I am new to this campus, and I was passing through the Student Center yesterday around one o’clock and happened to notice that there were several suspicious-looking characters lurking behind tables along the hallway. The first I came to was a tall, lanky man attempting to harass me into prostituting myself in some sort of “Charity Bachelor Auction.” He claimed it would benefit the AIDS Project and the Cancer Society—a common swindler’s trick. After dodging his verbal tauntings and clever seduction of words, I stumbled upon yet another unsavory lad peddling goods under the guise of “KUMM, The U-90 Alternative.”
He claimed the wares and garments he was selling were the property of some sort of a new-fangled musical institution called a “radio station.” I didn’t buy his story for a second, believe you me. Then the final kicker came. As I fled the table of the skinny guy with the magnets and t-shirts, I took a sharp turn into a brightly lit room called Oyate Hall. Looking around, I nearly lost my mind with fear. All around me were people sitting next to these horrifying boxes which had pictures that could move in some sort of window on top of them. The boxes were everywhere, and near each one was a professor trying to tempt a different student into interacting with these terrible machines. What has the world come to, Reid, where a simple man as myself cannot find solace in a community where I had hoped to come to learn. Is nowhere safe from the influence and deceit?
A. M. Ishman
I know how you feel. You have been assaulted by peddlers and student organizations while trying to peacefully make your way between classes. However these seemingly unrelated events which you have witnessed may in fact have a greater underlying interconnectedness. That’s right, Ishy, you have taken the first step into uncovering the great Morris conspiracy.
First let us deal with this so-called “Bachelor Auction.” While on the surface this may appear to benefit everyone involved—participants get a date and charities get the money—we must look at how it connects to the grand scheme of things. To do so, I myself have gone undercover as a bachelor for sale in this auction. In my dealings with the organizers of this event, I have found a disturbing connection between this event and several other organizations on this campus. It seems that the chief organizer of this event, who, for the sake of anonymity we’ll refer to as Abe W.—no, that’s too obvious—we’ll call him A. Welle, is also a staff member of KUMM, the campus radio station that you also mentioned as one of your tormentors.
Now, the skinny fellow you mentioned as peddling wares for KUMM, it turns out is the Music Director for the station, and it seems he is the roommate of a Computer Science major. This shocking fact links the river of deceit flowing through the U-90 right around the corner into Oyate Hall, and the Technology Fair. This fair is an obvious plot by the Computer Science discipline to expand its reach into the other departments of the University. Soon they’ll have everyone under the control of their humming boxes of death, and no one will be free from their influence.
The connections do not stop there, however. It further seems that A. Welle is a columnist for this very newspaper, The University Register, and that even this sacred institution is not free from the corruption that corrodes this campus. He has oozed his way into the all forms of mass communications on this campus, seeking to control all that we see and hear. Don’t be surprised if in a few years you find “The Can of Spam” every time you turn on a radio or television broadcast. Unless we act now to stop him.
Speaking of mystery meat, it is time to reveal the final, clinching connection. It can be unequivocably proven, thanks to my thorough research and undercover espionage, that all parties involved in this drastic conspiracy have at one time been patrons of The Eating Establishment Formerly Known As PFM. I’m risking my life by divulging this information, so you know it can’t be a lie. It’s true, our own Food Service, in cahoots with A. Welle (whether he is the mastermind or simply a high-ranking stooge, I have not been able to determine) have spent the last three years trying to turn Morris into a cesspool of corruption and immoral activity.
It’s not too late to do something about the degredation of our community. We must stand together and fight for what we believe in. We must not succumb to the treachery.