRIUM—When Walter Pinker ‘27 emerged from his consulting club coffee chat with Isabella Mendez ‘26, he didn’t want to be a Classics major anymore. In fact, he also did not want to be straight, Catholic, white, or Walter, adopting the temporary moniker “WaPi” (wha-pee, something “more exotic”) while he positions himself to be the ultimate corporate diversity admit.
“I booked the Calendly appointment as a joke, you know? So I could live out the rest of my humanities major in peace, comforted by the tragedy of Cornellian souls doomed to perpetual corporate servitude. But then I found out about these diversity programs that fly students across the country to eat steak and make little consulting friends,” commented WaPi. “The Odyssey isn’t flying me across the country. And I like filet mignon.”
When probed further about what moved him to transform nearly his entire identity, WaPi cited Mendez’s success in already securing three separate post-grad job offers as a first semester sophomore, with only slightly delayed start dates of 2031, 2036, and 2048.
“She’s already so successful,” remarked WaPi. “Forget the cinematic dark academia main character I’m-better-than-you lifestyle of reading Virgil under a tree. It’s time to become an indispensable DEI statistic.”
WaPi is now on a crusade to tick all the corporate diversity boxes, hoping to secure himself a slot in one of the industry’s most coveted firms so he can lord it over everyone else. Isabella Mendez declined to comment, sharing only that WaPi made her sign an NDA etched in quill onto the back of The Iliad.
COLLEGETOWN—Saturday night festivities were in full swing last week and while some were busy with unproductive activities such as drinking and drugs, others were making some very public money moves. Power couple Angela Henderson ’25 and Eli Wilson ’24 spent their evening at Hideaway in a dark corner locking lips and grinding with abandon.
“Some may have signed your lease for next year. Others are on track to graduate a semester early. But you’re not really thinking about your future until you have considered the college prospects of your future children,” explained a smug Angela. “I mean, Cornell could be doing away with legacy admissions every day, so if you’re not actively working towards creating the perfect candidate for admissions, at all times, regardless of who else is watching, you’re a failure.”
Patrons report that when the two were not occupied by heavy petting sessions, Henderson and Wilson were bragging about having it all.
“So many people say that you can’t party and prepare for your future in college,” declared Wilson. “But by coming here tonight, Angela and I are proving that not only can we do both, we can do it in front of you.”
Wilson and Henderson are planning to announce baby Ezra’s summer 2042 internship with Goldman Sachs soon.
COLLEGETOWN—Motorists and pedestrians alike were left apathetic today after an accident involving a Volkswagen Golf and one particularly patient freshman waiting for his chance to cross College Avenue.
The license plate number of the vehicle responsible for the accident was traced to an apartment building 100 feet from the crosswalk in question. Its driver, Larry Hentz ‘24, was unaware of any wrongdoing. “I was on my way to pick up food from 7-Eleven,” stated Hentz, “But then I remembered Wings Over was having a sale so I popped a U-ie in that intersection to turn around, but I think I’d know if I hit someone.” When shown street camera footage of him doing exactly that, Hentz responded, “Oops. Oh my God that’s so crazy. Can you AirDrop that to me?”
Despite a shattered femur and a grade two concussion, the victim, Casey Rollins ‘27, opted not to press charges, stating “My home friends can’t know about this.” Rollins then begged investigators to delete all footage of the accident, as it depicted the moments after the collision, in which Rollins awkwardly fled the scene of the crime rather than suffer the embarrassment of waiting for someone to ask if he was okay.
One eyewitness, Doreen Zhang ‘24, suggested Rollins was actually culpable for the collision, blaming “the stupid freshman” for “just standing there like a dumbass.” When asked what experience she has to delegate blame in incidents such as this, Zhang simply responded, “I’m from the city.”
Construction crews are now hard at work to repair the damage caused by Rollins’ cranium’s collision with the sidewalk, with the project estimated to be complete by early 2027.
ARTS QUAD – Classes have officially begun, which means getting settled into routines, staving off mounting exhaustion, and spotting familiar faces around campus. For Elizabeth Valenciano ‘26, however, the start of classes would also bring about an uncomfortable surprise.
Valenciano and several of her friends were spotted leaving Goldwin Smith Hall when they were approached at an alarming speed by a fellow with a profoundly determined expression. “He ran toward us at full speed–I thought he was running late or maybe just a freshman or something–but then he started shouting ‘LIZ! LIZZYBETH! LIZZY!’” reported Ava Zhao ‘26.
“I was confused,” Valenciano later stated. “All my friends just call me Elizabeth.” As the boy advanced with a speed and intensity akin to a hyena descending upon a pack of gazelles, it became increasingly clear that the intended target of his eager gaze was, in fact, Valenciano.
According to Zhao, upon reaching them, the student exclaimed “Hey, where’s my hug, Liz! I haven’t seen you since last fall! Where’s my hug? Man, I really miss seeing you every week in FWS. Where’s my hug? That Feminism for All Genders was a real doozy, wasn’t it? Anyway, where’s my hug?” Zhao and the rest of Valenciano’s friends then watched on somberly as their dear friend was swallowed by the suffocating hug of the unidentified man.
At press time, Valenciano shared that she remains puzzled by the interaction and the identity of the student, never having taken an FWS before.