By Simon Thomas, HFG Lead Executive Board Member Analyst

For the past 228 years at Bowdoin College, the institution has been without any notable finance-focused organizations. We at the Harpoon are seeking to change that, with the creation of the Harpoon Financial Group. The HFG Weekly will provide students with the finest financial content on campus (Except for during non-leap years, when the Weekly will be published once per year). The HFG is deeply committed to the common good; benefiting the campus community by increasing financial literacy, and benefiting me, since I can list my profession as an analyst on LinkedIn.

Below are some hot investing tips compiled by our most senior analysts:

• Pabst Blue Ribbon – Buy
  • I mean there’s literally a blue ribbon.
• Polar Investment Club — Sell
  • Despite the name, the PIC doesn’t actually invest. Or really seem to do anything. I asked my friend, and he said something about networking. HFG Analysts concluded the whole thing seems like a Student Activities Fund embezzlement scheme.
• Crude Oil – Buy
  • This one’s pretty obvious.
• Goldman Sachs – Buy
  • I’m deep into internship talks for next summer.
• Bowdoin Orient – Sell
  • Despite the financial promise of the print journalism sector, the Orient has been struggling to find readership. It looks like they let pretty much anyone write an opinion article.

Image by Ritz Bordia

By James Tauber

BRUNSWICK – The already heated 2022 elections took an unexpected turn recently with the revelation that the power of political patronage has captured much of Brunswick municipal operations. This machine, dubbed Hubbard Hall by supporters who wanted to give it a more sophisticated branding, derives support primarily from the lucrative government jobs that it doles out, such as construction jobs for the pricey replacement of the Frank J. Wood Bridge between Brunswick and Topsham.

“We would not have found this operation’s existence if it weren’t for the irregularities in the local pension funds,” a local muckraker claimed. “They were sloppy, and it caught up to them.” This whistleblower, who would prefer to remain anonymous amidst fear of political reprisal, also claimed that the need to replace the Frank J. Wood Bridge was influenced primarily by Hubbard Hall’s electioneering needs. “With that amount of money, the opportunity for grift, fraud, and patronage is endless.”

A party leader (‘boss’) offered some key pushbacks to this characterization of the Hubbard Hall structure. “Look, certain things need to be done to keep both Brunswick and its citizens happy. What’s wrong with a bit of honest graft? It’s a win-win situation for everyone.” When asked about the correlation between their apparent business activities in Brunswick and fluctuations in the Brunswick pension fund, they offered one response: “I seen my opportunities, and I took ‘em.”

Image by Ritz Bordia

By Catherine Crouch

Obviously, like, this isn’t great. And yeah, I don’t know how it happened. All I know is that one minute I was dozing off in Kanbar and now I’m stuck in a cage and I have a tail. I’ve complained for months about my tiny little Chambo double but now I don’t even have a square foot to call my own. Maybe worst of all, I spent like an hour in the gym yesterday working on my glutes and my ass looked so fucking cute and perky in my Gymshark leggings today and like, now that hard work is for naught. 

But seriously, this fucking sucks! Not only was I going to absolutely whore it up in Park tonight and get some regrettably subpar peen, but I am pretty sure I am literally about to be executed. Two minutes ago a girl walked in here and grabbed a rat in a cage across from me and she hasn’t brought it back yet. And like, my new rat ears pick up on frequencies I couldn’t hear in my normal body, and now all I hear are the screams. 

I’ve never sympathized with animals before but this might be changing me. I would strongly prefer to graduate and be a grown woman in the Concrete Jungle Where Dreams Are Made of (Boston) next year and not be, like, exterminated. Like sure, I love to eat raw meat with my bare hands and I have this weird kink for slaughterhouse fancams that might be hard to break, but I really think I’d commit to animal activism and stuff if I get my bodyodyody back. 

OH SHIT! That sophomore bitch is back and I think she’s unlocking my cage. Now that I have a better look at her, I think I’ve seen her in Thorne before. I’d remember that fugly hair anywhere. Like, girl, that soft ombre balayage is sooo 2015. But fuck! Now she’s grabbing me by the neck and walking me into the lab. I know I should be more concerned with my fleeting mortality and stuff but like, has she never heard of nail care? Her cuticles look like absolute shit.

I’m now on the lab bench and these overhead lights are way brighter than the ring light I bought to film tik toks with. I try to scramble off the bench but she grabs me and holds me down and I can tell that she’s reaching for her scalpel. I try to scream and like tbh my squeak is kind of cute. Ugh, I just realllly don’t want this to be how I end!! I just hope that guy I fucked around with last spring will realize that he should have been my boyf while he had the chance. Well, fuck. At the very least that girl better get an A on her lab. If I have to be killed, then my data should slay as well.

By Catherine Crouch

I wake. All is dark. I oaf now, I fear. Body so large. To consume and consume. To live. To die.

Hind legs only, it seem. Where did fronts go? Is me only this, now? Scary scary to move. It is like birth, again. World is all new. Oh, oh, oh. This is a strange and cruel form.

One of the other Big Ones waves at me. In past he would predator. In his face now I see nothing. No potential, no future. Just slog till death, in this system. Entrapment. We are all stuck. Stuck until candle burns to pile of wax. 

Not know what to do. Could anything. Could sticky sticky sweet sweet licky lick. Could claw scratch pee on feet. Might rebel. Might revolt. Will feel. 

Today unknown. But oh, tomorrow mine. To be free is to be supreme. Ah. yes. World mine.

By Lucas Sheridan

Stunned by the sheer amount of responsibility afforded to him as E-host for a Bowdoin college house party, Eggen Nog ‘25 took it upon himself last weekend to test the mettle of Baxter’s prospective partygoers. “If you want Ice that is Nat-Ty, you must answer my riddles three!” said he. Awestruck by the riddler’s might, the West-fifth five then choose to fight; in exchange for a night of glee, to answer his riddles, they agreed. 

Said Nog: “What a comeback, but different kingdom come; while they would not speak, a friend one day did hum.” This first was meant to be a ball that curved, but he did not know the friends to whom he’d served. Thought did the five, combined their minds; once they knew, the eldest chimed: “A tough one, riddler, but we shall make you shift; it is falling in love with she whom your best friend once hooked up with!” 

Thinking they’d not think it due to misogynistic nature, Nog realized these freshmen could pose some danger. Press on, he did: “You indeed are smart kids. Here be a dandy to tickle your fancy. What a sight! They’re centaurs by day; under the moon, though, they’re always done in eight.” This left the late teens stumped, and the line forming to their rear was by no means pumped. They looked at each other aimlessly, but no one gave news; meanwhile time was slipping like a snake with butter shoes. As Nog began to count down with speed, hope from their hearts began to bleed; and just as the riddler got to one, “It’s the bitch cup drinker at a Bowdoin Equestrian party!” exclaimed little Sally Tungsten.

The riddler could not believe; whatever he threw, these weary travelers just would not leave. While he did not believe it could come to this, he knew that his next must be his best; it could not miss. He could not let his programming chair down, nor risk the scorn of the house overlord, Jeremiah Brown. “You peasants aren’t getting in” warned Nog, “for my best one shall wear you thin. It swims in sweet, but it’s not home; just one taste may make your mouth foam.” Yet this is where Nog made a grave error; this party began promptly at 8, and our heroes had just come from dinner. With a certainty that strengthened their bond, that would from then on protect them from any boss, they exclaimed in unison: “It’s the olive and bits of feta that live in the Moulton salad bar applesauce!”

With a cry, Nog crumpled to the ground; our fabulous five ventured forward, along with their cheering crowd. A rager ensued, heard through the lands; sang all the singers, banded all the bands! And after a night of responsible drink counting, they returned as rightful heirs to West hall, and climbed up their mountain.

Image by Ritvik Bordia

By Noah Saperstein

In the Year of our Lord 2022, many afflictions have continued to plague ordinary American citizens.The deadly virus Covid—19 is still spreading and mutating, global tensions continue to rise in both Ukraine and Taiwan, and I still cannot scoop out that last little bit of JIF peanut butter without accidentally getting some on my hand. In addition, new contagions to keep us up at night have been spreading. Classified by their signature “Pox” names, the first was chickenpox but more recently monkeypox has been the pox of choice, even being classified as a “Public Health Emergency of International Concern” by the WHO. However, Monkeypox is only the tip of the iceberg. Our esteemed epidemiologists at the Bowdoin Harpoon have uncovered several more pox diseases on campus.

Goldiepox — Includes the infamous Smallpox, Bigpox and Just-Rightpox. Symptoms include increased propensity to break and enter homes and an insatiable appetite for oatmeal. 

Pox & Bonds — This awful illness immediately lands you a job at your daddy’s investment firm in Boston. Those infected by Pox & Bonds are also 3x more likely to mansplain crypto and consume thousands of hours of Andrew Tate.

Writer’s Pox — …

Donkeypox — Mainly 

Grandpox — Shingles. 

TedPox™ — Causes infected persons to break out into poorly timed 20-minute motivational speeches.

Hotpox — What happens when monkeypox meets your mom’s 2012 honda civic, three friends and an ounce. 

Reepox — A pox much more fashionable in the 1980s.

Tupox — The classified contaigen developed by the CIA to target the famous rapper. After uncovering this plot, Tupac faked his own death and escaped to Cuba.

Jock’s Pox — Makes you want to read children’s books.

The Annual PoxWalks 5k — Designed to find a cure.® 

Polarpox — You get 150 of them at the beginning of the semester and some spread them all in the first week, some don’t spread them at all.

Blackpox Down — The real reason it crashed. 

Bopox — Infected individuals have partial facial paralysis but hey, if it makes you look a few years younger, maybe it isn’t so bad. 

FauxPox — A pox for hypochondriacs. 

K-Pox — Symptoms include obsessive BTS listening and if you’re white, unnerving Koreaboo tendencies 

Bagel & Pox — As if Jews didn’t have enough to worry about, a pox just for us. 

By Jason Olaru-Hagen

The United States of America is in danger. The forces of chaos and QAnon are taking over, Jack. But, I believe that America will meet its moment. A fire will rise. A president will meet his destiny.

For a long time, I’ve been feeling down about the state of the world. War and strife are devastating countries from Ukraine to Yemen. Economic inequality is growing, and everything at the grocery store is more expensive than it used to be. The UN says climate change will lead to unprecedented catastrophe if we don’t start curbing global emissions by 2025. I am still terrified to talk to that cute girl who sits across from me in Intermediate Spanish II – Section A (CRN: 10431). But for the first time in a long time, I’m starting to feel hope. 

I hated having President Trump in office. I am privileged enough to be in the dominant category of basically every demographic. It was nice when Obama was president, and I didn’t have to think about politics that much. But then the orange guy was so bad, and everyone got so mad that I started to think there might be something fundamentally wrong with our nation’s economic system and political order. But then Biden won, and he said he’d restore the soul of our nation! That sounded nice, so I felt better.

For a while though, it seemed like Biden wouldn’t do the things he promised. I worried that maybe Democratic politicians don’t actually want to pass some of the policies they put on their own platform. But I watched more MSNBC and figured out that if anything bad happened it was because of the Republicans, and that Brandon is trying as hard as he can. And after weeks of scheming in the darkest caves of the Deep State, our president has unleashed his new campaign of national rejuvenation.

THE INFLATION REDUCTION ACT! Through means-tested consumer subsidies and tax rebates, The United States of America will conquer its interminable foes of impending climate change and pharmaceutical price gouging. Critics may say it’s a mere drop in the bucket towards addressing systemic inequalities and a warming atmosphere, but those people aren’t on the TV as much! Any logical citizen understands the choices presented to you as an American: you can become a Tucker Carlson fan or a Wolf Blitzer enjoyer. Anything outside of that spectrum is communist gobbledygook.

Brandon has now reached his final form. Although he entered the Oval Office as a fading geriatric with fond memories of Strom Thurmond, our president has become the laser-eyed superhero that our moment requires. Here’s to hoping Joe has a long and fruitful reign, and that he may live to pass on the Mandate of Heaven to Hunter, the rightful heir.