Enlistment update: …

Enlistment update: NITWIT has been inundated with requests to join the cause; Citizen — with renewed hope for victory — has redoubled efforts to classify all new recruits. Be patient — you will all be recognized in time. And as a specious calm falls o’er Obsequian territory, wewonders what nefarious designs King T is scheming …
JOCK ‘O LANTERN
From The Great Green Arkleseizure: Normally, I would defend to the death (OK, to the discomfort) the right to keep Network a current-events-free ranting medium, but I just need to get this off my back. Perusing a certain online newspaper, I came across a quote that pretty much sums up not the problem that caused the Littleton massacre, but the fact that we never learn from history. First, the quote, from a New York Times article on Sunday:
“Kevin Koeniger, a 17-year-old junior on the Columbine Rebels Net: Search hard for the irony implied here football team, acknowledged that some athletes had teased the Trench Coat Mafia. But, he said, the group often seemed to be asking for it. ‘If they’re different, why wouldn’t we look at them as weird?’ he asked.”
So it’s true: Jocks never learn. (Ah crap, an accidental basketball team reference. Sorry ’bout that.) Net: It’s a stretch. But we giggled. I was hoping against hope that the one thing good to come out of that horror — besides a national aversion to wearing black trench coats and swastika-covered gear — would be a healthy fear geeks generated among the more popular cliques in high school. But no such luck, apparently. I imagine people will look at unbalanced idiots wearing swastikas, speaking German and making home movies about school massacres a little more closely, but that appears to be it. Nevertheless, I offer a free survival tip to all you fratties out there who rip on everyone not wearing Abercrappy, Tommy Hellfinger and/or whatever other obscenely expensive advertisements — erm, clothes — are popular this week: If you “look at them as weird” and then treat them badly, they might start looking at you as targets. And that’d be a shame, ’cause I might get caught in the crossfire.

THIS LANE IS YOUR LANE, THIS LANE IS MY LANE
From Armless Wonder: Darling Network, I’m in a ranting mood this afternoon after my second run-in this week with Minneapolis’ finest. I am fully aware of the ordinance against bicycle riding on the sidewalks around campus, but I had to conscientiously object twice this week, and twice was I busted by the cops. Net: Next time — while you’re at it — burn your draft card and chant “Free Mumia.” It’ll be the ol’ three-for-one. I’ll give you a quick summary before the rant begins. Wednesday: I’m on my way to campus through Dinkytown on 4th Street Southeast Sadly for us bikers, the bike lane ceases to exist after 13th Avenue. Since this street is a one-way and I didn’t feel like braving masses of oncoming traffic, Net: Coward I took to the sidewalk with the intention of returning to the street at 15th Avenue. Not halfway up the block, I hear the police car’s external PA system. The cop reminds me to get off the sidewalk. I give him the OK signal (and not the middle finger — I probably should have), but this isn’t good enough for him. He orders me off the sidewalk that instant. Fearing another Rodney King incident would erupt, I get into the street, quaking with the fear that an oncoming car would rob me of my bike and my life.
Then, this afternoon (Friday): I’m on Washington Avenue near Blockbuster, again on the sidewalk because the street has NO BIKE LANE(!) and lots of traffic. I’m happily biking along, enjoying a nice spring day when I hear the ugly sound that is Net: The Goo Goo Dolls? a police car’s horn. Recalling Wednesday’s incident, I get into the dangerous thoroughfare. But this cop’s got something up his ass. He gets on his PA and orders me over to his car for a chat. He also helpfully reminds me about the ordinance. I, feeling a bit cocky, explain to him that I fear for my life when I’m in the street and feel safer on the sidewalk. I guess he took this as combativeness, because he gave me a warning and said I’d be ticketed next time.
Now, on to the ranting: How the hell am I supposed to stay off the sidewalks when there are no accommodations for me, the cyclist? Net: Try a cloaking device. Or a different route. Is there some unwritten rule that the city can only pander to pedestrians and motorists? Here I am, merely trying to get to campus efficiently and in an environmentally conscious way, and the cops feel the need to bust my ass about it. One would think that in a metropolitan area this size, the cops would have real crimes to be preventing (or at least a couple dozen doughnuts to be eating). But I will forge on and not let these incidents prevent me from getting to and from campus in a timely, earth-friendly manner. I will continue to conscientiously object to the ordinance until there are enough bike lanes for me to safely ride in the streets of this city.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY SUITS
From carpy15: In lieu of all the ALF letters, anti-greek letters and all those blasted squirrel letters, I thought I would write about a less exhausted and far more interesting topic: Sunbathing at the Superblock. Granted, I’m far removed from my days of coming home from class spring quarter and looking out the window to see who would contribute to my next fantasy. Net: Probably because you finally got Internet access. However, I still remember those days like they were yesterday. Wondering where these beautiful women had hidden all winter, along with wondering when my roommate was returning. Ah, the days of spring. Young lust bursting out of all that revealing swimwear! It brings back fond memories, among other things. In remembrance, I have a proposition to Mr. Yudof, and his Beautiful U project. Why don’t we, this fine liberal University, turn the Superblock into a designated nudist colony? Consider the possibilities: opening up minds to new expression, expanding the understanding of those naãve persons, better pornography for us patrons who go back to our room and commit self-relation. It really should be something to consider.