From The University Department of Transportation, Office of Efficiency and Compaction: Oh omniscient, omnipotent and omniprescient Net,
Ever since the comment by our governor that “Students who are smart enough to get into college should be rich enough to hire a chauffeur,” we at DOTOEC have been hesitant to increase our budget request for more buses. Therefore, we would like to make the following suggestions to alleviate the overcrowding problem:

1) Remove your backpack. If everyone held their backpacks at foot level, there would be a dramatic (58 percent) increase in the volume into which additional passengers could be placed. Headloading is not recommended except for those with good balance.
2) Breathe asynchronously. Since the expansion and contraction of diaphragm and intercostals causes a 10 percent fluctuation in girth, inhaling while your neighbors exhales would allow more efficient use of space.
3) Lose weight. An obvious solution, we can suggest several clinics that offer discounted liposuction services for students.
4) Amputation. We observe that roughly 50 percent of students carry their backpacks on only one shoulder; since this behavior renders the other arm superfluous, we suggest immediate removal. There undoubtedly are medical students who would gladly remove your appendages for both their own study and the betterment of the University.
5) Ride on top. This would seem to be another obvious solution, as it is already being practiced in many developing nations. Not only is the air fresher and the view better, but with care, those on top need not wait until scheduled stops to disembark.

Thank you, Network, for providing us with the space to post this public service announcement. We hope that your readers find these recommendations useful.

From The Virgin: Arrrr, prepare to be boarded again! (Don’t you just love pirates?) Net: Especially virgins. Yes, it is I, the great Virgin, writing again in order to postpone my homework until a safer hour, like midnight. I noticed on the Daily’s Web site a request to “fire off a rant, weird story, or original haiku.” I’m sure that my purpose is now all too clear. Net: The circle is now complete. I have noticed a disturbing lack of haiku in Network and I intend to do everything in my power to alter this. First of all, I would like to ask everyone, if I may, to start attaching original haiku Net: And credit card numbers to the end of their letters. I feel it would do a great service to the campus and possibly counteract that whole end-of-the-world problem. Net: Hey, everything helps. To get the ball rolling, my roommate and I are submitting the following haiku. If you don’t mind, we would like you guys to judge them and announce a winner when you print this letter. If they both suck and you, Net, can write better haiku, Net: Stipulated then declare yourself the winner and mock us mercilessly. Either way it will be fun and, besides, world peace is at stake. Here goes:
My haiku:
Tuition and fees
The dark agony of loss
Tears out my kidneys
Roommate’s haiku:
My life, my spirit
All point toward the amazing
Transcendence of Erm
Thanks, Net. You’re the best Net a guy could ever have.

Net: We’ve always found ourselves pleasantly amused by all forms of lyrical prose — our favorite forms sprang from the seventh century songs, prayers and incantations of Persian nomads, many of which spread to Asia and gained tremendous popularity there. In the late 17th century, a particularly jocular and light-hearted fellow named Basho Matsuo began to attach meaning and thought to his humorous poems — primarily jokes and plays on words.
It is from his work (thanks, Basho, you zany old card; say hello to Shiki if he still hangs around) that modern forms of haiku descend. Here’s how they work:

Five syllables here
Follow those with seven then
Five again to end

In the context of this form, the delicate humor, irony or beauty of the haiku’s subject should become apparent.
Sorry Virgin — but in the interest of spirited competition, we shall withhold judgment and our own entries — until we have amassed a week’s worth of Networkian contribution … whereupon the strongest haiku will appear here next Monday.
Now hear this, fair readers! Netstradamus has told us: King T’s arm reaches not so far as clever quill! Your haiku might not win the day — but could quite well keep T at bay!
Send haiku at the bottom of your letters, or simply on their own. We will publish them in order of merit — authors of the very best will receive special consideration for absolution in the final days.
We have foreseen it.