01c - cover.indd

GOLDEN WORDS
Page 2
Volume 41, Issue 23
Editorial
by Brendan
Stop Crying,
Brendan’s Home
Look, I’m not going to
sugar-coat this for you. I
shot Don and Imran and
then threw them in a sack
and then threw that sack
into a deep lake and then
shot my gun at the lake
a few times, just to be
certain. That’s how I got
this job. I became an editor
of Golden Words because I
am a murderer.
My name is Brendan
Hennessy. And up until
that night, I was just a
simple writer. Then, for
some reason, I became
crazy. Then, for a different
reason, I calmed down a
bit. Then I wrote this.
You readers must be
a p p r e h e n s i ve a b o u t
seeing so many unfamiliar
pictures and words on
this page, so I will try
and tell you what the new
editors are all about. I am
a quiet person who enjoys
fishing. Mike, on the other
hand, is a belligerent
drunk with no sense of
fashion. In fact, I’m pre�y
sure he’s out drinking
and wearing rainbow
suspenders right now.
“Hey ladies!” he says.
“Check out my silly pants
straps!” Then he raises
his eyebrows at them in
a seductive manner and
gets arrested.
(Note: Because of Mr.
Lesiuk’s current “mystery
status” I have been forced
to write his entire editorial
in addition to my own. I
sure hope I can do it right.
He threatened to hurt me
with his fists if I did it
wrong.)
B a s i c a l l y, t h e m o s t
important thing to know
about me is that I am very
lonely and sad. I have no
real friends and the only
people that are truly close
to me are either alcoholics
or murder victims. That is
why I want new people to
come out to Golden Words.
If people come to where
I’m the boss of them, then
surely they will have to be
friends with me, even if I
yell things at them or start
crying. And believe me, if
you work here there will
be plenty of that.
It is very easy to make
yourself a part of the GW
Team. (Or as I like to call
it, “Team Goldenwords:
Amazing Force.”) Just
come out to our comedy
place in Clark Hall. It’s on
the way to the pub, but
instead of going drinking,
you take a somber walk
down the hallway where
Golden Words is wri�en
in paint.
We need all kinds of
people because the ones
who normally do the stuff
are either graduating or
incredibly lazy! Why not
come down and help us
make this newspaper?
You’ll have fun, you’ll
eat free pizza and snacks,
and you won’t even have
to be an engineer! I’m
a history major! I think
engineers are jerks with
smelly jackets.
My First Editorial
But my ideas extend
far outside the realm of
comedy writing. One
time I walked right into
a photo-op with Hillary
Clinton, shook her hand,
and said, “Hey, here’s a
great idea: give me a giant
bag of candy.”
I got my bag of candy,
but I immediately sent
it back. I left Hillary a
note. It said, “No, Hillary
– bigger!” I just don’t
care which American
Golden Words, Clark Hall
Queen’s University, Kingston, ON, K7L 3N6
tel: 533-3051
fax: 533-6678
e-mail:enggw@post.queensu.ca
www.goldenwords.net
Come be a part of Golden Words!
If you can read this paragraph, you’re good enough for us.
All party people are welcome, regardless of year, faculty, or
discipline. You can join us for Press Nite(tm), which is held
(almost) every Sunday during the Fall and Winter terms in the
EngSoc Lounge (pretend you’re going to Clark Hall Pub, only
hang a right.) We kick start the crazy antics at noon and keep
on truckin’ until the paper is done (i.e. the wee hours of Monday
morning). Feel free to join in any time and hit us up with some
of that world-class humour of yours that we’ve been hearing so
much about. And since you’re being such a good sport, we’ll keep
your cage clean with freshly laid out newspaper, gently comb
your fur from time to time, and give you all the food pellets and
water you can eat! Those food pellets are pretty decent, so this
is a mighty sweet deal. Alternatively, you can submit articles by
e-mailing them to editors@goldenwords.net any old time you like.
Golden Words is published at least 24 times a year
by the Queen’s Engineering Society
Queen’s University, Kingston, Ontario, Canada
(9000 copies distributed free on campus)
The opinions expressed herein are not necessarily those of the Queen’s Engineering
Society nor of its members. Unless otherwise stated, all submitted material is the
property of Golden Words and is reviewed by the editors in accordance with the
2006-2007 editorial policy, which is available on request. The editors reserve the
right to make final editing decisions. Any complaints or issues regarding the content
of this paper should be forwarded to the chair of the Golden Words Editorial Review
Board. All issues will be dealt with within one week. If the complainant, the editors
or the chair are not content with the proposed solution, a meeting of the Golden
Words Editorial Review Board will be convened. Please contact Erin Collins at
GWERBChair@goldenwords.net or (613) 533-3051 to lodge a complaint or comment.
Golden Words is not intended for persons under the age of 18.
by Mike
Let me tell you, I strolled
into my interview for
Golden Words Editor,
shook the hand of the
Engineering Society’s Vice
President of Operations,
and said, “Hey, here’s a
great idea: give me this
job and I won’t murder
you.”
Volume XLI
Issue XXIII
March 21st, 2007
Proudly printed in Canada by
1000 Islands Publishers
A Division of Osprey Media LP
79 King Street East
Gananoque, ON
K7G 1E8
Contents © 2007 Golden Words
Editorial
Hey, what’s up? I’m Mike.
I’m one of the new editors,
and I got this job because
I’m an idea man.
Sola Veritas est qui Facit ut me in Merda
politicians I have to
harass; I want a giant bag
of candy, okay?
One time my grade school
teacher asked me if I had
any ideas for the school
play, and I said, “Sherlock
Holmes eats a booger and
then he solves the case of
the idiot babysi�er.” Yes sir,
I’ve always been full of
great ideas, and I might
just have a few ideas for
this paper. Allow me to
explain:
I think those interviews
we do with the AMS
candidates are always
funny, and so I think we
could do more interviews
in general. What does
Karen Hitchcock have to
say? Can she beat the Dean
of Engineering in shotfor-shot? Furthermore,
can she beat up the Dean
of Engineering? What if
we give her a baseball
bat and tie the Dean of
Engineering to a chair?
What if we rough him
up a bit first? What if we
stick a sock in his mouth
and shove a hungry
yet moderately horny
squirrel down his pants?
These are all questions
that I can only assume the
people want answered.
I’d like to see some more
recurring themes in
articles, or even columns.
For example, every week
I think we could print a
really bizarre dream a
writer has recently had,
or we could print another
of their stupid ideas for
Hollywood movies. A
few days ago I actually
had a dream where I was
in Hollywood eating a
basket of fruit. I munched
on apricots while bags
of sugar wearing saucy
bikinis tortured Mel
Gibson. I guess that this
would be a good time to
admit that I really hate
Mel Gibson.
Anyways, let me know
what you think of my
ideas. Are they great?
Are they crap? Do you
have better ones? Do
you want to write about
your stupid LSD-induced
dreams? Email us at
editors@goldenwords.
net. We want to hear from
you! We do! Or, even
be�er, come in on Sunday
to the Clark Hall lounge.
We’re always looking
for new writers or new
layout staff.
Don’t worry. I know
you’re scared. But we’re
very, very nice and we
have free pizza and
cookies. And sometimes
I bring bagels, peanut
bu�er, and my toaster. So
come and hang out with
us and write jokes about
boogers. Please?
Brendan Hennessy
Mike Lesiuk
Editors
To be determined
To be determined
Operations Manager
Sarah Chan
Kasia Kmiec
To be determined
Business Manager
14h30 - 16h30 Mardi (France)
Editorial Staff
Copy Editor
Layout Editor
Assistant Layout Editor
Layout Monkey
Graphics Editor
Senior Staff Writer
Staff Writer
Editor Emeritus
Carlie McCann
Erin Marchak
Dominic Dobrzensky
Mark Condos
Wyanne Tsang
A.J. Packman
Erin Robinson
Imran Zaidi
Production Staff
Distribution Managers
Special Events
Cartoonists
IT Manager
Webmasters
Business Team
Contributing Writers
Anthony Howell
Ibrahim Zylstra
Kara Fowlie
Jessica Jerez
Tory Shoreman
Andrea Gertsmann
Evelien Heijselaar
Alain Vandendorpe
Harley Balabanian
Curtis Stone
Zayed Ahmad
Peter Blouw
Carey O’Connor
Mark Condos
Alex Crosby
Steve Vickers
GOLDEN WORDS
IS HIRING!
Turn to page 5, readers!
y
Stor time
Wordsday, March 21st, 2007
(It’s story time in Mrs. Greer’s grade 6 class.)
Mrs. Greer: Class, today we’re going to try something
new and different!
Kaitlyn: Is that why you made us sit in a circle?
Mrs. Greer: Yes! Today, we’re going to write our own
story – together! I’ll start, and then Madison, si�ing
to my le�, will continue the story, and Kaitlyn, to her
le�, will add to it, and so on! It’ll be fun! Okay, here
goes: “Once upon a time…” Madison?
GOLDEN WORDS
Brianna: Um… all right. What was the last
thing Randy said?
Randy: Lieutenant Cerberon jerked off into a dickport and uploaded a deadly computer virus to the
Kilraithi armada.
Brianna: Right.
Randy: With his dick.
Madison: Okay. Once upon a time… there was a…
um… a castle, on top of a big tall mountain, so tall
that it went above the clouds…
Brianna: Gotcha. So, um… the virus killed all the
aliens and the space ba�le was over. The captain of the
spaceship breathed a sigh of relief and started thinking
of his wife back home on Earth, who was a beautiful
princess in a castle above the clouds.
Mrs. Greer: Great! Kaitlyn?
Mrs. Greer: Thank you, Brianna. Great job. Alyssa?
Kaitlyn: … and… uh… in the castle there lived a
beautiful princess…
Alyssa: The princess was thinking about her husband
too, because she loved him so much and he was always
in space, fighting aliens.
Mrs. Greer: Excellent! Randy?
Randy: … but the princess was ugly and boring.
Meanwhile, in space: KABOOM! Commander Dylan
Zylmar of the Terran Defense Force detonated another
antima�er warhead next to the hull of the Kilraithi
deathsphere! But the awesome space ba�le was far
from over – there was still a squadron of enemy
hunter-killer drones headed right for the Terran ship!
“Aw, matrices,” cursed Commander Zylmar—
Mrs. Greer: Um, Randy—
Randy: … Hang on. – “Aw, matrices,” cursed
Commander Zylmar to his first officer, Lieutenant
Cerberon, who was an android with a computer
instead of a dick. “What do we do now?” But Cerberon
just smiled and said, “You leave that to me, sir,” and
he stuck his computer-dick in a dick-port and jerked
off into it and uploaded a deadly computer virus to
the Kilraithi armada—
Mrs. Greer: Randy! That’s enough. Brianna, you’re
next.
Page 3
Randy: (raising his hand) Um, excuse me. Nobody said
they were aliens.
Alyssa: What?
Randy: You guys keep calling the Kilraithis aliens. But
I see them more as a race of intelligent robots, possibly
ones created by the human race itself. You know, like
the Cylons on Ba�lestar Galactica? That’s why I referred
to hunter-killer drones. I never mentioned aliens.
Alyssa: Who cares?
Randy: Oh, gosh, I’m sorry. Am I the only one who
wants this story to be self-consistent?
She wondered if one of them was the light reflecting
off her husband’s spaceship.
Mrs. Greer: Emma, that’s beautiful. Isabella?
Emma: I’m not done. – She wondered if one of them
was her husband’s spaceship, and she also wondered
if her husband would ever discover her terrible secret:
that she was a Kilraithi spy.
(Mrs. Greer looks confused. Randy perks up, suddenly
interested.)
Emma: For beneath her beautiful skin lay the
indestructible endoskeleton of an enemy war-droid.
Would Commander Zylmar ever find out about her
continuous neural uplink to the Kilraithi cyberframe?
Would he ever peel back her fingernails and see the
flickering nano-circuits beneath?
(Emma locks eyes with Randy.)
Emma: In any of their countless nights of unforge�able
lovemaking, would he ever feel the cold, hard metal
of her computer-dick?
Mrs. Greer: All right—
Alyssa: Look, you stupid freak—
Emma: Take me, Randy.
Mrs. Greer: No, no, Randy’s right. Let’s be careful
about how we refer to the Kilraithis from now on.
They’re sentient machines and not living organisms.
Mrs. Greer: Story time is over.
(Randy folds his arms smugly.)
Kaitlyn: Mrs. Greer, I think you need to seriously
reevaluate your teaching priorities.
Brianna: Oh my God. Can we start over?
Mrs. Greer: Anyway. You’re next, Emma.
Mrs. Greer: (sighing) No. We can’t. It’s the rules.
Emma: The princess looked out the window of her
castle. It was nigh�ime and the stars were coming out.
Randy: I want your dick, Emma.
Mrs. Greer: Yes.
Gladys Newell
Genghis Don
Page 4
Interviewer #1: Well, Rebecca, I think we’ve got
a pre�y good idea what kind of a don you would
make.
Rebecca: (perkily) Sure!
Interviewer #1: Do you have any questions about
the job or anything you would really like us to know
about you?
Rebecca: (flailing her arms excitedly) OH MY GOD, YES!
I AM LIKE TOTALLY EXCITED ALL THE TIME, SO,
LIKE TOTALLY HIRE ME! WHOOOOO!
(Rebecca is indeed totally excited. She is so excited, in
fact, that she jumps out of her chair and dances her way
out the door.)
Interviewer #2: Wow, I felt a lot of positive energy
coming from her.
Interviewer #1: Oh yeah, like I totally felt her spirit
or whatever flowing through me, you know what I
mean?
Interviewer #2: Yeah, it was like totally humping my
leg or something.
Interviewer #1: (nodding) Oh, me too. For sure. It
was totally humping my leg. Anyway, who do we
have up next?
Interviewer #2: (rifling through papers reading) It says
here we’ve got a ‘Mr. Khan.’
(Genghis Khan bursts into the room, riding a fearsome
warhorse and screaming war cries. He fires several arrows
in the direction of the interviewers before dismounting
with a flourish and calmly si�ing down.)
Interviewer #1: (cautiously ge�ing up from under
the table) Wow… that was quite an entrance, Mr.
Khan!
Interviewer #2: (clapping) I hope you show that
kind of enthusiasm in your role as a don!
Genghis Khan: (grunts)
Interviewer #2: Well, Genghis, first, let me tell you
that you have a very impressive resume. (reading)
Son of the great chief, Yesukai; unifier of all the
Mongolian tribes; conqueror of China and Persia;
and founder of the largest land-based empire the
world has ever seen.
Interviewer #1: Wow! That sounds like it takes time
management. (turning to Interviewer #2) I think time
management is really key.
Interviewer #2: (nodding) Mmmhmmm, that is so
true.
(Genghis Khan pulls out a knife and slams it into
the table angrily.)
Genghis Khan: (irritated) Proceed with
INTERVIEW!
Interviewer #2: Wow! Such initiative! I
like it. Alright, Genghis, this is what we
like to call a ‘situational question.’ We’re
going to give you a specific scenario, and
we’d like you to tell us how you think you
would handle it. Are you ready?
Genghis Khan: (growls provocatively)
GOLDEN WORDS
Interviewer #2: Okay, here’s the situation. It is your
first floor meeting and you are trying to teach your
students about respecting the rules in residence.
What do you think is the most effective way of
communicating this?
Genghis Khan: When Genghis encounter new enemy,
he slaughter entire village and pile skulls up in big
mountain outside gates. I WILL TEACH OTHERS
THE PRICE OF RESISTANCE! RARRRGH! (fires
arrow into wall)
Volume 41, Issue 23
Genghis Khan: First, surround party to cut off food
supply –
Interviewer #1: (shaking head) No, you’ve already tried
that. They have a fully functional, self-sustaining
economy. It would take over a year to starve them
out, and you’ve still got rounds to do. What do you
do next, Genghis?
Genghis Khan: (thinking) Uhhhhhh… ummmm.
Genghis bring in Chinese siege weapons to –
Interviewer #1: (writing and nodding) Wow that is
really creative and unique!
Interviewer #1: (sighing) All of your Chinese siege
engineers are on their break. Now what?
Interviewer: #2: Mmmhmm, that is so true. Alright,
here’s your second question, Mr. Khan. It is past quiet
hours and a number of your residents are talking
loudly in the hallways. What do you do?
Genghis Khan: Situation is ridiculous! None can defy
Genghis Khan! I conquered all Asia!
Genghis Khan: RIP OUT TONGUES! THEN, FEED
TONGUES TO THEIR CHILDREN! THEN, KILL
THEIR CHILDREN!
Interviewer #1: (still writing and nodding) An example
of very effective communication!
(Genghis Khan beams with pride.)
Interviewer #2: Mmmhmm, that is so true. Alright,
Genghis, here’s your last question. While on rounds,
you come across a pre�y large party in one of the
rooms. You hear a lot of noise coming from the
room, and it appears that there are a large number of
people inside partying. When you approach the door,
they refuse to let you in. What do you do?
Interviewer #1: Well, that may be, but this isn’t “all
Asia.” We’re dealing with first years here. Now, what
do you do? Time is an issue here, Genghis.
Genghis Khan: (flustered) Uhhhh… well… uhhh…
Genghis set fire to room?
Interviewer #1: (sighing) They have highly organized
fire brigades within the room, and you sustain heavy
casualties from their archers during your raid. Morale
has suffered greatly, and you now have a potential
mutiny on your hands. Really, Mr. Khan, I don’t know
why you’re finding this so difficult. Considering
your breadth of experience, this should be a simple
ma�er.
Interviewer #2: Mmmhmm, that is so true.
(Genghis Khan breaks down and begins to
sob before running out of the room.)
Interviewer #1: (shaking his head) I’m
afraid he’s just not don material.
Interviewer #2: Mmmhmm, that is
so true.
Interviewer #1: Who do we have
up next?
Interviewer #2: (reading) It looks
like we have a Mr. Hun next.
Mr. A�ila the Hun, the Scourge
of God.
Interviewer #1: (bored)
Whatever.
Banana Hammock
Smoothee
Wordsday, March 21st, 2007
GOLDEN WORDS
Local Man “Tired of Being Followed”
Since the publishing of the report, the House of
Commons has been pushing legislation to fund
technology that will “rob people of their most
precious memories while they sleep.”
KINGSTON - Jeremy Albertson, a 37 year old
Kingstonian, lashed out at reporters yesterday,
saying, “I’m tired of reporters following me around
everywhere. Get out of my bushes!”
Man’s Floor is Made of Lava
Albertson’s abuse of reporters has been going on for
several weeks, and includes yelling, abusive language,
and threatening lawsuits over frivolous, made-up
issues such as “invasion of privacy” or “breaking and
entering.” He has also threatened libel lawsuits over
quotes which he has described as “out of context,”
a�er which he said “[He was] going to… beat… a
child.”
LIVERPOOL – Raymond Wells, 34, has recently
been discovered living in a house with floors that he
describes as “lava.”
When asked how he came to be living in this state, he
told reporters “One day when I was five years old, I
was si�ing on the floor watching TV when my sister
came down the stairs with an eerie grin on her face
and said, ‘The floors are made of lava! Get on the
furniture or you’re dead!’ Well, I jumped on the couch
and I’ve been living like this ever since.”
Channel Six News, the station which initially started
tailing Jeremy, say they “Aren’t sure why [they] started
following him, but it probably had something to do
with him being abusive to the journalists we sent to
follow him.”
While there is no conclusive evidence yet, infrared
video of Albertson’s house reveals that he used the
washroom six times yesterday, suggesting that his
hatred of journalists may be due to an overactive
bladder.
Study Reveals that Only Poor are “Truly Rich”
TOKYO – A recent study by Japanese scientists
suggests that those we consider wealthy are actually
poor, and vice versa. Chief researcher in the study,
Dr. Yamada Taro explains, “Poor people have lived
lives full of emotional highs and lows, or ‘Emotobucks’ as I call them, giving them a wealth in life
experience that members of the upper class cannot
afford, having squandered their lives in the pursuit
of ‘Regular-bucks.’”
Page 5
Professional aristocrat Reginald Mason agrees with
the finding. “I sit here all day yelling at unimportant
people to do things like buy stocks or sell real estate
or crush the dreams of a street urchin for a lark, and
I rack up all sorts of cash for doing it. But at the end
of the day, those people do all sorts of stuff I just don’t
have time for; mend baby birds’ broken wings, teach
blind children to read, love women, or win trips to
chocolate factories. I’ve tried hiring people to lead
exciting and fulfilling lives for me, but it doesn’t seem
to be working. Maybe I can buy some birds and step
on their wings.”
Financial analysts are taking notice, including Jeff
Feldspar, a man with a cheap suit and an expensive
haircut. “It’s amazing,” he told reporters yesterday.
“The government has gone years operating on a
shoestring budget without even considering spiritual
or emotional taxes.”
“It’s not so bad, though,” he said, while leaping from
an end table to a cabinet, “I’ve lived this way practically
my entire life, so I don’t really know anything else.
One by one, my family started disappearing, and now
I’m the only one le�.” Mr. Wells then worked his
way from the cabinet to the sink and poured himself
a glass of water.
While Raymond a�ributes the disappearance of his
family to “touching the lava and dying,” evidence
suggests that his sister moved away seventeen years
earlier to a�end university. His parents passed away
in the late 90s, most likely due to falling into lava.
Local authorities are currently investigating whether
or not the unusual flooring constitutes a zoning
violation.
Rembrandt Q. Uppercrust
GOLDEN WORDS
Page 6
Volume 41, Issue 23
Édouard Learns English
(The instructor of a foreign language course is giving
Ėdouard a private session. Let’s listen in!)
Édouard: A yav deseyedid tobai damun.
Instructor: “The moon is in the sky.”
Instructor: “Hey! Kid! Get out of here! This is my
moon!”
Édouard: Damun ease indaskai.
Édouard: Haykeed! Gidowddaheer! Deesiz mymun!
Instructor: “I am going to the moon.”
Instructor: “Come back here! Those are my moon
shoes!”
Édouard: A yam goyng todamun.
(The instructor’s boss enters.)
Instructor: “My, the moon is lovely today!”
Édouard: Maitha muniz loufflee todai!
Boss: Johnson! You’re not doing teaching this man
any of your moon sentences, are you?
Instructor: “I have decided to buy the moon.”
Instructor: No sir. Of course not.
Boss: (pauses; eying the instructor with suspicion) All
right, then. But remember: if I hear you telling one
more client about the moon child who wants to steal
your moon shoes or how your moon car was stolen
by the moon king, you’re ou�a here. Got it?
Instructor: Of course, sir. I’ll get back to the lesson
now. (addressing Édouard) “Where is the bus?”
Édouard: Ware izdabuss?
Boss: That’s be�er. (leaves)
Instructor: “That darn moon bus is late every day.
Curse the moon king!”
Flying Fox of the Yard
Hank is
Really
into the
Movie
300
(Terry knocks on the front door of Hank’s
house. Hank opens the door, glaring.)
Terry: Hi, are you Hank Willins?
(Hank glares menacingly at Terry.)
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Terry: Umm… okay. I’m Terry Baker, a
representative from the city. It seems your
car is parked in front of a fire hydrant,
so you need to move it, or we’ll have to
fine you.
Hank: You bring the crowns and heads of
conquered kings to my city’s steps. You
insult my queen. You threaten my people
with slavery and death!
Terry: Uh… no, sir. You just have to move
your car. Just, like, three feet.
Hank: I’ve chosen my words carefully,
Persian. Perhaps you should have done
the same.
Terry: Look, I’m not— (sighing) Jesus,
this is stupid.
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Hank: Stupid? THIS! IS! 148
MAPLEWOOD AVENUE!
(Hank kicks Terry into a huge hole in the
middle of the lawn.)
Terry: (at the bo�om of the hole) Oh, that
reminds me: if you want to keep this hole
in your yard, you’ll need a safety rail or
something.
Flying Fox of the Yard
Wordsday, March 21st, 2007
GOLDEN WORDS
Page 7
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for you, so that you can do
the same for others.
Community Services
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Now that you’ve graduated with a degree in Psychology or Sociology, you may be looking for an
opportunity to develop an area of specialization. Our postgraduate and fast-track programs take
your theoretical knowledge and lets you apply it in a hands-on learning environment. With our
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Visit us online to sign up for an information session today, and
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To register for your information session,
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For program information, go to georgebrown.ca/postgrad
Page 8
GOLDEN WORDS
Volume 41, Issue 23
Wordsday, March 21st, 2007
GOLDEN WORDS
Page 9
BASKETBALL
A Part of our Canadian Heritage
(Springfield, Massachuse�s, 1891. Canadian fitness instructor
James Naismith has invented a game called basketball. Unfortunately, it’s still poorly understood, even by those he’s teaching to
play it.)
Naismith: Oh, really? (Takes a sleek-looking laptop out of his knapsack.) WITNESS THE FUTURE!
Naismith: No, no, Frank, don’t carry the ball! Dribble it!
Dribble it!
(He starts playing a video on the laptop. It’s a high-definition broadcast of a modern-day NBA game. Hip-hop music blares as an eight foot
tall Chinese guy executes a slam dunk in front of thirty thousand
screaming fans.)
(Not comprehending, Frank bobbles the ball between his hands.)
Willard: NO! MAKE IT STOP!
Naismith: Aw, heck. Just shoot!
Pete: MY BRAIN IS MELTING!
(Frank aims and shoots. The ball lands square in the wooden
basket.)
Joseph: GOD SAVE ME! GOD IN HEAVEN! AGGGGHHH!
Frank: Is this some kind of Canadian joke, sir? I mean, I
know you’re the instructor and everything, but if we can’t
carry the ball, how can we get a decent shot at the, uh…
(smirks) peach basket?
(Everyone laughs at Naismith’s expense. Old Man Mills climbs
his rickety ladder to retrieve the ball.)
Old Man Mills: And Mr. Naismith, sir – it sure slows things
down having to climb up here every time.
Naismith: Well then, let’s cut a hole in the bo�om of the
basket.
Old Man Mills: But I need these baskets back.
(Naismith is irritated. He fumes silently for several seconds. Then,
all of a sudden, something inside him snaps.)
Naismith: Okay. Okay. You know what? I have had it up to
here with you retards. (Fires a gun in the air.) EVERYBODY
AGAINST THE WALL!
(Naismith fires his gun in the air.)
Naismith: Frost up, idiots. Now you know what the stakes are.
A century from now, basketball will be played by hundreds of
millions of people all over the world, and they’ll all think it was
me, James Naismith, that invented it. This very day will be
wri�en about by the future’s greatest minds. But only if Frank…
(Fires gun.) Learns! (Fires gun.) HOW! (Fires gun.) TO! (Fires gun.)
DRIBBLE!
(He kicks a basketball at Frank and points his gun at Willard.)
Naismith: Dribble it, Frank. Dribble it or Willard dies.
(Frank hesitates. Naismith cocks his gun.)
Willard: (crying) Just dribble it, Frank. I don’t know what it
means either but just do it.
(Frank takes a deep breath and concentrates as hard as he can. He then
starts bobbling the ball between his hands, exactly like before.)
Frank: Say. Say, I’m doin’ it! Is this good enough, sir?
(Everyone stares at him, terrified.)
Naismith: (sighing) Fucking retards.
Naismith: NOW!
(He moves to shoot Willard, but before he can pull the trigger, someone
clocks him from behind with a peach basket. It’s Old Man Mills.)
(The basketball players get against the wall. Old Man Mills starts
climbing down from his ladder.)
Naismith: Not you, Mills. (Tosses him a saw.) You’re gonna
cut me a hole in that basket like I said, you understand?
Old Man Mills: But I need these baskets ba—
(BANG! Naismith shoots Old Man Mills in the gut, sending him
flying off the ladder onto the hard wooden floor. He wipes the blood
off his pants and turns to the basketball players.)
Naismith: That’s how it goes: sass me and you die. I didn’t
come here all the way from the year 2017 to listen to a bunch
of 19th century screwheads tell me why I can’t invent
basketball.
Willard: So he is from the future! Frank! Hey, Frank! You
owe me six bits!
Frank: I’m not buying it. Say, Mr. Naismith: who’s president
in 2017?
Naismith: Eliot Spitzer.
Frank: Never heard of him. You’re lyin’!
Old Man Mills: (barely alive) I’ll… need… that… basket…
back…
Naismith: Fuck you, old man! Die like you’re supposed to!
(The two of them struggle. Naismith tries to punch Mills in the face
but the old man manages to block his arm. The basketball players watch
them dumbly, mouths agape.)
Old Man Mills: (dying) Help… please…
(Thinking fast, Frank whips the basketball at Naismith. It slams into a
time travel control device a�ached to his wrist. Naismith disappears in
a flash of light; Old Man Mills collapses to the ground; the basketball
falls to the floor and bounces up and down. While everyone else rushes
to help Mills, Frank is mesmerized by the bouncing ball. He walks over
and picks it up and sees if he can bounce it himself. He can. He grins
and starts dribbling it a li�le.)
Frank: Say. Say, this is fun.
Gladys Newell
Page 10
GOLDEN WORDS
Volume 41, Issue 23
GOLDEN WORDS
Erin Grievances
Wordsday, March 21st, 2007
Page 11
By Erin Robinson
(It’s a pun)
Why hello there. My name is Erin, but around
here I’m known as “IvyClimber.” I do most of the
comics in the paper, and sometimes I’m allowed
to sit at the computer and type things. I stumbled
into Golden Words way back in 2004, a�er my frosh
group abandoned me on the front steps.
“Go on, you’re free now,” said my Gael as she
slowly backed away. “They’ll take good care of you
here. You can make as many cynical comments as
you want without crushing anyone’s spirit.”
Erin Robinson
“Are you allowed to do this?” I asked, looking
around. “I don’t know how to get to my residence
from here!”
“It’s your own fault for telling the other frosh about
the unemployment rate for arts graduates,” she said. “Just look at Todd. He’s
teaching himself to weave in order to earn supplemental income.”
“Hold on, I can explain…” I said, but it was too late.
“NOW!” shouted my Gael. A moment later I saw what looked like a dozen fistfuls
of Shinerama pennies flying at my head.
When I came to, I was writing a comic about two wisecracking dinosaurs, and
one of the editors told me I was doing a heck of a job. It was the birth of my
comedy career.
These days I spend almost 24 hours a week at the paper, slightly less than the time
I spend convincing my parents that I’m actually going to class. I’m ge�ing pre�y
good at deceiving them. We’re into year three, and I’ve woven an elaborate lie about
my involvement with a paragovernmental group that takes me on confidential
missions around the world. Typically I’ll throw in something about a plane crash
to explain why I wasn’t able to answer my phone for a day. This year I’m thinking
about introducing the tail section survivors.
When I’m not at Golden Words I go to a bunch of psychology lectures. For someone
who studies memory, I’m remarkably bad at remembering things like “deadlines”
and “what day it is.” By the way, if you would like to either supervise my thesis
or give me a place to live next year please let me know ASAP.
Some other random facts about me: I like fractals, I enjoy a good bagel now and
then, and sometimes I wear headphones that aren’t plugged into anything so I
can eavesdrop at the Tim Horton’s. It’s not as creepy as it sounds. You learn a lot
about people who you wouldn’t normally get a chance to talk to. I’ll let you in on
a li�le secret: a lot of people are very boring.
That’s all for now. I’ll try to do this column thing every week, and maybe I can
distract you from a few Wednesday morning classes this year. It’ll be pre�y weird
having a human audience, because usually the only ones who have to listen to me
are my teddy bears. Don’t worry, though, I won’t let all this fame go to my head.
I put my bra on one boob at a time just like everybody else.
Page 12
GOLDEN WORDS
Volume 41, Issue 23
Unstoppabull
(Gonzalez is a matador. Fox is his newly-hired
apprentice.)
Churchgoer 2: (reading) “If a bull gores a man or
woman to death, the bull must be stoned.”
Gonzalez: (cracking knuckles) All right, pally. Let’s
tango.
Gonzalez: (pe�ing a bull) There’s not much to this job,
really. You just have to remember a couple of things:
always keep your cool, and above all, never spook
the bull.
Churchgoer 1: Ha ha. That bull was stoned? I love
church.
(The bull bursts through the treeline and rushes directly
toward him. He unfurls a red cape and gazes into the bull’s
eyes.)
Fox: What? I can’t hear you, on account of this music
I’m listening to. Instead of taking off my headphones,
I will simply unplug them.
(He pulls the headphone plug out of his stereo. Very loud
music can suddenly be heard.)
Justin Timberlake: SHE’S GOT ME LOVE STONED,
MAN I SWEAR SHE’S BAD AND SHE KNOWS, I
THINK THAT SHE KNOWS…
Gonzalez: No! Stop the music! STOP THE MUSIC!
(The bull becomes agitated. It breaks loose from its harness,
explodes out of its pen, and takes off running out of the
stadium.)
Gonzalez: Oh dear God. You have no idea what
you’ve done.
(The bull continues running in a straight line, never
slowing or stopping. It runs through rush hour traffic and
causes six accidents. It runs through a schoolyard and past
a gas station and into a church parking lot.)
Minister: And so, we turn our a�ention to Exodus
21:28…
(The bull keeps running, onto a university campus and
into a lecture hall.)
Al Gore: (delivering lecture) … which brings us to the
irrefutable conclusion that this level of climate change
could only be caused by human activity.
Student 1: Bull!
Al Gore: Oh, you think so? Been hearing a few fairy
tales from our friends in the oil industry, have you? I
suppose it’s difficult to understand something when
your salary depends on your not understanding it.
Student 2: Dude, you just got Gored.
(Student 1 is gored by the bull.)
Student 2: Dude…
(The bull keeps running. It can’t be stopped. It runs for days
and days. It causes millions of dollars worth of damage and
injures scores of people. Eventually, a�er running hundreds
of miles, it reaches the Pacific coast.)
Beachgoer 1: (squeezing out tan lotion) So have you
heard about this bull?
Beachgoer 2: Of course. It’s all over the news.
(The bull smashes through the wall of the church. Everybody
screams and runs for cover.)
Beachgoer 1: (spreading lotion on self) I can’t believe it
killed the Secretary of Defense.
Minister: (adjusting bifocals) What is this? What’s the
commotion?
(A helicopter approaches. It is colored bright red. From
its loudspeakers, a booming voice addresses the crowd of
beachgoers.)
(He is gored by the bull, which then smashes through the
opposite wall and leaves the church.)
Churchgoer 1: Aw, man, don’t leave me hanging. I
wanna know what Exodus 21:28 says.
(The guy si�ing next to him flips through his Bible.)
Voice: ATTENTION. ATTENTION. THIS IS A
BULLFIGHTING OPERATION. PLEASE EVACUATE
THE PREMISES. REPEAT, PLEASE EVACUATE.
(The crowd sca�ers. Gonzalez, the matador, is lowered from
the helicopter, along with a large bull and an aging cow.)
Gonzalez: Hey there, Chicho. Remember me?
(The bull snarls and continues charging toward him.)
Gonzalez: Apparently not. But surely you remember…
your parents?
(He steps aside, revealing the two bovines that were lowered
from the helicopter. The bull stops in its tracks, u�erly
stunned.)
Gonzalez: They’re very ashamed of you, Chicho. They
didn’t raise you to run in a westward line across the
continent of North America and gore everything in
your path.
(The older bull stares at Chicho sternly. The cow just
shakes her head in disgust. Chicho hangs his head. It’s
over. Gonzalez looks up at the helicopter, where Fox, his
apprentice, has been si�ing and watching.)
Gonzalez: See, Fox? Piece of cake.
Fox: WHAT? I CAN’T HEAR YOU! HANG ON!
(He unplugs his headphones. Music starts blasting from
the helicopter’s loudspeakers.)
Justin Timberlake: THOSE FLASHING LIGHTS
COME FROM EVERYWHERE! THE WAY THEY HIT
HER I JUST STOP AND STARE!
Gonzalez: No! NO!
Justin Timberlake: SHE’S GOT ME LOVE STONED,
MAN I SWEAR SHE’S BAD AND SHE KNOWS, I
THINK THAT SHE KNOWS…
(Chicho and his parents become agitated. All three of them
scream with rage and take off running eastward.)
Gonzalez: Oh dear God.
Gladys Newell
Gl bal
Therm
nuclear
war
(Moscow, 1983. Deep in a Soviet bunker, a group of highlevel military commanders go over American nuclear
targets. Conveniently, they all speak English, albeit with
heavy Russian accents.)
Fetyukov: Everyone is here? Good. Let’s begin.
(Points to a map of the United States.) So: first nuclear
missile hits New York…
Gopchik: Wait. Which one is New York?
Tyurin: New York – you know, World Trade Center,
Empire State Building, White House…
Buynovsky: No, no, White House is not New York.
White House is Chicago, where they make the
Hollywood movies.
Tyurin: Oh. I like American movies. Network, Annie
Hall, Taxi Driver…
Gopchik: Taxi Driver is in Chicago? Chicago has li�legirl prostitutes played by Linda Blair?
Tyurin: No! Idiot. Li�le-girl prostitute played by
Jodie Foster! You know – from Bugsy Malone, Freaky
Friday, Star Wars…
Buynovsky: Ah, Star Wars! When does third Star
Wars come out? Uh… what is title… Revenge of the
Jedi?
Gopchik: What? Impossible, Buynovsky! Jedi do not
make revenge! Jedi fight honorably!
Buynovsky: Hey, look, I read title in Empire
Magazine, okay? So suck egg. I hope you suck Russian
egg and there is other egg inside.
Gopchik: Mother fuck, Buynovsky! Let’s fight!
(Gopchik and Buynovsky start to fight. Gopchik pulls
Buynovsky’s hair and pokes at his eyes.)
Buynovsky: Agggh! I thought Jedi fight honorably!
Gopchik: Who said I am Jedi, stupid?!
Fetyukov: Hey, hey! (Raps the two of them with
his pointing stick.) Listen closely: if Soviet Union
collapses, it is your fault. Understand?
(Gopchik and Buynovsky separate and nod somberly.)
Fetyukov: Good. So: first nuclear missile hits New
York…
Gladys Newell
Wordsday, March 21st, 2007
GOLDEN WORDS
Page 13
Things You Need to Know
• Honey sold in plastic bears isn’t a
cheap advertising gimmick, it’s actually
a throwback to the days of yore when
the first se�lers would have to squeeze
fresh honey out of bears by hand.
• Yo-Yo Ma once bowed frozen tears
of beauty from the strings of his cello
and gave them to Clint Eastwood, for
he is a purebred cowboy, born with no
tears of his own.
• Since those antennae on snails
aren’t made for picking up TV or
radio, we must assume they’re for
reading people’s thoughts. Obviously,
snails are perverts who are privy to
Hollywood’s sexiest secrets.
• If you printed the entire internet out
on paper and laid the pieces end to end,
you’d run out of toner way before you
even finished.
• Superheroes may seem great, but
if you take away their powers and
fame and give them a shi�y job with
whiny co-workers and an asshole boss
Thi
who always calls them in to work on
weekends, they’re just me.
• If you had no legs, you’d be able to
wear a purse as overalls. Stylish!
• If you ever discover a new strain of
bacteria, you should name it “Fear”
and use it as evidence that a “culture
of fear” exists in our country today.
Nobody will doubt you, because even
if it’s just a technicality, they’ll still be
afraid of fear itself.
sc
oul
db
Ça p
ey
ourr
our
ait ê
lau
tre v
ndr
otre
buan omat
deri .
e.
• Check out this paradox: A million
grains of sand is definitely a “heap of
sand”, and removing one grain of sand
doesn’t turn a heap into a non-heap.
If you removed them all one at a time
until you only had one le�, you would
die of thirst.
• You know that one Slayer song that
goes DA-na-na-NA-na-na-NA-na-naNA-na? If you play it backwards, you
can hear a French guy talking about
pineapples.
• It takes a profoundly powerful story
by a skilled author to move a person
to tears, but you can make people cry
faster and harder with a book that
sprays them with mace.
• Pu�ing oil on fitness models might
seem arbitrary, but it’s really an
evolutionary response. We find oily
people more a�ractive because they’re
easier to cook in an emergency.
• I say potato, you say potato.
• Lots of kids want to grow up to be
astronauts, but it’s not that easy. To
be an astronaut, you need a certain
“special something.” You know, like
a kind of “suit” that keeps you from
“suffocating”.
• The record for fi�ing people into
a phone booth is twenty-five, but
that could easily be beaten with a
mathematician, some hard work, and
a wood chipper.
• If you knew Morse code, tap-dancing
would be a lot be�er, because you could
understand all of the secret messages.
Secret messages like “Mango albatross
quoz D-R-B-L-L-M.” Oh Michael
Flatley, you always crack me up.
• You can save a lot of money on filing
cabinets if you just file everything
under “D” for “document”
• You don’t need drugs to get high
- just get high on Life! One bowl of
Life cereal is over twelve times as
hallucinogenic as a hit of LSD.
www.canada123go.ca 1-877-go123go
TRAVEL & WORK ABROAD
VOYAGER ET TRAVAILLER À L’ÉTRANGER
• Neckties aren’t just for decoration.
In the early 19th century, bu�ons hadn’t
been invented yet, so people had
servants to keep their shirts closed.
The tie was invented to keep the
servants warm.
• Archaeologists recently discovered
the tomb of Jesus Christ. When they
exhumed his body, they discovered a
birthmark in the image of a piece of
toast.
Rembrandt Q. Uppercrust
GOLDEN WORDS
Page 14
hrothga
T lord of the land R
(Ray and Eric sit in Ray’s living room listening to music,
drinking beer.)
Eric: Man oh man, Ray, this is some place you’ve
got.
Ray: Yeah, it is a nice apartment. The landlord’s kind
of a jerk, though.
(With that, the front door is thrown open, revealing a large,
muscular man draped in fine pelts, with a broadsword
hanging from his belt. He begins to speak with a deep,
booming voice.)
Throthgar: I am Throthgar, son of Agathorn, lord of
the land! I have allowed you to dwell on my land for
this month past, and I demand recompense!
Ray: Sure, Throthgar. Rent is still three chickens,
right?
Throthgar: Three of your finest chickens!
Ray: Ok, Throthgar. I’ll go get ‘em.
(Ray leaves the living room to fetch his chickens. An
awkward silence fills the room.)
Eric: So, uh, Throthgar, how long have owned this
building?
Throthgar: (laughing a deep, booming laugh) Hohoho!
My lineage has laid claim to this land for many years!
It was first taken by very own father Agathorn, son of
Onund the Destroyer, who was best friends with Ofeig
Volume 41, Issue 23
the Priest of the Barra Isles, who watched Guborg the
Sleepy and Arval the Punctual steal a large sack of
meat from Thorkel the Indecisive—
(Eric picks up the remote control for the stereo, and switches
off the music. Throthgar stands dumbstruck, staring at
Eric.)
(Ray returns with the a number of wooden cages, each
containing a live chicken.
Throthgar: What kind of sorcery is this? Who is this
man who doth silence the thunder beast from afar?
Throthgar: Ah! Now to pick the three finest!
Eric: Um… I’m Eric.
(Throthgar pauses, slowly looking each chicken in the
eyes.)
Throthgar: Eric! You must come with me to fulfil your
destiny! A sorcerer of your skill should not spend his
time with such common folk as Ray, son of Dan.
Throthgar: (pointing at three cages) I shall take these
three! Their gazes betray a deep sense of solemnity.
(The chickens inside the chosen cages squawk and scream
loudly, flapping around like idiots. Ray dutifully hands
them over to Throthgar.)
Ray: Anything else, Throthgar?
Throthgar: Yes! One of my tenants, Olaf of 2A, son
of Orm of 3B, has told me that you own a thunder
beast whose howls can be heard throughout the land,
disturbing Olaf’s sleep. You must tame this thunder
beast, or I will dispatch it myself!
Ray: Huh?
Throthgar: Do not try to bewitch Throthgar with your
silver tongue! I hear the thunder beast in this very
room! (he brandishes his broadsword and points it at Ray’s
stereo, which is still playing loud music.)
Ray: Hey, man, lay off. I gave you three of my finest
chickens!
Eric: Gee, Mr. Throthgar, I’m quite fla�ered, but I’m
not really a sorcerer or anything.
Throthgar: (laughing a deep, booming laugh) Hohoho!
Your sorcerer humour amuses me! A sorcerer who is
not a sorcerer? What a silly idea! Now, you will come
with me!
Eric: Again, Mr. Throthgar I really— Hey!
(Throthgar throws Eric over his shoulder and picks up the
three wooden cages.)
Throthgar: (addressing Ray) I will return in a month’s
time. May your land be at peace and may your
chickens be strong.
Blog Talk
Eric: Oh, I’ll get that.
Flying Fox of the Yard
Be�y: These “shewarmos” were delicious.
Marjorie: Oh dear lord... are we being googled?
Be�y: Watch? They google it. It’s obscene.
Ethel: You know what they reminded me of? Lamb.
Be�y: Don’t be crazy. This is a restaurant. You have
to be near a computer, don’t you?
Marjorie: Well I don’t know about you ladies, but I
had my tubes tied.
Ethel: I don’t know! I’m a typewriter gal. You know
that!
(murmurs of approval)
Marjorie: We should tell these boys about lamb.
They’ve probably never had it.
Ethel: I bet they’d enjoy it. They’d probably be si�ing
around a table talking about how it tasted just like
swarmies!
(The gals chuckle)
Waiter: Here’s the bill, ladies.
Olive: Hey gals, what is this? What is this number
over there?
Olive: Apparently it’s everywhere nowadays. For all we
know, we could be being googled right now.
Marjorie: Well I was going to leave a big tip. You ladies
know I’m a generous tipper, right?
Be�y: I’ve seen you tip ten whole percent. That’s be�er
than what we got in my day.
Ethel: That’s that new GST tax, Olive. That’s what
happens when you elect a Liberal.
Marjorie: Well that waiter can just forget about that
now. It’s nickels for you, young man. I didn’t come to
lunch to be... googled.
Olive: No, look. The total was $44.56, right? So the
GST should be $2.67
Ethel: How can they do this? Aren’t there police on
the internet?
Be�y: Obviously
Be�y: I hear they’re googling in the schools now.
Fi�een-year-old girls going into alleys and googling
when they should be picking daffodils.
Olive: But they have it as $2.69.
Ethel: That can’t be right.
Olive: It’s right there on paper.
Olive: Well, it can’t be any worse than this “Your
Tube” business
Be�y: Something is definitely amiss, gals.
Be�y: Oh, I hear that there are perverts on that thing
performing naked acts.
Ethel: You know, I’ve heard about this kind of thing
happening on those Nigerian e-mail scams.
Ethel: On a public internet? Where the children
watch?
Waiter: I’m sorry ma’am. Is there some problem with
the bill?
Marjorie: Young man, do you have a web blog?
Waiter: I’m sorry?
Marjorie: A face book. A xanga.
Waiter: Well, I’ve got a myspace. Why do you ask?
Marjorie: Listen young man, I don’t speak hacker. I
will ask you again. Do you have a web blog?
Waiter: Uh, yes. I suppose.
Marjorie: Aha! Just as I thought. (she takes the bill, folds
it twice, and puts it in her purse.) You fellows will be
hearing from the Be�er Business Bureau.
(The gals stand up)
Waiter: Hey, what? You can’t just leave without
paying.
Olive: Just watch us!
Ethel: That’s right! Google this, young man!
A Wealthy Industrialist
Wordsday, March 21st, 2007
THIS IS FOR
REAL!
CAMPUS EQUIPMENT
OUTFITTERS
ASSISTANT MANAGER
POSITIONS
Do you have an interest in gaining
valuable business, finance or marketing
experience? Do you enjoy creating
incredible clothing for everyone to
wear around campus? Do you want
next year to be the most memorable
of your time at Queen’s? Applications
for Campus Equipment Outfitters
assistant manager positions are now
available in the EngSoc lounge. Next
year is going to be an exciting and
innovative time for CEO and all you
need is some excitement, creativity,
and passion to help lead this incredible
business! Applications are due by
Monday March 26th at 6:00pm. Please
submit all materials electronically to
vpservices@engsoc.queensu.ca and by
hard copy to the EngSoc mail box in the
EngSoc lounge of the ILC. If you have
any questions please feel free to email
the current management at ceo@engsoc.
queensu.ca or visit h�p://engsocengsoc.
queensu.ca/services/CEO
QUEEN’S
ENGINEERING
COMPETITION
Apply to be chair of the committee
that plans the biggest engineering
competition on campus. Take a look
at how behind the scenes work at
engineering competitions. Plan a
competition and see how our degree
goes to work. Applications due
Thursday March 29th, 2007. If you have
any questions please contact Maggie
Brace at vpsd@engsoc.queensu.ca
ENGSOC NEEDS
COMMITTEE CHAIRS
Are you interested in ge�ing involved?
Do you wish you had meaning in your
GOLDEN WORDS
life? Then apply to be the chair of a
commi�ee out to make a difference.
Hiring Now!!!
Environmental Development
Committee – works to make people
more environmentally conscious.
Implement new ideas to help out with
environmental concerns on campus.
Equality Issues Commi�ee – Plan the
December 6th memorial to commemorate
the lives of the women from ‘Ecole
Polytechnique. Get the word out about
equality issues on campus.
These are two great commi�ees that
actually make a difference. Applications
are in the EngSoc Lounge and will be
due on Thursday March 29, 2007. If
you have any questions please contact
Maggie Brace at vpsd@engsoc.queensu.
ca
SEED NEEDS YOUR
HELP TO PLANT IT
Students for Engineering
Education Development (SEED) is
holding its annual educational forum
on March 29rd, from 3:00 to 5:00
PM in rm. 313 of the ILC.
We will be discussing “Environmental
Issues in Today’s Engineering Curriculum”
in an open and intimate environment
involving both faculty professors and
students. Refreshments will be served,
and your insight will help improve
engineering studies at Queen’s, and make
this event a continuing success. Students
and staff in all faculties are welcome to
attend. If possible, please RSVP by
sending an e-mail with your name to
seed@engsoc.queensu.ca
ENGSOC IS HIRING!
The application deadlines for Chief
Returning Officer (CRO), EngSoc
Archivist and Constitutional Guru
have been extended to Friday, March
23! The application window has also
now opened for the Alumni Relations
Committee, EngLinks Coordinator,
BED Fund Coordinator, and SEED
Chairperson.
A d d i t i o n a l l y, a p p l i c a t i o n s a r e
now available for EngWeek Chair,
Fungineering Chair, and the following
Event Coordinators: Carol Service,
Terry Fox Run, Buddy Program,
Kamikaze Fix ‘n Clean, EngRugby, and
Athletics! There will be an information
session regarding these positions in the
EngSoc Lounge from 5:30 to 7pm on
Wednesday, March 21. For information
on these positions and an application
form, please visit http://engsoc.
queensu.ca/society/getinvolved.
If you have any questions, please
don’t hesitate to email vpsa@engsoc.
queensu.ca. Applications are due
Friday, March 23 at 12pm (noon). Please
submit them to the EngSoc Mailbox, in
the EngSoc Lounge, in the ILC.
TEA ROOM HIRING
The Tea Room is a student-run,
environmentally conscious café looking
for energetic, enthusiastic staff for the
coming year. Any student of Queen’s
university can apply, regardless of
faculty or discipline. Applications are
available at the AMS front desk, the
EngSoc Lounge and online and www.
tea-room.ca. If you have any questions
please contact Zhaodi Culbreath at
hiring@tea-room.ca.
CIRQUE IS HIRING
CONFERENCE
COMMITTEE
MEMBERS
Hey Engineering Students, now is
your chance to get involved with
EngSoc and Queen’s. The Conference
on Industry and Resources: Queen’s
University Engineering (CIRQUE)
currently seeking students interested
in helping to organize and run the
conference for next year (2007/2008).
CIRQUE is an event run annually by
engineering students under the Queen’s
University Engineering Society. The
conference’s goal is to provide students
with an opportunity to see how diverse
an engineering degree is by exposure
to speakers from industry, and a
variety of non-traditional career paths.
We are looking for well organized
and motivated students who want
to be in charge of portfolios such as
Industrial Sponsorship, Logistics,
Treasurer, Speakers, Delegates, Website
and Publications. Application forms
may be found online at h�p://www.
queenscirque.com and should be
submi�ed to the mailbox in the engsoc
lounge by Friday March 30 at 5PM.
If you have any Questions, contact
cirque.2007@gmail.com
FUEL CELL TEAM IS
HIRING!
Are you interested in helping to lead
the design and construction of a fuel
cell powered vehicle? The Queen’s Fuel
Cell Team has openings for Electrical
Manager and Treasurer. Email Geoff
Olynyk at 3gmo@qlink.queensu.ca if
interested. Please let me know if this
is a problem. Thanks for your time!
Geoff Olynyk,
General Manager, Queen’s Fuel Cell
Team, 2006-2007
Page 15
PERSONAL/
IMPERSONALS
Dearest Team Mandy Moore,
3 2 1 ...
Yours, etc. Erin
Congratulations to contest winner
Alicia Storey.
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