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Sports

Soccer Redmen, undefeated in preseason, have high expectations

A timely goal from Sebastian Munro earned the McGill men’s soccer team a dramatic victory in the Old Four tournament final this past weekend. Munro’s rocket hit the top netting in the 85th minute, giving the Redmen a 2-1 victory over the host Queen’s Golden Gaels.

The result moved the Redmen’s record to 3-0-1 in preseason play and was the second Old Four title in three years for McGill.

The Redmen hope to continue their strong pre-season play this weekend as they travel south of the border to battle two NCAA teams from Massachusetts. They will take on Amherst College in Amherst on September 4, followed by a game at Williams College in Williamstown on September 5.

The Redmen, who were ranked second in the country by CIS in yesterday’s rankings, will open against Sherbrooke on September 10 at home, with kickoff at 8:30. p.m.

Sports

Redmen show promise for upcoming season

For four decades, Redmen football victories against rival University of Toronto were treated like blue moons, solar eclipses and Maple Leafs’ Stanley Cup — they didn’t happen very often. McGill removed itself from that list Saturday as the team opened its gridiron season with a 40-17 win over the Varsity Blues in an exhibition contest at the Varsity Centre in Toronto. The victory was the Redmen’s first against Toronto since McGill’s triumph in the 1979 Yates Cup. The win sent a message to the rest of Canadian Interuniversity Sport that McGill, which won a game last year for the first time in three years, is a resurgent team looking to do even more damage in 2010.

The teams began the game hesitantly as both starting quarterbacks threw interceptions early on. Toronto opened up the scoring midway through the first quarter on a 13-yard touchdown pass by Andrew Gillis.

“Even though we started off poorly, the guys stayed with it and continued to believe and play hard,” said Head Coach Sonny Wolfe.

McGill evened up the score when sophomore quarterback Jonathan Collin connected with Charles-Antoine Sinotte for a 48-yard touchdown strike. Collin would finish the day 11-for-17 with one interception.

The McGill ground game was particularly effective, especially the relief performance of freshman running back Sean Murphy. After an Austin Anderson rouge put McGill up 8-7, Murphy broke for a 59-yard run, earning the first touchdown of his career. Two Anderson field goals in the last minute of the half pushed the score to 21-7 before Murphy struck again with a four-yard run from scrimmage, capping off an 86-yard drive to begin the third quarter. Although junior Taylor Kuprowski will handle the majority of the carries once the regular season gets under way, Murphy shows promising potential.

While McGill’s offense was explosive, the defense performed just as well. The Redmen shut down their Old Four rivals, holding them to a mere 26 yards on the ground and an average of just 1.1 yards per rush.

Since the game was an exhibition, the 1,000 fans at the Varsity Centre got a good look at a number of players who will occupy substitute roles when the regular season kicks off on Sunday. All 56 players on the Redmen roster got some playing time in Wolfe’s first opportunity to see his squad battle another team.

“It was an away game against an opponent and an opportunity to have some team-building going on,” said Wolfe.

For a program that has been mediocre at best over the last four years, the future looks bright as many defensive starters and a sophomore star quarterback return. With one year of experience under his belt and joined on offence by returning vets in fifth-year wide receiver Sinotte and kicker Austin Anderson, Collin could just be the leader of a group that gets McGill back in the playoffs for the first time since 2006. While a three-win year and a fifth-place finish in 2009 was an improvement over the goose eggs of the two previous years, the Redmen could be headed even higher.

Sports

INTERVIEW: Red Thunder brings the noise

The Tribune sat down with Red Thunder Co-Founder Monika Fabian for an interview on the group and its plans.

What is Red Thunder?

Red Thunder is McGill’s varsity sports fans club. We have a deal with athletics that members [get a shirt and bracelet for $25 that grants them access to] any varsity game for free throughout the year. It’s a great place to meet friends, and you get drink deals, [and] we have sectioned-off seating in the arena and gym. For specific games against big rivals we host big events, and all the “Thunder Nation” comes to all these events. The first one we had last year, which we expect to do again this year, was homecoming, and it was just a sea of red, crazy, rowdy Thunderites. It was actually the first time the football team won in quite a long time, and a lot of the players put it to the fact that the crowd was just so awesome. The main underlying goal, aside from just having fun and watching sports, is to support the varsity athletes. McGill is often looked at as more of an academic institution than anything else, and people really don’t mention all that much about our athletics which, to be honest, have some of the best teams in Canada.

How successful was Red Thunder last year?

I think we’ve done a really good job, actually. The first event [at the beginning of last year] was amazing. We had 350 members last year, and when we are there everyone knows. We have our noisemakers, and we have Big Bessie, our loudspeaker. Sometime we coordinate with Fight Band. We just have our “sea of red,” as we call it when all our supporters come.

Are there events for people who are interested in school spirit but don’t necessarily want to or can’t afford to pay $25?

This year, it’s going to be a lot more open. I know Gerts really wants to have more of a sports ambience, so Nick Drew [SSMU VP Finance and Operations] and Tom Fabian [SSMU VP Internal] will be showing things like Monday Night Football. They even painted the walls red and have throwback jerseys. And that will be open, to everyone not just Red Thunder members.

We make almost no profit off of [the fee]. We have to pay the gym $10 per membership, for use of facilities and the drink deals and sectioned off seating. Then the cost of the t-shirts and extras pretty much breaks even. After winter break the cost lowers to $15.

What are your goals for the year?

To increase our number of fans. We hope to get about 600 members this year. We’re launching a clothing line. There will be some throwback shirts and we’re definitely getting some cool new wear to promote. [We want to get] different faculties involved. I think that’s a great way for people who aren’t so into athletics or sports to learn about being a fan and get involved like they wouldn’t otherwise.

Inspirational words?

I think we’ve pretty much been preaching to the choir. Everyone wants to get involved and be rowdy and be rah-rah McGill! In the end, students at McGill are proud to be here. [Coming to McGill sports games is] a great way to get to know your athletes, a great way to make friends, a great way to promote spirit, and a nice break from the academic side of school.

You can check out Red Thunder’s website at ssmu.mcgill.ca/redthunder. Membership is $25.

Behind the Bench, Sports

THIRD MAN IN: Expecting the unexpected…and not getting it

Every few years, the stars will align to deliver the hard-core sports fan with an entire summer’s worth of quality entertainment. Of course, there are always specific dates in June, July, and August that are worth marking down, but only in the rarest of years can you justify to your parents, friends, or significant other the necessity of staying glued to a television or computer screen for 60 days straight.

I had high expectations for the summer of 2010. With the World Cup, Wimbledon, and the most important offseason in the history of the NBA on tap, this summer promised an unprecedented torrent of constant, riveting sports news. I built this summer up to be something special, like catching a glimpse of a rare comet and momentarily rediscovering the feelings of wonder, happiness, and optimism I had as a child. By the end of July, though, I had come to accept two things: that comets are really just dirty clumps of rock and ice, and that predictability is one of the worst things a sports fan can experience.

It started with the World Cup. It isn’t really up for debate that the World Cup is the greatest sporting event in the world. The significance of each match and the constant frenetic energy that hangs in the air throughout the course of the tournament is unparalleled in the sports world. However, I couldn’t help feeling that this year’s Cup lacked the magic of years past. Sure, there were some pretty plays and great individual performances, but when the most memorable parts of a tournament are the botched calls, the dives, and the general lack of goals, something isn’t quite right. The World Cup final didn’t necessarily lack in quality-I jumped up and down as much as any other Spanish bandwagoner when Andres Iniesta scored in added time-but watching Spain hoist the trophy didn’t stir up the level of excitement I thought it would, primarily because I never expected them to lose.

Subtract the ridiculous three-day match between John Isner and Nicolas Mahut from the equation, and Wimbledon 2010 was more anticlimactic than ever. Federer looked off his game from the start, and it was clear early on in his match against Thomas Berdych that a 17th Grand Slam title was not in the works. Once Berdych arrived in the final, the tournament was effectively over: give me someone who honestly thought Nadal would lose, and I will call him a liar. Once again, the expected outcome corresponded depressingly with the final result.

If a single moment could have salvaged a summer of predictability, though, it would have been one man’s desire to prove to the world that loyalty, pride, and individual legacy can still trump the allure of money, fame, and power in the over-commercialized, media-saturated sports industry of today. Alas, this was not to be. As I “witnessed” Lebron James wipe the blood off his knife and spit in the face of every basketball fan outside the city of Miami, I realized that I’ve become too dependant on the unexpected in sports. I wanted something inspirational and unbelievable-what I received was crass, loud, and artificial.

Perhaps more than anything else, the success of the underdog and the thrill of the upset are what make professional sports so enjoyable. If an unexpected result on the scoreboard is too much to ask for, though, sports fans will gladly settle for anything genuine and heartfelt that contrasts with the all-too-common perception of pro sports as an arrogant, selfish, and profiteering. This summer didn’t deliver on either count, but I’m trying hard to be optimistic, and I’ve already cordoned off the summer of 2012 in my calendar in preparation for the London Olympics. In the meantime, I’ll be taking my viewing talents to the World Series of Blackjack, where apparently the unexpected happens all the time.

Sports

Soccer Martlets win fifth straight preseason match

Paced by a 29th minute goal from Alexandra Morin-Boucher, the McGill women’s soccer team claimed the exhibition Old Four tournament crown in Kingston this past weekend. Morin-Boucher’s goal and a strong performance from rookie keeper Valérie Labbé helped the Martlets coast to a 1-0 road victory over the University of Toronto Varsity Blues.

“Winning this tournament showed our team has a lot of potential,” said Marc Mounicot, head coach of the Martlets. “We are a young squad with only one fourth-year player and this tournament really allowed us to test out all of players and see the depth of our squad.”

The victory was the Martlets’ fifth in a row, and their strong pre-season should boost their confidence as they prepare to build on a QSSF finals appearance last season.

The Martlets’ regular season opener will be at Molson Stadium on September 10 against the Sherbrooke Vert et Or. Kickoff is slated for 6 p.m.

Rally Racing

Laoreet dolore magna aliquam erat

This is some dummy copy. You’re not really supposed to read this dummy copy, it is just a place holder for people who need some type to visualize what the actual copy might look like if it were real content.

If you want to read, I might suggest a good book, perhaps Hemingway or Melville. That’s why they call it, the dummy copy. This, of course, is not the real copy for this entry. Rest assured, the words will expand the concept. With clarity. Conviction. And a little wit.

In today’s competitive market environment, the body copy of your entry must lead the reader through a series of disarmingly simple thoughts.

All your supporting arguments must be communicated with simplicity and charm. And in such a way that the reader will read on. (After all, that’s a reader’s job: to read, isn’t it?) And by the time your readers have reached this point in the finished copy, you will have convinced them that you not only respect their intelligence, but you also understand their needs as consumers.

As a result of which, your entry will repay your efforts. Take your sales; simply put, they will rise. Likewise your credibility. There’s every chance your competitors will wish they’d placed this entry, not you. While your customers will have probably forgotten that your competitors even exist. Which brings us, by a somewhat circuitous route, to another small point, but one which we feel should be raised.

Long copy or short – You decide

As a marketer, you probably don’t even believe in body copy. Let alone long body copy. (Unless you have a long body yourself.) Well, truth is, who‘s to blame you? Fact is, too much long body copy is dotted with such indulgent little phrases like truth is, fact is, and who’s to blame you. Trust us: we guarantee, with a hand over our heart, that no such indulgent rubbish will appear in your entry. That’s why God gave us big blue pencils. So we can expunge every example of witted waffle.

For you, the skies will be blue, the birds will sing, and your copy will be crafted by a dedicated little man whose wife will be sitting at home, knitting, wondering why your entry demands more of her husband‘s time than it should.

But you will know why, won‘t you? You will have given her husband a chance to immortalize himself in print, writing some of the most persuasive prose on behalf of a truly enlightened purveyor of widgets. And so, while your dedicated reader, enslaved to each mellifluous paragraph, clutches his newspaper with increasing interest and intention to purchase, you can count all your increased profits and take pots of money to your bank. Sadly, this is not the real copy for this entry. But it could well be. All you have to do is look at the account executive sitting across your desk (the fellow with the lugubrious face and the calf-like eyes), and say ”Yes! Yes! Yes!“ And anything you want, body copy, dinners, women, will be yours. Couldn’t be fairer than that, could we?

Opinion

Digital culture

Moving away from home for the first time triggered something inside my mind. As a Freshman, a sense of loss washed over me, and this sorrow manifested itself into a bizarre syndrome, an inexplicable dependency, a mind-boggling complex.

A small fish in an increasingly bigger pond, I yearn for communication with those I left behind. Technology, in the form of e-mail, presents the perfect solution for my need of maintaining those invaluable connections.

I’ll be the first to admit it. I need my e-mail. Yeah, that’s right. I am addicted to my e-mail.

When a long hard day at school had gotten to me, I decide to seek solace in my faithful HP Pavilion 7940. On instinct, I opened Internet Explorer and went straight to the Hotmail website. This daily ritual has become second nature to me, a habit as necessary as my mid-day nap. I logged in, and as I waited for the page to load, I felt the anticipation and excitement building up inside of me.

The familiar mix of Hotmail blues and whites greeted me and my eyes immediately shot to the left side of the page, holding my breath. The ‘1 new’ beside my Inbox sent a wave of ecstasy through my body. Somebody loves me!

Impatiently, I scrolled to the bottom of the page. “Hi, I miss you!” was the subject of the latest addition to my mail. I was beside myself! I clicked on it to read the message, expecting to be greeted with warm sentiments of well-wishing and inquiries about my new life. Instead, what met my eyes were bold neon letters: “FREE HARDCORE PORN” and “COME AND GET IT.”

I was crushed. Duped again! It felt like someone had ripped my heart out, chewed on it, ground it up into pieces, and then spit on it. Disappointment was the order of the day.

These spammers are cold and ruthless. They prey on the pathetic nature of people like myself, and manipulate our feelings in a form or ruthless guerilla marketing.

And I have had enough.

I refuse to forward another e-mail. I think my sex life will be just fine, thank you. I do not care for the new wardrobe GAP will send me. Oh, of course the offer is valid – the President of GAP obviously typed and signed the e-mail himself.

Yes, I am cruel and cold-hearted, for I will not pass this on so that all the starving children of the world will receive $100 each from God. I am sorry about your ‘poor son Jimmie’ with a rare case of whatever disease you have conjured up, but I doubt sending this on will raise funds for The Foundation of Jimmie’s Rare Disease.

My friends know I love them, I do not need to forward e-mails with horrid poems with AABBCC rhyme schemes that my English teacher would cringe at, and which end in “xoxo hUgGLiEs n sNuGgLiEs xoxo.” I doubt my crush will notice me if I send this to 1-5 people, kiss me if I send it to 6-10, go steady with me if I send it to 11-15, or marry me should this reach 16-20 people.

I have had my share of cartoon porn and, call me crazy, but Bart Simpson and Fred Flinstone in provocative positions really do nothing for me. Oh, and those darn personality quizzes have just devastated me. Question 5 asks whether I prefer the Backstreet Boys or N’Sync, and since I answered neither, it has been concluded that I am neither cool nor popular. Drat. And I am sorry to burst your bubble, but world peace will not come about simply by forwarding an e-mail petition with 5000 typed names to the King of the World. Ditto for world hunger.

Furthermore, I am eighteen years old. I do not need to look 10 years younger, or “turn back the clock and turn up the energy now,” no matter how many exclamation marks you tack onto the end of that. I am not worried about my wrinkles or my cellulite, and I think I’ll pass on the “rejuvenate every cell in your body and soul” offer. Heck, I didn’t even know my soul had cells.

I do not need my debt consolidated, nor do I have any desire to see pictures of prepubescent girls. And for the record, mammals and midgets posing with them aren’t appealing incentives to me.

As for a revealing and accurate glimpse into my future for the extraordinary price of $3.99 a minute? I just may have to pass. And last time I checked, the size of my penis was just fine so I doubt I will need to increase it by 10 inches, but thank you for your concern.

Then again…social status, a styling new wardrobe, the unconditional love of the object of my affection, the chance to save the world, and not to mention never-ending happiness do seem rather appealing.

Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad if I hit the ‘Forward’ button…what have I got to lose? Morals shmorals…who’s it going to hurt anyway, it’s just another forward.

Opinion

Ain’t nothing but a P thang: Love me, validate me, confirm and poke me

Jared had Subway. Fergie had Jenny Craig. I, Panthea Lee, have the Facebook. Just as those above institutions changed the lives of J-Money and F-Train, the Facebook has transformed the life of yours truly. (Note: for those poor, deprived souls that know not of what I speak, go to Thefacebook.com and prepare to see the light.) Before the Facebook, I led a shameful existence. With a none too attractive visage and a horrible memory for names and faces, I was destined for social ruin. The appearances thing I couldn’t do so much about-fret not, I’m not one of those ugly folk that tell themselves it’s what’s inside that counts; I know no one wants to befriend a fugly. With the Facebook, this is no longer a problem.

My profile page showcases an image of myself that is Photoshopped to perfection-you’d be surprise what the blur tool can do. This allows me to trick beautiful people-yes, even ugly people don’t want to be friends with other visual horrors-into “confirming” me as a friend. Once they have been duped into becoming one of my Internet pals, they feel obliged to smile back when I see them out and about. And I milk this for all it’s worth. Finally, to have friends! Okay, fine, “friends” may be stretching it. Finally, not being glared down when I say hi to others… it feels great!

For those gracious individuals that were willing to look beyond physical appearances-God bless their souls-I still could not befriend them in my pre-Facebook days, for I have an atrocious memory. I would stare blankly at those who said hi to me on the streets, and wrack my brain trying to figure out where I knew them from, but my attempts were always in vain. Ensuing conversation was always extremely awkward. Today, when such incidents occur, I can simply run home and enlist the help of the almighty Facebook. I can browse through the thousands of mug shots on the site until I find the person who said hi to me.

Then, the next time I see the individual in question, instead of stammering something about hating the weather and having too much work (yawn), I can come out with gems such as, “Why Hector, it is just marvelous to see you! How are you doing these days? Say, how is that Physiology 517 Artificial Organs class you’re taking? Your birthday is coming up in three days, isn’t it? Will I be invited to your party? What’s that you say? We don’t really know each other? That’s no problem… we both love Radiohead and Pink Floyd, what else do you need?”

The Facebook has done wonders for my social life. Instead of being some random awkward girl, I have now reached a new level of the social ladder: I am now known as that creepy girl who prowls the Facebook and knows way too much information about you.

For the Facebook naysayer, I say get off your high horse and join the party. “The Facebook is just a popularity contest, it’s just about showing off the number of friends you have,” cry the too-cool-for-Facebook crowd. Oh, how wrong you are. The Facebook is not about showing off the number of friends you have; rather, it is about showing off just how pushy and creepy you can be. It is about proving your resourcefulness in tracking down every single person with whom you have ever crossed paths. The girl who shared a couch with you in the crowded Shatner lounge, or perhaps the guy you saw at BDP the other night who’s friends with the brother of that girl who lived with you in Rez… they’re all fair game. They all want to validate you, to boost your friend count, and to inflate your ego.

So, my fellow ugly and socially awkward brothers and sisters, our day has arrived. The Facebook is our chance to overcome discrimination and join the ranks of individuals with friends, so make good use of it. I wish you the best of luck in scamming some friends for yourself and, remember, creepy is the new cool.

Student Life

Sexy Stats: the science of love

Ladies, be coquettish and coy and play hard-to-get. Men, wait three days before calling. From Sex and the City to Seinfeld to Swingers, people today are bombarded by rules as to what to do, how to do it, and when to do it when it comes to dating, that game we all love to hate. But what actually works? Research shows that playing hard-to-get will make you a person who’s hard-to-like. Wait… could it be? Is it possible that people don’t like mixed signals? Shocking.

So take off your lucky underwear-we like it when you go commando, anyway-and lend science your ear. How can it improve your chances for scoring? Ignore those damn Rules and other such hogwash, the Trib, is here to set matters straight.

Braggin’ rights. Guys place more importance on youthfulness and physical attractiveness than their female counterparts when choosing a partner (those shallow bastards!), while girls are more focused on the vocational status, earning potential, kindness, and other emotional appeals of a man (okay, so our interests are piqued by the scent of money but, hey, at least we’re sensitive gold-diggers).

And we’ve caught on to what the opposite sex likes. Men display their “marketable” resources by bragging about their strength, athleticism, and sexual prowess, while women are more apt to display physical cues like wearing make-up and stylin’ threads.

At least you now know what to flaunt.

Pray for good genes. Gals like their arm candy to be, on average, six inches taller than they are, while men prefer women approximately four-and-a-half inches shorter than themselves. Men prefer women with an hourglass figure, as studies show that men are more attracted to those women with a waist-to-hip ratio between 0.6 and 0.7 (thin is so not in. Case in point: Kate Moss has a waist-to-hip ratio of 0.4.). It has also been found that women prefer men with a waist-to-hip ratio of about 0.9, implying a trim waistline.

Cross-cultural studies demonstrate consistency as to what female facial features are deemed attractive to men. It was found that females with larger eyes, a greater distance between eyes, slender noses, narrow faces, small chins, high and expressive eyebrows, large lower lips, high cheek bones, as well as a well-groomed, full head of hair were deemed more attractive. The things those crazy scientists say-as if men don’t like bald women. What will they come up with next?

Men prefer girls with a strong jaw, and both sexes preferred men with more feminine features. Symmetry also plays a huge part in physical attractiveness as both overall physical symmetry and facial symmetry were viewed as appealing to both men and women. Women prefer men with a larger upper body. So yeah, plastic surgery, anyone?

Aunt Flo = Cupid? A study where men were asked to smell T-shirts worn by women at varying stages of their menstrual cycle and rate their odours found that the odours of ovulating women consistently ranked much higher than those who were not. So perhaps it is not a curse, but a blessing instead.

A woman’s body may also undergo minor physical changes during ovulation. For example, soft tissues, such as those found in the ears and breasts, become more symmetrical, and waist-to-hip ratios tend to decline. A woman’s complexion is at its lightest and the skin also becomes aglow during ovulation. This is what is biologically deemed as attractive-think of what women strive to look like when they apply blush or lipstick, or seek breast implants: they are mimicking what they would look like during ovulation.

Who knew? Our monthly visit from our annoying little friend is like a monthly makeover from a helpful little matchmaker.

First impressions matter, so be a copycat. The initial meeting is crucial for relationship bliss-if you make a bad first impression, it takes 11 subsequent good impressions to offset the initial mishap. What’s more, evidence suggests that first impressions can be made subconsciously in as little as seven seconds. After this initial contact, individuals will confirm and establish a positive relationship generally within five minutes of being with another. Now that’s pressure. What’s a blubbering, klutzy, yet oh-so-horny individual to do?

The chameleon effect can work wonders. On your next date, mimic the postures, mannerisms and facial expressions of the object of your desire. Ultimately, mimicry has been found to promote the ease of interactions and increase your likeability. In fact, studies show that it can be predicted whether or not a couple will leave a bar together based on the synchronization of their movements.

Talk less, make bedroom eyes more. Studies show that only seven per cent of what a person takes away from a conversation comes from the words that are spoken, 38 per cent of meaning is derived from the way the words are articulated, while an astonishing 55 per cent of meaning is conveyed in facial expressions. Moreover, it has been found that nonverbal signaling is far more instrumental than other factors, such as physical attractiveness, in getting a man’s attention.

This means that ugly, boring people do still have a chance! Our advice? Don’t talk much, just wink repeatedly while pointing to your crotch region.

But what does it mean? Non-verbal communication can reveal lots about how a date is going. Guys who are interested in a partner touch them to convey care, conviction, sensitivity, and strength. Girls, on the other hand, are more likely to touch people to display property rights, those possessive demons. If a man leans back and touches his hair, it implies that he is not interested.

Women are more adept at decoding these cues as it has been consistently found that men are quite ignorant in reading body language. Does this come as a surprise to anyone?

Girls are also more likely to make the first move in a social environment through subtle movements such as standing near their potential prey. Conversations between men and women generally only begin after a female has acknowledged a man. Evidence suggests that women first display interest through eye contact followed by immediately looking away from their target. Subsequently, they are likely to lower their head slightly and cast another glance towards the individual. Coy. And hot. We approve.

Okay, so we guess these rules are not that much better than standard dating folklore. If you’re going to get plastic surgery just to get that 0.6 waist-to-hip ratio, perfect the first seven seconds of any meeting, and work on blinking at the exact same time as your date, you might as well wait three days before calling. But then again, what do we know.

SOURCES: Buss, D.M. The Evolution of Desires. (2003, Basic Books); Prager, K. The Psychology of Intimacy. (1995, Guildford Press).

 

Opinion

Ain’t nothin’ but a P Thang – “You have mail” and other horror stories

My mother always told me that “hate” was a very strong word. And I agree. Today, I no longer hate liver, I just intensely dislike it. I no longer hate my life; I only wish it were different. Completely different. Heck, I no longer hate Graham Jacobs, though I wish I could smash his conceited little face into a billion pieces and then send the smithereens to that new skank he’s dating. See, I am mature now.

However, there is one hate that I have never gotten over: my hatred of technology. Oh, technology. How do I loathe thee? Let me count the ways.

You reconnect me with the ghosts of my pathetic past. I ain’t no Scrooge, and I sure as hell don’t need to be haunted by the evils of yesteryear. The Facebook, however, doesn’t seem to understand this. Last week, I got an e-mail informing me that I had a friend awaiting confirmation. Who is it, but Krystal Jones from 10th grade. The nerve! This is the very girl who said I could only be her friend if I let her copy my English homework every week. How dare she try and use me today as just another name in her pursuit of plastic popularity? Oh, Facebook, why must you remind me of my traumatizing past?

You expose me for the asshole I really am. MSN Geeks will be the ruin of me. For those backstabbers not in the know, take note. This is a Web site that allows people to check who has deleted them off their MSN Messenger list. Friendships will be marred and hell will break loose. Case in point: my friend Gertrude (names have been changed to protect the identities of the snubbed and mortified) got deleted by best friend Hortense. Cue Jerry Springer-esque “oooh.” Not only that, Hortense just got hitched and Gertrude was her maid of honour. I know! Can you believe it? After hearing this tragic story of treachery, I decided to try the site out for myself. My list was nothing scandalous. Folks that had me deleted were friends that I haven’t seen since Saved by the Bell was cool. So, figuring I was safe, I decided to spread the word about this nifty tool. Bad move. Within a day, I had seven indignant people confront me about deletions. Oops.

At first I tried to deny them, stammering and stuttering like Daffy Duck. Then, I tried to justify myself. Yet, how do you explain to someone that you just had to delete them because your list was at maximum capacity and in order to add a new contact-that cute guy you met in class the other day-you just had to delete someone. And that someone just had to be them. Yeah, awkward. Welcome to Dickwad City… population: me.

You make me live in a constant state of fear and paranoia. Each time my cellphone rings, I cringe. Further, as I spend most of my waking hours in the basement of a school building, I don’t get reception for most of the day and have to deal with lots of angry messages when I finally leave my dungeon each night. While I fear my phone and, thus, avoid checking my voicemail as much as possible, my fear of e-mail has surpassed all rationality. I am so scared of e-mail that I check it 17 times a day. All five accounts-two personal, three official.

Does this mean I am efficient about replying to e-mails? Hardly. You see, I often forget about e-mails. Like the victims of traumatic experiences that block out the painful parts of the past from their minds, I sometimes subconsciously block the particularly distressing e-mails from my memory. I am paranoia personified.

Technology will be my downfall. Thoreau once proclaimed, “Lo! Men have become the tools of their tools.” While I agree with my predecessor, I myself am not so eloquent. So let this be P Thang’s statement to technology: bite me.

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