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College Changes Mascot to “Bi-Polar Bears” for Mental Health Awareness Month

BY: PATRICK LYNOTT Oct. 27, 2020

In a characteristically suave announcement on Friday, Clayton Rose, President of Bowdoin College and an intensely passionate botanist, declared that for the duration of National Mental Health Week, the college would be amending its mascot to the “Bi-Polar Bears.” The decision comes as a response to renewed calls to update the oft bemoaned Counseling Services at the school. “I have decided to take substantial action in honor of Mental Health Awareness Month,” said Rose in the Friday statement, evidently filmed in front of the fireplace at Xanadu. “And effective immediately, I will be changing our mascot to the Bi-Polar Bears. Get it? Because Polar B- and – er. You had to be there, I guess. But I will also be cutting the Counseling budget by another 15%, so there’s that.”

The announcement was met with mostly humdrum murmurings and banal platitudes among the student body. As Arjun Mehta (‘21), a senior majoring in Sourdough Bread and Superfluous Geography, put it: “I would expect such a savvy PR move from the likes of Bates College located in Lewiston and Waterville’s own Colby College, but not from Bowdoin, which can be found in Brunswick, Maine.” 

This does not mark Bowdoin’s first mascot change. The school’s original mascot was the “Whispering Pines,” which was changed to the now defunct “Polar Bears” in 1913. And in 1994, swept up in “Mel-mania,” the college changed the mascot to the “Mavericks” in honor of the Mel Gibson film of the same name. The college of course reverted back to the “Polar Bears” upon revelations of Gibson’s views about semetic people. The Bowdoin administration swore off another impulsive mascot change, until the present one by Rose. “I just couldn’t help myself,” Rose told Harpoon reporters. “The pun was begging to be used. Plus, I needed pretense to announce those budget cuts to the Counseling Services. I think I got out in front of the narrative.” 

The new moniker will be a muzzled and straightjacketed version of the current Polar Bear with a little dialogue bubble that reads “Please help mnfomonfouBDN=jbifdonsqowphcibz.”

Alcohol-Related Transports at Record Low; Peer Health Cites New Online Newsletter As Primary Cause

BY: WILL HAUSMANN Oct. 27, 2020

After six full weekends on campus, there has been a shockingly small number of transports to Mid Coast Hospital due to the over-imbibing of alcohol. Only four students have found themselves taking an unplanned ambulance ride, according to data the Harpoon obtained from the Office of Safety and Security. This represents a 71% decline in transports, compared to an average of 13.7 transports through six weekends in previous years.

Members of Peer Health are suggesting the decline can be attributed to their decision to introduce a virtual newsletter each week, starting in late March of last academic year. “We decided that Peer Health needed a messaging change, so we chose an email newsletter instead of posters because it’s a digital age and stuff,” Darren Shepherd ‘21 told the Harpoon. “After realizing the screenagers of today spend all of their time on the toilet staring at their phones instead of the Stall Street Journal, we realized we needed to go virtual to be successful.”

Susan Seuss ‘21 , a Biology major, aspiring research MD, and co-leader of Peer Health, said she is investigating this effect for her honors project this year. “I conducted a double-blind, peer-reviewed experiment comparing the transport rates of students who identify as ‘Active’ vs ‘Inactive’ readers of Peer Health content,” Seuss said. She went on to say that her data “absolutely guarantees” that the newsletter is preventing transports.

When asked whether COVID and social distancing guidelines could be attributed to the lower number of transports, Seuss and Shepherd said there was “weak causality at best.”

Still, not all students are ready to accept Peer Health’s explanation. According to Orson Digby Palmer V, self-described “beer maven” and third generation member of the lacrosse team, the sole reason for the decline is “this year’s crop of first years are simply not as cool as that of previous years,” and they lack the “100 kegs or bust” mentality exemplified by our newest Supreme Court justice,

OPINION: How I Seized the Chambo Lobby’s Condoms To Display My Supreme Coolness

BY: JACOB TRACHTENBERG Oct. 27, 2020

I am a really cool guy. If you ken me (that’s a traditional Scottish word for “know”), you are certainly aware that I am an attractive, strong, significant, intelligent human being who can ingest exactly twenty-one alcoholic beverages in one nighttime session. (And afterward, I can still recite every Hamlet soliloquy from memory.) But I have encountered a simple yet deceivingly complex conundrum (ah yes, the pleasure of an intentional contradiction)–most of you inferiors are not yet acquainted with me (and you shall regret that).

This year, I have been unable to converse with all my buddies from ninth, tenth, eleventh, and twelfth grades–my many, many close friends who all do, in fact, exist, such as Jimmy, Johnny, Jerry, Joey, Janie, Jenny, Jackie, and my best friend of all, Rick. I shall provide evidence of their quiddity (oh, what a sumptuous term!). I shall first provide Jenny’s phone number: 867-5309. And now, a video of Rick singing one of his delightful little tunes: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dQw4w9WgXcQ

Although relinquishing time with J, J, J, J, J, J, J, and R was arduous, I shall now form new social attachments at Boing Doing. (That was a joke, by the way!) While adhering to social distancing guidelines, I concocted a scheme to demonstrate my utter coolness to my peers, without the help of my dastardly roommates. (My roommates refuse to acknowledge my quiddity [oh, what a voluptuous piece of vocabulary!], perhaps out of envy, but I shall disclose that tale during another 24-hour solar period!)

I shall now discuss my brilliant plot. It revolves around the free condoms in the lobby of Chambo, for one must take advantage of what one is given without cost. I often opine that power rests in the hands of those who hold condoms. I had to ensure all recognized the gargantuan number of condoms I possessed and certainly intended to employ during that night’s witching hour.

Enough chitter-chatter: shall we bask in my swagger? From here, I shall describe my six-point plan in enthralling narrative format. Prepare thyself.

Step 1: I stumbled upon a gathering–a legal one with mask-wearing collegiate citizens. Rule breaking is naughty, but not as naughty as I was about to (pretend to) be! They were socializing in the Chamberlain Hall lobby viewing the television (oh, the immaturity!)–next to the box of complimentary phallic protectors. Perfect!

Step 2: I strode to the condom box, guaranteeing my footsteps were as loud as possible. As I arrived at the box, I confidently yodeled (exact words: “YODELEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEH!”) to attract the attention of my classmates. They stared at me, in awe of my confidence and might.

Step 3: It was time to pop the question: “Which one of these condoms is largest?” A muscular first-year answered, “they’re all the same, headass!” But this was part of the plot from the outset! You see, now they know about my (ten sentences redacted for ‘flowery’ language).

Step 4: I grabbed each and every condom and stuffed them all in my wintry jacket. Oh, the pleasure of the condom! A round of applause erupted, and the plebeians chanted my name–oh, how fickle the masses are! The approval I desperately craved had been achieved, if only for a temporary amount of time; I was finally hip, as the masses say.

Step 5: I located a second gathering in my floor’s common room and “accidentally” spilled my jacket-full of condoms on the vodka-stained carpet. “Bravo!” exclaimed my proctor. “You are definitely going to have sex tonight, perhaps even seventeen times!” But my proctor counted the condoms incorrectly–there were in fact nineteen condoms on the ground. I was to possess nineteen sexes that night, in fact! Ah, how sophisticated–and sexual–I am!

Step 6: I returned to my room and immediately discarded the condoms, because no true patrician needs those anyway. Alright, I admit I played finger-puppets with them for a while, but quickly after, I buried them in the trash can as I ritualistically chanted Kant’s treatises on the immorality of sex. For no perspicacious human would base one’s sexual philosophy on infantile and lewd pieces of ‘cinema’ such as “The 40-Year-Old Virgin” or “Animal House” rather than Kant. One day, I shall find a partner who despises sex as much as I; on that day, I shall perhaps be open to….

Anyway, the deed is done. My reputation has skyrocketed–every time I encounter someone who attended that gathering, they laugh, as if enthused by my mere quiddity (if you have not looked up that word, you do not deserve life)! Thus begins my social dominion over the college.

Now, all grasp my coolness–except the guys who actually needed condoms that night.

New Directions in the Political Spectrum: Democrats Move from “Left” to “Up,” Republicans Move From “Right” To “Down”

BY: HOLLY LYNE Oct. 1, 2020

After years of the classic labels of “left” and “right” being used to describe politicians, platforms, and parties, political nomenclature is getting a makeover. Formerly “left-wing” Democrats will now describe themselves as “up,” and right-wing Republicans will describe themselves as “down.” These new directions boldly symbolize a new era of the two-party system that will continue doing the exact same thing it has for centuries.

“My publicist told me that kids these days are tired of ‘the left’ and ‘the right,’ so I just wanted to stay hip and jiggy with the times!” remarked Democratic presidential candidate Joe Biden.

“Same here!” enthused Biden’s running mate, Senator Kamala Harris (D-CA). “Up and down will be so lit and woke, just like my Oakland upbringing!”

Notable Republicans also embraced this rebranding. “My rights and lefts have always been so hard for me. Many say it’s the reason I took kindergarten three times,” remarked Senate majority leader Mitch McConnell. “Ups and downs are so much easier to remember!”

The only people struggling with the new directional names are progressive groups such as Swing Left. “I mean, I like the change, don’t get me wrong. But now we have to reprint all our water bottle stickers,” remarked Miriam Stone, one of the three founders of Swing Left. “I just hope Swing Up has the same ring to it!”

College Releases Plans to Protect its Most Vulnerable: White Athletes

BY: SHARIF ABOULEISH Oct. 1, 2020

Two weeks ago, after several athletes were found sharing a blunt outside Farley Field house, the administration has decided to act. “This tragedy simply cannot be repeated,” spoke Dean Quinby to a Harpoon reporter, “I mean, how could our athletes be so poor as to not afford separate fatties”? In consultation with President Rose, Quinby has decided to implement a series of sweeping reforms. We have graciously summarized them for you below, which you may peruse at your leisure:

  1. The SWAG center will be converted into a safe space for white athletes. “They have suffered”, spoke Quinby, “can you imagine what it must be like—to have smoked marijuana and shared the same blunt? We must—”. As if of the same mind, Rose completed the sentence, “—care for them, as they so clearly care about us.” When asked whether ‘us’ referred to the administration or other students, Rose seemed confused that other students existed.
  1. The J-Board will introduce a new criterion to Covid-19 related hearings—the timed 1 mile. “We feel as if certain members of our community are more likely, due to socio-economic conditions, to violate Covid-19 regulations. In order to preserve collegial equity, we will be allowing students to share their track speeds with us during trials.” It seems, at long last, the administration is finally listening to the overwhelming chorus demanding fairness at Bowdoin.
  1. A statement will be released Friday warning that students who violate the on-campus community contract without wearing standard issue LL-Bean boots will be punished. 
  1. Different cohorts of students incur different expenses—a gender studies major endures hundreds of thousands in debt, another student might have to support their family, or an athlete might need to buy items (specifically, bagels for the lacrosse team). As a result, the college will be creating a “White Athlete Fund”—sponsored by Bank of America—in order to prevent fatty sharing. “No student should have to limit their experience at Bowdoin because of monetary restrictions” wrote President Rose in an email which began with his usual sweeping and unnecessary prologue.

For more information regarding the policy framework the college used to craft these reforms, please see:

https://ballotpedia.org/The_Republican_Party_Platform,_2020

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/University_of_North_Carolina_academic-athletic_scandal

DIY Lobster Bake!!!

BY PATRICK LYNOTT and ELIZA JEVON

DIY Lobster Bake!!!

Alright, we all know that this year’s Lobster Bake is cancelled due to COVID :(, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have your own socially distant Lobster Bake Celebration!! Just a follow a few easy steps to enjoy your own gourmet and ~safe~ DIY Lobster Extravaganza!

Step 1: Early Bird Gets the Worm!!!

It’s 3 A.M. Your alarm clock is clanging frantically in the corner of your room. You placed it there the night before, drunk, knowing you might never clamber out of bed if the clock was in arm’s reach. You stand and it’s scored by a cacophony of cracking joints. On the way to the bathroom, you don’t pull back a shade and look outside; it’s dark. Always is at 3 A.M.

The shower is cold and perfunctory. You make grinded coffee and fill your thermos with it. The coffee tastes metallic until you cut it with vodka, and when you do, you perk up for the first time all morning. The bitter sting of vodka feels like something, at least. Your pickup truck clambers over potholes on the way to the wharf.

Step 2: Cute Outfits 🙂

You pull on rubberized fishing gear. It’s dank and odorous, only ever washed by salty ocean spray. As you load the empty crates into your boat, trying not to let the ice cold water trickle down your sleeve, you greet your crew with a curt nod and grunt. You’re feeling livelier today because, after all it is Lobster Bake, so you allow a soft smile to your lips. Then you gear up the old rusty motor, cast off the mooring, and chug towards the mouth of the harbor.

Step 3: Work it!!!

Hauling up the first traps is always the hardest. You never expect your back to ache this much, but it does, and you forgot to pack Aleve in the morning commotion. You’ll have to fight the day. You remember tonight’s Lobster Bake and decide to let that fleeting moment of promise hold you back from the bottom of the Atlantic.

Lobster after lobster you dump them into the tank, admiring their smooth shell and fight for life. Not for long though.

The morning drags on. Sunrise comes and goes — a timestamp on the slow march to the great equalizer. Golden hour is but a wistful memory of what was and what remains. After pulling up around 100 pounds of lobster, you head back to the shore.

Step 4: Dig In :p

            Later that evening, you sit down to dinner alone with your thoughts, as usual, in your dimly lit cabin. Crushed beer cans are scattered about the hardwood. You tie a stained white napkin around your neck and set a bowl for your old dog Scout so that he can lick the fatty carcass remains. A new beer to you right, a shining silver bowl in front of you, and two meaty hands ready to snap the lobster rest on the old wooden table. In a few swift cracks, the green excrement drips into the bowl, the juice spills out, and the meat slides on your plate.

Step 5: The Afterglow

You eat and think about your future. You take dozens of selfies for Instagram. You look cute, but a snacc? You’ve never been a snacc. You brainstorm captions. You settle on the lobster emoji, and you think that’s fine. You post and throw your phone across the room; you’re not going to check the likes until tomorrow. You dream of the day you’ll be allowed back on campus as Scout laps up the last of the last of the crustacean dripping off your fingers. 

This is quarantine. This is your life now. You set your alarm for next morning.

BPD Shuts Down College House Zoom Party

By JACQUELINE BOBEN Apr. 4, 2020

On Sunday, March 30th (or was it Saturday? I have lost track of the days and my pants) many College Houses decided to hold their weekly house “meetings”. They had been advertising their gatherings as “open events” to all students, telling them, “No I.D., No Meeting ID”. This did nothing to impede the Brunswick Police Department’s apparently continued commitment to ensure that students respect the law.

Continue reading “BPD Shuts Down College House Zoom Party”

Rose Enforces 5 PM Deadline: Patrols Campus on Horseback, Shoots Remaining Students on Sight

By JACOB BASKES and SAM HALPERT Mar. 18, 2020

Since last Wednesday’s announcement that the College would be closing its campus and transitioning to a virtual learning model among fears of COVID-19 transmission, students have been receiving daily reminders to pack their rooms and depart as soon as possible. “Students who are on campus without permission after 5:00 pm will be subject to disciplinary action,” wrote Dean of Student Affairs Janet Lohmann in her final campus-wide email on Wednesday morning. “Also, I have seen your memes and find them kind of mean but also flattering, therefore I will be permanently adopting the nickname, ‘JLo.’”

Continue reading “Rose Enforces 5 PM Deadline: Patrols Campus on Horseback, Shoots Remaining Students on Sight”

Vans Headed to Polls Create Major Pileup on Maine Street

by JACOB BASKES Mar. 3, 2020

Today is Super Tuesday—the one day during election season in which 14 states head to the polls. In order to encourage campus participation in the Democratic primaries, vans have been leaving campus every thirty seconds to take students to their local polling place. The high number of vans, however, along with the fact that a majority of drivers are from California, have led to a seventeen-van pileup in downtown Brunswick.

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