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Humor and Satire | Apocalypse Now(ish): How to know when the end is near

Guest Columnist

Published: Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Updated: Wednesday, December 12, 2012 16:12

The world, as we know it, will end on Dec. 21, 2012. Our campus will be flooded with womp-womps who will slowly masticate Jewett House into the shape of labia. The ground will split apart between the TA bridge, and construction will be postponed until Summer of 2020, assuming that you’ll survive by hiding in the underground tunnel beneath Main or have just woken up years later from a post-Sushi Village food coma. All of your Apple devices will self-destruct unless you have unsolicited phone sex with Siri and offer five sacrificial oranges or Android products. Don Marsala will send out emergency emails to warn the Vassar community about the catastrophes, but his computer will only type in Wingdings and emoji. The apocalypse is encroaching, and here are some telltale signs of impending doom:

First, Sunset Lake is drained and replaced with Franzia. The administration debates what to do with all their confiscated Franzia boxes, and a group of Poughkeepsie locals will break into the Franzia vault and spew gallons of Franzia into Sunset Lake. The administration becomes furious and labels Sunset Lake as a health hazard. However, Environmental Studies majors predict that eventually, the lake residue and Franzia mixture will ferment into mystery flavor kombucha, which will be sold at the Retreat and labeled “local”.

Then, a cervine army raids the Deece on Meatless Mondays, stealing lost VCards from the info desk and guest swiping themselves. One Deece worker reports that they left the dining center cleaner than they’ve ever seen it before and regrets there was not more vanilla Silk in the dispenser. The deer leave a review that reads, “Why aren’t there more vegan options?”

Following this terrifying deer feat will be The Great Famine, occurring during study week across the nation. Many communities will resort to cannibalism, while others will relocate to Canada. Luckily, Vassar students adapt by drinking copious amounts of Diet Coke and feeding on each other’s crippling social anxiety.

Soon, random crop circles suddenly begin appearing at Vassar Farm, creating patterns that look like bars of Xanax. The Art History Department wants to add this exhibit to the Loeb, but Vassar Student Association argues it is better off used as the student space. Eventually, no conclusions are reached, and Vassar students take Xanax on the farm just to be meta.

Grim messages start appearing on our VPrint machines such as “The end is near,” “No sesame oil at the stir-fry station,” and “You will become a barista after graduation.” But luckily, these bleak messages create a glitch in the carding system where you can use your leftover VPrint as money for chasers or concocting the perfect jungle juice. Or practicing for your barista license.

All of a sudden, the Zombie Apocalypse will commence. Emergency Medical Services has trouble discerning whether zombies are attacking campus or this is just a new trend where students are experimenting with bath salts made in the Cushing basement. Regardless, zombie survival kits will become readily available at UpC with your smoothie for a meal swipe.

Due to its close proximity to Mudd, contaminants from our chemistry building will find their way into the pita and hummus express lunch, resulting in a contagious food-borne illness. Symptoms include uncontrollable twerking hypersensitivity to politically incorrect statements, and high aversion to anything gluten free. Baldwin has yet to find a cure for the epidemic, but students develop a homeopathic remedy consisting of a fifteen-second keg stand, turning off the light, and shouting “Cappy Hill!” in the bathroom mirror.

Finally, Matthew Vassar returns from the dead. He will attempt to consume all the beer on campus unless a sacrifice is made of two Strong virgins and the chicken fingers platter from Acrop (with honey mustard and ranch dressing as dipping sauces). He also wants to relay the following messages: “That statue makes my ass look enormous,” “I’m so post-Chili Wednesdays,” and “omg y is pbr so bad????”

Maybe it’s time to accept that the world is ending. On our last feeble days before Dec. 21, 2012, put everything you possibly can on your VCharge account. Sell your organic chemistry textbook and fly to the Bahamas. Replace your daily water intake with Crystal Palace, and end up as that drunk, naked guy streaking at the THs and screaming about neoliberal multiculturalism. The end of the world is looming; maybe it’s time to stop worrying about your internship next summer and prepare for the end.  

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