Happy Monday and go…

Happy Monday and good morrow, Networkians! The weeks to come are rife with hooded hooligans — NITWIT operatives have learned that ALF might not be interested in animal liberation at all. Instead, the balance of ecological power that will inevitably be tipped in the disordered days to come — days when the King of Terror reigns and even the bantam creatures bestow the pogrom of the masses — began last Monday morning in twelve animal research labs.
Yet somewhere, a Commodore 64 whirs to life.
Declare your allegiances, Networkians! Are you NITWIT or are you T?
OVERPOP STAR
From Gordon Shumley: In response to all the responses to the ALF lab trashings this past week, I thought I’d throw in my two cents. Net: Between your two cents and everybody else’s two cents, we’ve got enough to open a freakin’ bank account — sheesh. It seems that the argument always comes down to us vs. them. Just as three American soldiers are precious and millions of Kosavans are not-so-precious, the lives of animals are not as precious as the lives of humans. Our highly developed/evolved brains have created an environment that all but eliminates the possibility of other creatures sharing this earth. We hunt deer because they become overpopulated. No one even questions why we feel the need to build new roads, new malls and new Target Greatlands every f’n place. Oh, but I forget, we are the masters of the Earth. Net: Masters of the Earth? Hell, we’re the Masters of the Universe! BY THE POWER OF THE GATEWAY CENTER … WEEE HAAAVE THE POWEEER!!! My friends, it is WE who are overpopulated. We are the ones who need predators to thin out our ranks so that we don’t starve. Net: Soon enough, Gordon, soon enough — the arrival of one King T will change that attitude real quick. We fail to understand that the very concepts and rationalizations we use to justify the extinction of other animal species also apply to us. We are not what was intended. Net: Neither were dinosaurs. We will snuff ourselves out like a candle extinguishes itself in the excess of its own substance. Hug your dog, hug your rabbit, hug your grandmother. We are all in this, and our time is short. Make the most of it.
LITTLE JACKIE PAPER
From The Dread Teacher Roberts: I finished my last final on Thursday of finals week. Net: Okay, so that was awhile ago. We’re still catching up. As I’m walking over the Washington Avenue Bridge to get back home, I looked over my term paper I received at the end of the exam. I did much better on it than I thought I would. Then I thought of something — paper airplanes. So I folded up two paper airplanes out of my paper and launched them off the bridge. I can’t explain the way it felt to see hours and hours of research, typing, editing and retyping gently glide in circles down to the river below. It was invigorating. That’s all from here. Have a great quarter. Net: Already 20 percent over; so far so good.

IT CAN’T GO LESS THAN 50 MILES-PER-HOUR …
From Mocker: Hey Networkians (kinda sounds like “Kevorkian” doesn’t it?)! Net: Yeah, well, everyone likes to — uh, help — whenever they can. Well, I’ve decided to write to share my new way of amusing myself on the bus. You, too, can partake in this incredibly funny observance! I find it incredibly funny that people push the “stop requested” button on the Washington Avenue Circulator! Come on, people! It makes — count ’em — two stops. Not one (God forbid — the bus journey from Hell), Net: AKA a trip on a Greyhound not three, not four, or ten, but TWO. Therefore, intuition would have it that one would not need to push the little bar near the window because the BUS WILL INEVITABLY STOP (similar logic can be applied to the popular stops on the Campus Connector)! It’s hilarious how people push the button. Come on! Do you think the bus driver will lapse into a coma and somehow forget that he has to let people off at Blegen or Folwell?! All he has to remember is to simply “stop at Blegen” and “stop at Folwell.” Net: Loaf of bread, container of milk, stick of butter. I think we can be safe to say that the drivers won’t forget. And what’s that you say? Maybe, just maybe, they’ve decided to add a third stop at the Law School or Smith? Sorry, ‘Sconnie, don’t think so. So you might “request” to be let off somewhere that isn’t Blegen or Folwell, but, short of amusing folk like me, you ain’t gonna get it. Net: It can be done, but it involves faking a seizure.
THE LAST CRUSADE
From Big Brother Todd: So anyway, last quarter I was sitting at a table in Coffman, doing homework, learning all about Green’s Theorem and whatnot, when these two dudes came up to me and asked if I had a few minutes to spare. I said “Sure, what the hell, I don’t need to raise my gpa above 2.4 anytime soon.” So they introduced themselves as members of the Campus Crusade for Christ and we started chatting about a number of things — bowling, hemp, Kato Kaelin (I saw him at a grocery store in the Hollywood Hills over spring break) — and soon the topic was God. Net: Now there’s a surprise. I told them I knew all about God. God was the reason the Vikings didn’t make the Super Bowl, because they’re nothing but a bunch of sinners! After a few hours (or maybe it was minutes — time flies when you talk with these people) they went on their merry way to the next person, and I was left alone to ponder my own existence and eternal fate. But, I didn’t do those things. Instead, I made a very startling revelation that I would like to share with you all today. Since these two people (don’t get me wrong, they’re nice people) were from the Campus Crusade for Christ, doesn’t that make them the Campus Crusade for Christ Preachers? The CCCP? Net: (GASP!) You mean they’re Russian Orthodox Campus Crusaders for Christ? Did you notify the embassy? That’s almost as big of a revelation as the time I figured out that Ice Cream Jones rhymes with Ice Cream Cones. Net: And I Scream Tones. And My Three Phones. And Sigh, Green Moans. And Lice Free Zones. And Rice Tree Loans. And Vice: Brie Bones. And … aww, forget it.