EVANSTON—Northwestern University prides itself on its nationally acclaimed theater program. Widely recognized by students across the country, Northwestern theater prepares young artists to cope with rejection, the typical outcome of real-life performance auditions. One hopeful freshman, Jeff Sachs, is actually convinced that I was aware of and had time to attend The Taming of the Shrew, a student-organized show he worked on.

Sachs, a dazed theater major, clearly faltered in logic with that thought, failing to recognize that my attendance at his show would have been statistically impossible. This is a common mistake, it would appear.

First, consider the amount of time a college student works. Multiply that value by eight to determine the time a Northwestern student spends working. By this logic, the average NU student works 169 hours per week, or one hour more hour than the total amount of hours in one week. Next, multiply the number of performances in one quarter by two hours, the average length of a production. Given the amount of performances nightly, this time value overflows most standard calculators.

Some have sacrificed their grades in an attempt to attend all the performances. In addition, it has caused cast members from different shows to engage in intense competition. They lure audience members by whatever means necessary, even resorting to violent threats. One anonymous audience member voiced his concern: “I literally saw ten shows in one night because I have a lot of friends who are theater majors. I thought I was being a good guy, supporting the performers and everything, but apparently I wasn’t. When I woke up the next morning, someone had spray painted ‘the cast of Eclipsed knows you weren’t there’ and ‘the theatre community will make you pay, jackass’ on my door. I really am scared for my life now.”

Jeff Sachs, you silly young artist, are you serious? If there were a million hours in a week, chances are good that I still would have been unable to attend The Taming of the Shrew. Sachs is simply “dream[ing] the impossible dream” like Don Quixote did in Man of La Mancha—for the few of you that had the chance to see the NU show.

EVANSTON—Chuck Davis, winner of Chute Middle School’s spelling bee and science fair, was honored yesterday for his hard work in school and dedication to the Evanston community. Chuck (age 11), along with four other local students, received the prestigious Young Achiever Award. He was surprised with the news during gym class, “I’ve really worked hard for this,” said Davis. “Those extra pre-algebra problems have really paid off.”

Chuck’s résumé is impressive. His 4.0 GPA, involvement with several clubs and sports, three hundred hours of community service, and founding of a paper airplane company are amongst his many achievements or, as he calls it, “the only way of life.” Davis added, “I also have twenty one merit badges. I’m a cub scout too.”

The Northwestern Flipside approached Davis after a press conference, asking if he would be applying to Northwestern in the fall of 2014. His response was somewhat unexpected, citing a sibling’s lack of work ethic. “Northwestern? Are you kidding? I have a brother who goes there. He never does any work. That’s not the life for me.” Jason Davis (20) is Chuck’s older brother, a theatre major. Unlike Chuck, Jason does not have a rigorous academic schedule. Jason is enrolled in Math 101: Fun with Numbers, Theatre 210: Breathing Good, and two other “classes.” He declined comment.

Jason’s roommate, however, was overjoyed to talk to The NU Flipside. “Yeah, he basically dicks around all day. He usually wakes up at about 12:30, then sings along to whatever’s on the radio. He annoys the hell out of me.” When asked what Jason does with all his free time, his roommate laughed before saying, “Every night he asks me what bar he should go to. Every night I ask myself, ‘Should I do Chemistry first or Calculus?’ Jason never asks these more serious questions.” It’s easy to see the source of Chuck Davis’s success; his older brother is a good role model by providing the perfect example of what not to do.