Author: Miles Rausch

The DSU Fall Theatre Production of Taming of the Shrew by William Shakespeare will be presented on November 1,2,3,4 at 7:30 p.m. at the Dakota Prairie Playhouse.

DSU students have free admission with I.D.

General Admission–$7.00
Faculty/Staff/Senior Citizens/Kids–$4.00

Ladies and gents. I realize that I have said naught to you in a long while. Life has become a tad bit more hectic. I’d forgotten how much time it takes to keep a girlfriend happy. You’d think she’d be content just to know me, but alas. Now she wants “dates” and “alone time” and “friendship”. This takes up a lot of time that I used to spend crying. I mean, writing on my webpage.

Something else to take up my time is a handy new program. It’s been quite the buzz. The recent news on the interwebnet today is the recent swinger of both sides, iTunes.

Remember Apples? I do. I remember way way back grade school. (Everything I am writing after this point is based on zero research. It’s very possible I don’t know what I’m talking about.) The computer lab we had was row upon row of Apple IIe computers. There they sat, silent and dark, waiting for us to give them food. We would cautiously pick out a piece of software and sit in the cold plastic chairs, facing the monsters. Then one child would go to carefully insert the software when a loud shriek tears through the thin, chilly air in the room.

Apple IIe’s demand the blood of seven-year-olds.

If one were to make one mistake, one would perish like so many before one. I learned to type really well. I also learned that if, while on the Oregon Trail, you get cholera or syphillis, you should stop to rest. Otherwise you will die and have to come up with a witty tombstone saying. It wasn’t that I couldn’t come up with any. Given the family business, I’ve seen my share of witty grave markers, but I didn’t want to die in the game. If I could just hunt all day every day, that would have been a much better game.

Those of us who followed the rules that the mighty Apple hath created walked away with a different feeling. Sure we lost half of our class, but we gained a respect for something we couldn’t fight. That thing is Apple Computers.

Then Apples became Macintoshes (awww, isn’t that cute?) but by the time our families started getting computers, they were all PCs, and they were much nicer than the blood thirsty Apple IIe. Plus, Windows does not require blood to work, only hemoglobin. Hemoglobin 2.0, actually.

So we grew up safe in the comfort of our fallible personal computers. We relished the fact that, if one thing could be counted on, it was a crash, virus, or odd behaviorism. Meanwhile, the minority were building themselves an unstoppable empire. Clutched tightly between the man-hands of a small market share and the bosom of a highly creative work-force.

When they finally resurfaced, the world was introduced to OS X. Boy did people fall in love. Mac Geeks were spotted by the thousands as they all tried to marry their computers and enjoy semi-normal relationships with the new operating system. But Mac OS X is slow to give it up, and so they had to wait for the next two iterations to come.

OS X came with some proprietary music playing/cd burning/cd ripping/playlist creating/crazy image rendering software called iTunes. This is slick software. Apple has this way of making me feel really jealous that I didn’t think of that. I could go on and on about this stuff but you can always read news on the net.

What’s my point?? Just like Windows had done so long ago, Mac is taking control of a market. The way to a man’s heart used to be graphics and marketing. Now the way to a man’s heart is mp3 playing. Music is a huge industry. Everyone listens to music, even Hitler. In fact, Hitler loved music and so did Jesus and Santa.

Everyone needs a program to do play their songs. My program of choice was Winamp. I loved it because it was not forced on me; it was sleek and small and skinable and pluginable. Now I like iTunes. I use it on my main machine, but not on my tablet (because lord knows I only have so much memory to spare).

What two major features does iTunes lack? Skinnability and plugin support. Dmmt, Apple. You make a great product but you limit it. Think of how the PC community would come out of the wood work to support your product if only you had skinning and plugins! Curses! Curses!

Alright, I’m better. It’s not the end of the world. I can skin my winamp and use those plugins and then use iTunes to play my music. Perfect. At least it doesn’t require blood. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must go feed my addictor.

MARILYN MANSON‘s soul was prayed for yesterday (October 16) by dozens of Mexican evangelical Christians protesting against his scheduled concert in the city of MONTERREY (November 5).

Local government buildings in the centre of the city were swamped by around 100 people singing hymns and praying for the self-proclaimed ‘God of F**k’.

Demonstration organiser Arsenia Campos said: “We are praying for him so that he can know God and become transformed.”

According to Reuters the City Council was given a petition of 3,000 signatures by the protesters earlier in the week, pleading with Monterrey Mayor Felipe de Jesus Cantu, though on Wednesday (October 15) the mayor said that the gig would be allowed to take place as planned.

I’m writing this in Math class. Oh, but which one? Numerical Methods. So much math…

What is Numerical Methods? It is a class that illustrates and studies ways to solve things. Ok. You know your calculator? You know how you hit “cos(40)” and it gives you a number? Well, how did the calculator know what to give you? It uses Numerical Methods. Numerical Methods is all about finding the best mimic to whatever function you want to solve. What function can you make up that looks nothing like the real function but will give you a really close number?

There are so many different ways to do this. You learn one way. Then you learn an easier way to do it. Then you learn a better way. Then you learn an easier way to do that…. This goes on and on until class ends, or you shoot yourself. What bugs me about this class is that everything we are learning to do by hand can be done much more easily on computer or calculator (which is a type of computer, I guess).

The point is, this is old news. It’s like learning how to make babies when all you want to do is adopt. Adopting is less painful, and it gives a needy child a loving home. If you would like more information on adopting your own child, please click here.

I hate when Avery says, “And that’s it.” Then he lifts his arms and drops them at his side, and, lord knows, I have no idea what he just said. There’s different ideas, notations, variables, subs, i’s, n’s, x’s. Enough to drive a man insane.

I’m tired today. Math Modeling hates me. I think I’ve found a class that is my match. I’ve gone so long and so far without really feeling stupid. I have, with some degree of success, been able to master math class after math class. Modeling, however, is a nemesis to behold. There is something about it that I just don’t get. I feel so lost. There is no book, so I only have my notes. Maybe that’s it. Or maybe my math luck has finally run out. Or maybe I just don’t pay enough attention. Or maybe this stuff is hard and it’s not my fault. Or maybe it’s Megan’s fault. but its not

Avery, “Well, let’s do one.” YOU do one. I couldn’t care less what happens when you figure out a Cubic Spline Interpolation. We have 8 equations, 6 conditions and 4 variables to figure out for this problem. And all he wants to do is connect some lines. It seems like a lot of work for a crappy art side-project.

I think back to Math Modeling. Palmer had us physically endure an exponentially growing population. He just keeps dividing the room in half. Pretty soon you couldn’t tell if we were snakes in mating season or really scared of the other guy in the room who was not in our class. I swear Justin Luitjens touched my ass.

Avery, “Don’t be surprised if this shows up on your take home final. But it probably won’t be in this nice format we found today.” Thank you. I was worried that I would never see my Spline again. Spline crunching action. Spline – more puns. Whatever.

megan is great. she is my favoritest person ever. It’s amazing the things that show up when you leave your computer unattended. Shocked face. I had a train of thought, and I have no idea what I was heading towards. This is how the dangers inherent in a website become exploited through nonchalant lethargy. I call it “rambling”, and that is what I’m doing right now. I’m totally avoiding being funny and just talking to you guys.

Because I can.

Girls are a major topic of this site. An “AWAYKEN POWERED” search of the site, will garner quite the list of sites. I’m not sure how many, exactly, because I’m lazy(desert).

“AWAYKEN POWERED” does not mean “good” or “useful”.

Posts like Girls Are Evil

Girls Are Evil 2

En Terra Saunt Tay

I Love Heather, How Can You Not?

Step One : Sign

A Sophomoric Attitude on Blasphemy

and the unfortunate

I Shouldn|t Have To Post About This.

Why do I bring these painful, depression-laden posts back to the painful, hungover lime light? I have an announcement to make.

I have a girlfriend.

Her name is Megan Flynn and she has an awesome website. You might have noticed a slew of completely ambiguous comments from “megan” or “meggie.” That’s her. So far, the most she has had to say is “Way to go Miles” but she will soon learn the art of website commenting.

Ok. She’s a freshman here at DSU. She’s an English/Design major. I met her through tutoring. As in, I tutor Math 021, and she comes by to flirt with me. Her friend Jenny has also commented on the site. It’s so weird how many coincidences there are between me and Jenny and me and Megan. So weird, that, were I to post it here, all of you would claw your eyes from your faces.

Conclusions are for nerds.

It’s happened to all of us. There we are at our birthday party. As a treat to those gathered, we get up to perform a routine of some sort, one which we have done a thousand times before. We sing or dance or juggle or set fires (whatever we are good at) but then something goes horribly wrong. Next thing we know we are in the intensive care unit in a Las Vegas hospital fighting for life.

This was the story last Friday. While I was quietly sitting at home reading the bible, one of this countries most famous and loved duos of magic became almost an uno. I am talking about Siegfried and Roy. Yes, the very same ambiguous couple where one has a name you can spell and has tigers and the other has a name I have to look up every time I type it and does magic.

Siggy and Roy were performing at the Mirage Hotel in Las Vegas for Roy’s 59th birthday party. During the midst of the show, at approximately 8:10 pm, Roy, whose real name is Roy Horn, walked on stage announcing that his tiger Montecore was about to make his first performance. This, however, was a lie (as most things in life are) since Montecore, whose real name is Jeremy Malchert, was a veteran of the stage. But then something went horribly wrong.

The 600 pound tiger sauntered on stage, acting drunk and unruly as his stage show requires, and stopped just within sight lines. Roy, having no magical ability, pulled the tiger to the center of the stage. The tiger, as his stage show does not require, head butted the entertainer. Roy, displeased with Montecore’s digression from the script, tapped him with his microphone. But then something went horribly wrong.

An eyewitness to the show reported that, “Then the tiger went like mad nuts. He stood up on his hind feet and decked that German guy. Then the tiger turned to the crowd and was all like ‘Now I will eat his soul’ and he chomped on his neck and carried him off. I was like, ‘Whoa! This show is awesome’ because I was sitting there for 40 minutes waiting for naked chicks to come out, and I get to gay guys with accents doing magic on tigers? What’s up with that?” Awayken.com was not able to validate this rendition of events.

The commonly held believe is that after Roy hit his tiger with his microphone (probably not a good idea), the tiger bit him in the arm. Roy, probably in a panic, started to beat the tiger with his microphone. Over and over the crowd could only hear the *thump* *thump* of microphone on fur, and the panicked screams of a German entertainer about to die. Then the tiger snatched Roy around the neck and carried him off “like a rag doll.” But then something went horribly wrong.

It was reported (by that same stoner above) that Siggy then “ran on stage, right, and floated that other guy’s body out into his space shuttle. It was unreal.” In reality, Roy was rushed to a hospital where his condition was reported as “critical”, and doctors were reported as being “cautiously optimistic.” The tiger was sent to his room with no internet privileges, and, as of yet, no charges have been filed. Montecore could not be reached for comment.

To be honest, readers, when I read the actual article, I laughed ROFL style, as befits the bad person I am. Honestly. How beautifully ironic can you get? He didn’t even do magic. All Roy did was find tigers and put them on stage. He was an animal trainer and his boyfriend did all the work. Still he is loved. Still he is written about.

The recent events have sparked a waterfall of interest in the general public. Everywhere on the street the words “Hi” and “Hello” are being spoken. If you replace those with “Roy” and “Dead” then you know how hard it is to have a conversation with people nowadays. But then something went horribly wrong.

Even the teenagers are getting into it. Being wholly responsible for making English more confusing, pre-teen/teen/only-slightly-post-teen students around America are coining the phrase “pull a Montecore” and “to Roy.” To “pull a Montecore” means to attack a friend as a 600 pound tiger might attack a gay German half-magician. Inversely, “to Roy” is to bear such an attack. “To Roy” is an infinitive so you could say, “Hey, Mom, quit Roying” or “President Bush just Royed that poem!”

The rest of the population is taking a more reverent approach, watching TV. The internet, too, has gained slight popularity as television strives to keep the nation abreast growing developments. It may one day be said that this event is what “made the internet”, but it is too soon to tell.

Despite the ordeal, Roy has still managed to communicate with doctors and family gathered in his room by a system of blinks and thumbs ups. Earlier today, he released this statement. “I have worked with these tigers for years. Montecore, himself, is one of my stage favorites. What has happened is a testament to the danger inherent in the field of fooling wild animals into not eating me. I do have this to say, though. I totally didn’t see that coming.”

Neither did us, Roy. Neither did us.

Ordinary people become extraordinary through their deaths. Two years ago on September 11th, just such a thing happened. A horrible tragedy brought courageous firemen and police officers to the same level as epic heroes.

Some people are extraordinary even before death, and this makes their death all the more important to society. These people are legends as men, but they become deities as corpses. Dirty, rotting corpses.

I’m talking about Johnny Cash’s death. I’m also talking about John Ritter. He was a great blah blah blah. For his outstanding services to cinema and television, John Ritter was given only a small sentence in Purgatory. Given recent attempts by Jehovah’s Witnesses to make it in, certain restrictions have been put on an entrance to Heaven.

As a measure of precaution, whenever someone graduates purgatory, they are made to interview with God, who questions them on their life. The following is an entrance interview between God and John Ritter.

God : [getting up to shake his hand] Hi John. How are you?
JR : I would pun one of the titles of my movies, but I really can’t remember anything I acted in.
God : [laughs] Yeah, I do. How was your stay in Purgatory?
JR : Uneventful, mostly. I didn’t mind it so much.
God : Let’s start. [rustles pages] Let’s discuss your movie career.
JR : Oh, God.
God : What was that?
JR : Umm… Oh, wait. Okay, I get it. Right. Uh… My movie career.
God : Right. I saw Problem Child. I liked it.
JR : Thank you.
God : What the hell were you thinking with sequels?
JR : Well, I didn’t write them. I just acted in them.
God : Just because you didn’t kill the kitten, doesn’t mean you didn’t rip the arms off of a smaller kitten and use those to beat the kitten.
JR : Oh My… I can’t believe you said that. That’s horrible!
God : Hey, you did it. You, Mr. Sick-Face. So… Three’s Company.
JR : Yeah.
God : [silence]
JR : Ok. I guess that wasn’t HTVs highest rated sitcom.
God : Lowest.
JR : Really?
God : Ever.
JR : It was funny.
God : [silence] [shrugs] Yeah, it was. And that Chrissy…
JR : Oh, no.
God : What?
JR : Please don’t.
God : I think we should talk about Chrissy.
JR: I don’t think we should.
God : I am God. [pause] Why shouldn’t we talk about Chrissy?
JR : Because I would feel uncomfortable getting an erection in Heaven.
God : Yeah, I would, too.
JR : You can… ?
God : [laughs] No. What are you? Stupid?
JR : Can we get to the issue at hand?
God : Allright. So, it says here that you crashed a burning bus of orphan children into a convent while screaming the foulest obsenities known in any language.
JR : What?
God : [frowning] That’s not true?
JR : No! I died of aortic dissection on the set of my new show.
God : No school bus?
JR : Of course not!
God : Oh. Well… good for you.
JR : [starts crying] This isn’t going well, is it?
God : You know what wasn’t going well?
JR : Please don’t ridicule me anymore. I just died. I’m still adjusting to that. You know how hard it is to go from being the top of the world to being six feet under it?
God : Do you know what it’s like to bury your son? No. You don’t. I do.
JR : I … I’m sorry.
God : I am God. [pause] Okay. That raps up our interview.
JR: Great. So, am I in?
God: We’ll let you know in 3 to 6 weeks.
JR: 3 to 6 weeks? Johnny Cash got to walk right in.
God: [silence] [raises eyebrow]
JR: 3 to 6 weeks. Got it.

In 1997, a man named Richard Shermin worked an interesting summer job for a friend of his. His friend, author Justin Laramy, was compiling a book of angel stories, a topic that both men had always had especial interest. Richard, for seven dollars an hour, helped his friend read through and find the most interesting angel stories sent to them.

They used Laramy’s house for this endeavor. Scattered about his living room were piles for ‘interesting’, ‘generic’, ‘boring’, and ‘made-up’. They would take turns reading aloud from the letters they received. One that Shermin picked up had no return address. It simply had the initials RS written in the upper left corner. Written in shaky penmanship, Shermin struggled to read the handwriting of the excited or upset correspondant.

“This is my angel. She is sent to me from above in the form of this statue. I recall the day it happened like yesterday. I have a route through these cities in the Birmingham Alabama area where I check on cemeteries for upkeep.
I was driving my truck past this cemetery one April evening. Well, I thought I saw something and got out to investigate. As it would happen, I saw this statue of an angel in the cemetery and nothing else. I found myself entranced with it. I couldn�t look away.

“I finally found the strength to move on. I got back in the truck and made for the next stop. When I got there the cemetery was in pieces. The town too was ripped apart as if someone had just mowed it down. I found out that a tornado had torn through there not 5 minutes previous. I would have been killed there.”

Enclosed was a picture of the cemetery and the statue. In a sort of shock, his friend noticed Richard drop the packet of both letter and photos. Laramy, concerned for his friend, asked what was wrong. Shermin could say nothing but instead showed the letter to Laramy. There at the bottom, signed in a familiar hand, was the name Richard Shermin.

It was obvious that Richard Shermin had not written this, as he had no angelic experiences, but the handwriting was indeed his. Neither of them could conceive how such a letter was possible. Deciding it was a hoax, Shermin himself disdainfully tossed the letter on top of the ‘made-up’ pile and didn’t give it another thought.

In March of 1998, Richard Shermin’s father died of cancer. Despite being well within retirement age, the old man was still responsible for the care of several cemeteries in north eastern Jefferson County, Alabama. The death, while evident before, came suddenly and Richard decided to continue his father’s work until a replacement could be found and hired. Every week he would drive from cemetery to cemetery checking the status.

On April 8th, a Wednesday, Richard was again on rounds. His mother begged him to wait until Thursday to do it, as she heard there was bad weather coming, but he disregarded her warning, wishing to spend his Thursday evening doing other things.

As his mother predicted, the weather turned stormy, but Richard continued his route. With the radio off, he was not aware that at 7:50 pm, central time, an F5 rated Tornado had crossed over into Jefferson County and was leaving little behind. While checking the water spickets in a Cemetery in Nolanville, he came upon a statue. It held his attention for the longest time. He knew it because he had seen it in that picture last summer.

Not wanting to believe the letter, but unable to look away, Richard stood there for the longest time trying to make sense of it. Finally he wrested himself from the angel’s gaze. It couldn’t be true. Still in doubt, he got into his truck and drove the path to Village Creek Junction. There he was shocked to find the town in shambles and the cemetery a mess. A category F5 tornado had just passed through the town.

Richard drove himself to a working phone, several miles away in Pratt City, and called Justin Laramy. The conversation was short. Laramy had heard of the tornadoes in the area but seemed satisfied that his friend was okay. “I didn’t really call to tell you I was okay, though,” said a slightly shaken Richard Shermin. “I think that maybe you should put that Richard Shermin letter into the interesting pile instead. Let’s just say, I finally believe the person who wrote it.”

There were three tornadoes that have been identified as being produced by one thunderstorm that moved across Central Alabama Wednesday evening. The first tornado affected Pickens and Tuscaloosa counties, the second affected Tuscaloosa and Jefferson counties, and the third affected St. Clair County.

That day there were three tornadoes, an F3, an F5, and an F2, that rocked the central Alabama area starting at roughly 7:00 pm and ending entirely at about 9:15 pm. More than 1 000 homes were destroyed, 250 people injured, and 32 lives lost. Thanks to an angel and a letter, one of those lives was not Richard Shermin.

Download it at deviantART.

by Ann Michelle Daniels, Extension family life, parenting, and child care specialist, Bill Epperson, Extension veterinarian

Summer is coming to an end. You want to go out and play. But you are scared. You have heard about mosquitoes and West Nile Virus. There are mosquitoes around your yard and you don�t want to get bit. End of summer or not, you decide to stay inside.

GUESS WHAT?!!! You can still go outside and play if you follow some simple rules. So go ahead!! Enjoy the rest of your summer!

By understanding the virus, we are able to protect ourselves from it. This information on the West Nile Virus will help you protect yourself.

What is West Nile Virus?
It is a virus that gets to people when they are bitten by infected mosquitoes. Not all mosquitoes are infected. In fact, only a very very small number of mosquitoes are actually infected.

Can the West Nile Virus make my family or me sick?
Remember, only a very; very, small number of mosquitoes are infected with the virus. So just because a mosquito bit you does not mean you will get sick. In fact, even if an infected mosquito bit you, the chances of you getting sick are still very, very small. Healthy kids don�t get the virus very often. But if they do get sick, they don�t usually get very sick.

How will I know if I�m sick?
It would feel a lot like the flu. There would be fever, headaches, muscle aches, tiredness, and joint pain, and perhaps a rash.

Does this mean that everyone who feels bad or has the symptoms has the West Nile Virus? NO!!

Most people don�t get sick at all. Remember, the chances are very; very small. But if you are feeling bad, it is always important to tell your parents or an adult.

What is West Nile Encephalitis?
Encephalitis (it sounds like in-sef-fah-lite-us) is a big word for swelling of the brain, and the West Nile Virus can cause it. Remember, healthy kids usually don�t get very sick. Encephalitis usually affects people who are old�over 50 years old�or who have been unhealthy in the past.

Can I get West Nile Virus from animals or other people?
No. But remember, it is still important not to play with strange animals or touch dead animals.

How can I keep my family and myself safe?
Start by learning a little about mosquitoes. Did you know that mosquitoes are more active in the early morning and right before the sun goes down? They like being around water. They really like water that is not moving.

For example, if you have an old wagon outside that is full of water, a mosquito might come along and lay her eggs in it. Older mosquitoes like to live in tall grass or weeds.

Other ways to keep safe are:
� Finish playing outside before it begins to get dark. This is when most mosquitoes are out.
� Wear long sleeve shirts and pants when playing outside. (Make sure you don�t get too hot. Drink lots of water).
� Don�t play near tall grasses or standing water.
� Make sure your toys are not holding water. For Example: Dump the water out of the old wagon and make sure the plastic swimming pool is empty when nobody is using it.
� Have your parents spray your clothes with insect repellent. (Ask them to use repellent that has DEET in it.) They can contact the Extension office if they need more information.
� Don�t use too much of the insect repellent. ALWAYS follow the directions on the insect repellent.
� Tell your parents or an adult when you have a mosquito bite.

Remember, the rest of the summer can still be fun and safe. You just have to follow some simple rules to protect yourself. Always talk to an adult or your parents if you are worried about something or if you have questions about your health. The more information you have, the safer you can be.

(Parents: This material is provided for informational purposes only and is not a substitute for medical care. Direct specific questions to your medical provider.)

Southwest Minnesota State University is a wonderful college. Thousands of people travel from all over the world to attend this university. Our college wins awards for its academics year after year thanks to wonderful facilities, resources and teachers. So why is it that at such a high class, technologically advanced, award winning college our internet access is so unreliable in the dorms? That doesn’t make any sense to me.

Chatting over MSN or AIM has become as frustrating as getting stuck behind an old lady in a no passing zone doing 40 in a 65 mph zone. It just makes you punch your monitor and then continue on with what you were doing.

Well I took it a little bit further, and I stress the “Little Bit.” I went to computer services. Computer services can be a little intimidating to the common folk. This place has more computers lying around than California has governor candidates. It made me quite nervous. I spoke to Shawn Headman about the disappointing internet connection in SMSU’s residence halls. He calmed me down and explained that the resident halls are using a cable modem which is five years old. That’s right – when we got this modem Mark McGuire hit seventy home runs in one season. Now he hits seventy miles per hour on his way to bingo. McGuire is retired now, and everyone agrees it’s time this modem is sent to the bench, too.

You may be wondering, “Hey Bryce, sure it’s five years old, but it should still be capable of going a little faster, right?” Well, you are right, it should. So why the slowness? The evil blaster worm, illegal file swapping applications and the amount of computers on campus are all to blame. Back when our modem was new, Napster had not even been created yet and if you had a computer at college you were a huge nerd.

So what are the techies in charge doing about our internet problem? They are tweaking it every few weeks and praying that our new modem is coming soon. Everyone thought the modem would be here before classes started. Now it is all up to leases and lawyers. Talk about fun.

So please, do not burn down computer services and do not leave SMSU because of the slow and unreliable internet. Blame the lawyers. They’re not here to defend themselves.

I am a new student to Southwest Minnesota State University, but, being a transfer student from South Dakota State University, I am not new to cafeteria-style food.

At SDSU the cafeteria was similar to the way I am sure heaven is designed. There were six different restaurants to choose from: Chinese food, grilled food, homemade foods, Mexican food, a java city and an ice cream parlor. Needless to say, I didn’t transfer for the food. I know it doesn’t matter what college you go to, the food is going to make you think, “Is this edible?”, but it really isn’t good here at SMSU. When I transferred here, I heard repeated warnings to watch out for the food by people I knew going in. I took their warnings too lightly.

First off, the lunch room is so small that it feels like a replica. Doll houses have more room than this. Have you ever eaten around noon? It gets packed tighter than a college student’s budget. So you have to wait and wait and what is your reward for waiting? Ribs burned to a crisp, hard mayonnaise for your sandwich and wilted lettuce. Can life get better? Well, only if you go to State Street Cafe. Please take that sentence with a school lunch helping of sarcasm.

They messed up my order. Last week I thought I ordered a pizza – but I must have said “pie crust soaked with grease” instead. I did not even see that on the menu; I must have been the lucky customer. I am not saying it’s the cook’s fault, I just get the feeling that all the students here are the proverbial red-headed stepchildren and SMSU is our parent. We don’t get all the care and love we deserve.

There is hope for the younger students here at SMSU – the new Student Center. After the old one was burned down they quit letting people go there and eat, who knows why? But rumor has it that the next Student Center will have two stories of Student Center goodness and almost one entire floor is to be dedicated to food. Things are looking up, but dinner isn’t going to taste any better thinking about the future. If it weren’t for the smiles and ice cream bars, great pizza and cereal I’d eat there less than everyday.

I’m a sucker for a pretty smile.

Hitchcock was a genius. To really understand this, though, you have to put him in context. Like anything, put into context, it makes more sense. Al was, among other things, a brilliant cinematic innovator. He was always testing his audience.

One of his best works was a movie called “Psycho.” Everyone knows this film. It has bound itself in pop culture for decades. I once saw a screening of “Psycho” where they talked to other prominent directors and writers and actors about their experiences with “Psycho.”

What I learned is that Vera Miles, who played Lila Crane, was a small actress. Janet Leigh, who played Marion Crane, was a big star. She was a name to be sure. The film, in fact, opens with her. We follow her as she steals money from her boss and drives off. We feel the panick as she narrowly escapes a couple police offices on her way.

Finally she stops at the Bates Motel run by a very well acted Norman Bates, Anthony Perkins. After getting her room and setting up her stuff, she decides to take a shower and wash away her inequity. Big mistake! Norman Bates slashes her in the shower. BAM. The biggest name in the picture is done. She’s out. No more Janet Leigh – she’s dead and not even flashbacks can bring her off screen.

One man said that, after seeing this movie, he felt raped. This blatant disregard for audience expectations had left a lot of people angry and hurt and confused. I never really had a movie that did that me. I’ve never felt raped, until now.

Math Modeling is a nice class. So far there is no homework, no book, and so far very little life-jarring new ideas. That is until yesterday. I was sitting in class, on time for once, thinking about how cool Fibonacci Numbers are. Dr Palmer came in, solemn faced and quiet.

“Remember last week that we were talking about Imaginary Numbers. You remember these from High School. They were written in the form (3 + 4i). i = square root of one, remember?”

We nodded in blind, innocent agreement.

“Remember when you had trigonometry. We had these things like cosine and sine and tangent. You punch a magical number on your calculator and got an answer?”

We nodded, less sure of the innocence of what we knew.

“Well, it’s all a lie. Trigonometry IS the Imaginary Numbers. Trigonometry was just a pretty face used to teach Imaginary Numbers to High School kids.”

What? Murmurs over took the class. We turned, furrowed brow, to our neighbor and discussed this. No trigonometry? There is no trig?

“But that’s not all. There are no Imaginary Numbers. That one should have been easy. How can a number be imaginary? It’s a number or it isn’t. Imaginary Numbers are just a pretty face put on Complex Numbers.”

What?? Not only is there no Trig, but there are no Imaginary Numbers! We’ve been lied to TWICE by the math community. Everyone who teaches this stuff must know this, right? There isn’t a chance that they save it for professors, is there?

How often did your math teacher have to keep a straight face when saying “cosine”? How often did your math teacher have to stifle giggles at the thought of teaching “trig”? Get paid to teach nothing. Sounds like a deal to me.

“There’s one more thing. Complex Numbers are made up. They are actually a pretty face put on points on a complex plain. They are just coordinates, dressed up in formals, to dance in front of you and mock you. Forever.”

Things are looking glum. There is outrage in the class. Justin Luitjens walked out in tears, screaming curses through his clenched jaw. Two or three students had to be revived for class to continue on. Dr Palmer, himself, looked a bit upset. It might be that his conscience was getting to him after all these years.

Just like the moment when a mother tells her son that he is adopted (and I can’t wait for that day), so was this moment. The sweet and sour truth was out there, on the board. There were feelings of betrayal and angst. No one looked Dr Palmer in the eye when we left.

Learning is a dangerous thing. It stung that guy at the beginning of this post, it stung the adopted son, and it stung me. They say, “The truth will set you free.” It’s hard to believe in that statement anymore. This all proves that there is never a good time for news like this.

Especially not junior year in college.