HAMILTON, NY — On August 30th, the first meeting of the Physics 171 class, Matter and Other Things We Just Don’t Understand, was stopped short by a sudden break in the fabric of reality. Experts have traced its cause to a contradiction in the class’s syllabus, which contained two separate dates for the third exam. The difference of three days between them was paradoxical enough to break the binding energy of the universe, causing space and time to interweave in chaotic, fully unpredictable ways, eliminating the past, present, and future in one awesome stroke. 

 Rather than destroy all existing life, this blunder has eliminated the very concept of ​existence, essentially making it as though any life and creation had never transpired. In a single typo, the building of the Hoover Dam, the Battle of Waterloo, the Middle Ages, the reign of the pharaohs, and the dawn of man had been erased in an intergalactic event of profound nothingness.  

“Shit was wild,” says one Colgate student, who was relaxing in the Lathrop lounge when the dimensionally transcendental anomaly ended reality, “This is why I’m majoring in humanities, I can’t deal with all of that, ‘The fabric of space-time is unweaving’ bullshit, you know?” 

Earth’s people were not the only sentient beings who witnessed the end of the miracle that is self aware matter. Neighboring galaxy, Andromeda, agreed to do an interview. In response to this cosmic clusterfuck, their representative had this to say, “↱↲⇚⍇↭ ͒͑ , ⬅⬌⬍,〘〙〓〓】【⃠.” 

Colgate, the epicenter of this intergalactic event, remains the last bubble of reality, floating in the multiplex of the n-dimensional space that once contained infinite parallel universes, a spatial temporal result of a history that has now never happened. The administration urges students to remain within campus so as not to remove the last traces of the set of physical laws and phenomena that now describe no existing universe. 

At press time, a group of freshmen girls was seen heading for the Jug, saying, “There probably isn’t a line now.”

HAMILTON, NY — On Friday, a joint task force made up of officers from the Hamilton Police, New York State Police, and the Federal Bureau of Investigation carried out a raid on what they believed to be one of the largest theft rings on the eastern seaboard.

Operating out of popular local watering hole The Old Stone Jug, federal investigators allege that the ring has been responsible for the theft millions of dollars of personal property, primarily jackets, over the past decade and a half. Led by the shadowy figure known only as John Jug, the ring communicated over Snapchat. Phrases like “Come black-out at The Jug,” were signals to members that there were particularly high value items, like a Canada Goose or Patagonia jacket, that had been left on the coat rack. Once stolen, the items were stored in a secret apartment above the establishment, and potential buyers were made aware of available merchandise by phrases like “Jug Dogs available tonight.” One member of the ring interviewed by the Rag said that this made the perfect code, since even the drunkest freshman would never try to buy a hotdog from the Jug. Profits would then be laundered by a mysterious partner in Florida who Jug had previously identified as his daughter, but who members of the Colgate community were relieved to hear was not actually related to him.

Sophomore Harold Fitzpatrick told the Rag “Honestly I’m just glad to know that that chick from Snapchat is not actually his daughter; that shit was really creepy.” Arrests have been made, but federal investigators have announced that they have not finished their investigation, and they are pursuing alleged links between the ring and several Chinese Triads and a Belarusian human trafficking organization.

Hamilton, NY — At approximately 1:17 a.m., September 6, three ahead-of-the-curve freshmen jumped into Taylor Lake.  

The pioneering first-years, Brad Chadswick, Joseph Reyes, and Walton Smithers III, are leading the rest of their class as freshmen typically wait until finals week before jumping into the lake.  Having contracted a smorgasbord of diseases, they have begun to share them with their fellow classmates as a way to unify the class of 2022.  

“You know man?  We were walking back from Freshman Night and we were passing Taylor Lake.  It was there and I thought ‘Fucking send it, man.’ So, like, I yell, ‘Yo, we jumping?’  And like, we jumped in and I thought, ‘It’s fucking cold, man.’ Then Reyes said, ‘If you don’t go under, then you [are] a pussy.’  So, like, I go under cause I ain’t no pussy. And while I was underwater I thought, ‘Bruhhhhh. It’s hella murky down here.’ You feel me?”  Chadswick said from the student health clinic as he seeks treatment for what doctors have dubbed “super gonorrhea” mixed with “extreme herpes” as well as traces of mad cow disease.

The tradition of diving into Taylor Lake and spreading the various STD’s, STI’s and diseases previously only found in animals dates back to 1819, when 13 men with 13 dollars in their pocket and 13 prayers yelled “Send it!” and promptly dove in.  The Taylor Lake ecosystem is renowned in the medical world due to the abundant amount of diseases residing there.

“The ecosystem of Taylor Lake is truly one of the more astounding ones in the country.  It is a breeding ground for every bacteria imaginable. The patients that have come to me after jumping in the lake have suffered from everything: dysentery, cholera, typhoid, clamidia etc.  And I have only been here three-and-a-half months!” Dr. Jennifer Walters said.   

Chadswick, Reyes, and Smithers are expected to make semi-full recoveries.  However, due to the highly contagious nature of their diseases, doctors have advised that they abstain from sex, public pools, all contact sports, as well as all physical contact with another human being or animal for the next 50 years.  Neither Reyes nor Smithers could be reached for comment.

HAMILTON, NY — As the first month of college for the freshmen of Colgate University draws to a close, a common anxiety befalls the dorms: the five grams of marijuana they had left in their mason jar, or stolen tupperware container is swiftly depleting. As students continue to use the drug to ease their social anxieties, they must find a new source for their sticky green. 

“What will I do to ease the tension of a Tinder hookup?,” says member of the Freshman class, Mary Kusch, “I only match with Seniors, and they provoke anxiety.” Ms. Kusch later explains that her “constant” trips to The Jug, a local establishment, are “tiring,” and she finds that “lighting up in the showers of Gate House” helps her to “calm down after a long week of going out.” Ms. Kusch admits that she uses the drug, marijuana, as somewhat of a “crutch” to ease her social interactions, as she is having trouble transitioning into the party culture at the school. Soon, the mason jar full of dryer sheets, her pipe, and a lighter, will be absent of the “whacky tobacky”.  Mary has become so dependent on, and she is looking for what she calls a “plug.” 

Mary is not alone in her search.  In fact, sources say about 78% of the class of 2022 has no idea where to purchase marijuana in the small town of Hamilton. “It’s not New York,” says Kyle, Ms. Kusch’s classmate, “[a student] can’t just take a 40-minute train ride downtown to find a dealer.” Many students we spoke with are resorting to urban connections such as these and the extensive package delivery service at Colgate to keep them in the green. Others, however, speak to the fact that “the line in the [O’Connor Campus Center] is too long for [them] to wait for packages.” They would much rather purchase their drugs the old-fashioned way: late night, with the hoods of their Ivy (or Baby Ivy) League sweatshirts up, in the far corner of a parking lot, sneakers tied tight in case they need to run from the authorities. 

The search for a new plug is much like searching for a new doctor. Patient-Doctor confidentiality is a given, as well as a mutual trust between the two. A good doctor would never give their patient the improper medicine, but this relationship takes time to build, and it’s anxiety-provoking for many students to attempt this task. Some have resorted to self-medicating with their current stores of reefer, which further diminishes their resources, exacerbating their need for a new plug. The vicious cycle continues until the student is forced to grovel at every pregame, every Jug night, even in their extracurriculars, for a trace–an inkling of a plug. 

“Give it two more weeks,” contributes second-year Jane Keefner, “they’ll figure it out.” The optimism displayed by older students is only slightly reassuring to the freshmen, as they currently stare into the abyss: the thought of going a few days without getting high is terrifying–enough to warrant a few joints to “take their mind off it.”

HAMILTON, NY — We once again have reached that special time of year where desperate freshmen will do anything and everything to find someone willing to buy them alcohol. This year, the classics have been attempted. Some freshmen have smuggled a handle into their room in their suitcase while others have gotten in on an order and are hoping it doesn’t get seized by customs. The less fortunate have resorted to waiting until parents’ weekend where they will beg their parents to buy them a case of Keystone. Some freshmen, however, have gone a less traditional and bolder route that involves an open window and an unsuspecting passerby.

“Basically, it involves screaming, ‘Hey, are you guys 21?’ out a window to anyone that looks remotely older. Most of the time we try to yell it at people with cars parked outside our building. We call it the Open Window Technique,” explains Brad Jones, a first year living on the second floor of Drake. Brad and his roommate have used the Open Window Technique at least five times and are confident that it will work. “So far no one has gone for it but we’re sure that it’ll work someday.”

Undeterred by the common responses of “no” and “what the fuck?”, freshmen continue to use the Open Window Technique. Some, however, find it much harder with their housing arrangements. “Living in Andrews makes it kind of hard because no one can drive on the residential quad,” says Anna Waters, a third floor resident of Andrews who has not yet mastered the technique. “There are no cars to yell at. At least I’m not at the back of the building, though. No one goes out there.”

Residents of Gate House, however, find the technique completely impractical for their building. “Our windows don’t open so we can’t even try it. A know a couple of people have tried yelling it out of doors but it really doesn’t have the same effect,” says a first year who wishes to remain anonymous.

Only time will tell if the Open Window Technique becomes a standard. For now, upperclassmen can only applaud the freshmen’s initiative.