A special editorial from area man Bob McCulloghy

So this past Sunday night, I was flipping through the most recent issue of Life Magazine, watching some good ole’ public broadcast television – and I heard about this SOPA thing. Barbara Calhoun was reporting that if SOPA happened, this thing called ‘The Internet’ would start getting regulated by the government. Now I’m not normally one to judge the government – they’ve never done anything to me. Every day, I wake up and have a bowl of cornmeal in front me so I assume they’re doing their job.

But Mrs. Calhoun seemed pretty riled up about this ‘Internet’ business, and that told me it must be something important – she’s never steered me wrong. So I went to one of those ‘café’ places where all the kids go, and decided to check out this ‘Internet’ for myself… AND HOT DAMN! THIS THING’S AMAZING! Did you know you can read the news on the computer? I finally found the Reagan Issue of Time that I’ve been looking for!!! AND THE PORN!!! I cannot tell you how many times I’ve gotten paper cuts with my nudie magazines. Those things sting like the dickens! But now, that will never be a problem!

We should really spread the word about this whole Internet deal! I can’t even imagine how many people are missing out on this great creation. The government needs to at least give this thing a little bit of trial period before they go and do anything with it, because I sure don’t see anything wrong with it – and if more adults got the chance to see the Internet for themselves, I think they’d agree.

Shortly after making this statement, Mr. McCulloghy was arrested by the FBI for streaming episodes of The Andy Griffith Show. Nobody has heard from him since.

Winter’s Bone: 2/4 star-shaped pasties

Winter’s Bone tells the story of a teenage girl trying to find her daddy to save her house. Yeah, thats right, who’s your daddy, girl. Great start. Then some shit happens and a cop comes. This is where you expect it to start getting heavy, right? Nope! Instead of ripping off his uniform and taking her “downtown,” he just warns her that her dad needs to show up to court. 

Ok, so when’s the winter bone going to happen? 

She walks around the neighbors house and finds some fat old neighbors. Is this it? Nope, they just tell her to get off their lawn.

So now they’ve set it up all nice and good waiting for the titular bone. What comes next? She throws on two more sweaters; that’s three more than you really want her to be wearing.

Ok, so now comes the dangerous part where there’s four guys and her. They beat her around a little bit (not my style, but you know they have to appeal to everyone’s tastes) and tie her up. Then her uncle comes… and that’s where I drew the line. Bondage? OK. Incest? No way. The only type of incest I can handle is Incest-ption. That shit blew my mind, and some other organs as well.

Towards the end of this hour-and-a-half-long movie she finally starts taking some clothes off to fish some crap out of a lake. She even rolls her sleeves up, hot damn! She grabs a human hand or something… and the movie ends.

In my opinion, the filmmakers definitely focused too much on the “winter” and not enough on the “bone.” Still, should it win Best Picture? Does it have Mila Kunis and Natalie Portman making out? The answer is no.

EVANSTON—In what is being called the worst wave of viral attacks in recent years, Northwestern’s Laptop ER service was plunged into frantic technical support overtime as dozens of—mostly male—students brought in their computers after a crippling wave of pornographic entertainment. Although often considered harmless, the sex came with a price: viruses, worms, and predatory infections, often causing their victims to seize up—or stop functioning altogether.

“We’ve seen this kind of thing before, but never this bad,” said ER Specialist Derek Brown. “Somebody out there is making access to these whores even cheaper and easier. It’s sick. In the hands of our students, some of these poor laptops never had a chance.”

In keeping with the custom of triage developed on the battlefields of World War I—by which wounded are grouped into three categories in order to prioritize help to those who might benefit most—workers valiantly made grim decisions on the café tables at Norris Center. Though a fortunate third of the laptops were given the full attention of tech experts, another third languished in waiting, as they carried only mild computer viruses. A final third were unfortunately left to die, or given the option of wiping their hard drives clean.

Crying and cradling his still-young but cold Toshiba, Matt Deshevny called out, “Why? Why are you gone? All those hotties! All those videos! Twenty hours of DP!”

“I am afraid there was just too much high-resolution tail ready for download out there,” Brown intoned. “We did what we could.”