HAMILTON, NY — For some, astronomy is but an elective, and for others, the field is nothing but pretty pictures of simulated galaxies; but for a select group enrolled in ASTR101, astronomy is a wake-up call – one that reminds those few soft shitty bodies that we all die eventually, and our lives are mere blinks in the eyes of the universe at large.

“My existence stopped mattering when I saw the moons of Jupiter for the first time,” explains freshman Twizzlerdick McBlick, who was in the middle of his Nietzcshe when the Rag asked for his opinion. “The sheer scope of our very own solar system baffled me, so then imagined the entirety of the universe, and then I remembered us – remembered people – and realized that we are literally fleshy meatsack poop-factories floating on a ball of dead dinosaurs and dirt.”

To say the least, these kids needed to lighten up, but according to multiple sources, it appears to be an impossibility to improve the attitudes of the newly-dubbed “Existentialism Club.” If anything, these individuals act as black holes in any party-scene, sucking all enjoyment out of other partygoers who bear witness to their mumblings about the inevitable threat of death that constantly looms over every living creature. Frat-star Football Football had the following to say:

“They show up, they quote Kierkegaard, and they leave. It’s sort of like a plague of emo locusts that steal all your alcohol and make you sad.” Football then proceeded to ball up into the fetal position and rock back and forth as a single tear rolled down his oddly-oily face. He would join Existentialism Club later that day, never appearing again to his once-brothers. Some say the legendary figure actually disappeared into the Adirondacks on a soul-searching journey, but we here at the Rag will never know the true fate of Football.

In addition to the obvious emotional toll, the creation of the Existentialism Club has resulted in some serious feuding between our boys at Foggy Bottom and the Philosophy Department. Some view the struggle as Colgate’s own version of the classic “Good Versus Evil” feud, and thus consider the end-times for our beautiful campus to be near as tensions continue to build. Plenty of Challenges of Modernity classes were also forced to shut down, as members of the club would exclusively study the nihilistic authors of the curriculum and refuse to believe in any other school of thought when considering the value of human existence.

We here at the Rag would like to conclude with a warning to our readers of the observed symptoms of early onset existentialist bouts: nihilism, loss of interest in anything other than old German men, loss of appetite and thirst, sudden brooding tendencies, inability to express emotion, and sudden growth of ridiculous facial hair akin to that of said German men – regardless of gender. If you or a loved one begin to display any of the following signs, the Student Health Center recommends to “calm the fuck down,” “put some clothes on, you disgusting lump,” and “get the fuck out of here; you’re scaring people.”

HAMILTON, NY — With finals in full swing, it becomes extremely easy for the student body to miss out on their favorite shows and the like when they’re fucking around busy in Case with all their assignments so unfairly forced upon them by their professors. As such, even the most diehard of fans fall behind on their favorite franchises; with the backlash created by the most recent Avengers: Infinity War, many Marvel fanatics have turned to a life of solidarity, refusing to leave their rooms for any reason other than to go to class and perhaps scrounge the trash-cans for leftover scraps in the dead of night.

In true A Quiet Place fashion, any sort of sound sets the superhero fans off, driving them into a frenzy and allowing them to triangulate your location with their supersonic hearing in order to inform you that they “haven’t fucking seen the fuck- ing movie so don’t fucking spoil it you fucking fucker” before promptly kicking you in the ribs. Though, a new club was founded in the wake of this escalated tension: a crew of students with megaphones regularly make their rounds on campus roofs and shout fake spoilers into the air, drawing in a massive crowd of rabid fans. One such member, Lays Potatochip, approached the Rag’s soundproofed bunker in Drake’s basement for a comment:

“It’s just something to do, honestly. I’ve managed to convince so many people that the Soul Stone is actually Hulk’s left nut, and they totally buy it. You can fucking say anything, and not only will they believe you, but they’ll also give up on ever seeing the movie, because they think you just ruined the entire thing. Hell, I made a kid in Case have a mental breakdown because I said in passing that I couldn’t believe they brought in Kim Jong Un for his Hollywood debut.”

To say the least, the film has caused quite the uproar on our little hill, with violent assaults on the rise as we begin to leave for summer—although, those numbers are totally inflated by SPW. Remember: until you get out of the Syracuse airport, stay quiet, and stay safe.

HAMILTON, NY — Dancefest, one of the few events on campus that people actually sincerely enjoy without feeling the need to pregame – although it definitely helps – has recently come under fire after shots were sent at the Economics Majors in the audience with an innocent joke that insinuated a majority of those soon-to-be charcoal-suited leeches have no personality whatsoever. Many felt the need to approach the Rag in order to save face, such as one Rich McRichrichrich, who explained his situation.

“I’m completely aware of my lack of personality and development in terms of problem-solving and conversation skills that aren’t based around dick-jokes and arbitrary party rules – but that doesn’t mean I’m okay with you telling me how socially inept I am without my daddy,” said Rich, dabbing his eyes with his Gucci scarf. “I didn’t ask for my name to be a reference to how my family could easily fund an entire incoming class with a flick of their diamond-encrusted Rolex wrists. Being wealthy is hard, okay?”

Caught in the crossfire of this feud is none other than the Mathematical Economics and the Environmental Economics Majors, who don’t really feel attacked (because they can handle jokes) but instead feel insulted for being clumped in with the chart-drawing bumblefucks that forget which way a supply-demand curve is supposed to go. In addition, Econ Majors who actually have an interest in the field instead of getting a soul-sucking job at JPMorgan Chase & Co. find the whole issue to be “kinda ridiculous, because they’re sorta right”. One Econ Major who prefers to be unnamed had the following to say:

“I mean, it’s true. You look around your class and you see people who you know are only here because the school is getting full tuition from them, and besides binge-drinking and being unable to communicate to anyone who has more than three brain-cells slapping together, they have no apparent characteristics. They like beer, they like money, and they unironically like dumbshit lowest-common-denominator entertainment like “The Bachelorette” because they see themselves identifying with these literal cardboard-cutout men who maybe have one interesting fact going for them.”

One proposed fix to avoid the clumping of economic concentrations who can take a joke and the rest of the vocal minority would involve splitting the Economics program into two distinct majors, properly named “Easy-Mode Economics” and “Actual Economics.” This way, an average Colgate student could detect if they wanted to talk to a person for more than four seconds by asking them their major, as if we couldn’t do that already. (Stop asking me about my childhood, Psych Majors; I’m perfectly fine.) Classes for each major would require declaration prior to registration so as to avoid any second-guessing, and topics covered in each field would involve courses like “How to Count to Fifty” for EZEC and “Evaluating the Phenomenon of Price Formation” for ACEC.

However, regardless of which concentration students choose, we all know that Rich and his WASP gang will make enough money to cover their multi-million dollar properties with Franklins as far as the eye can see, so we might as well allow ourselves the ability to laugh at them while we can.