By Nahil Akbar
Man, I’d never thought I could do it, but I was able to escape the state penitentiary in Trenton. I couldn’t believe just how easy it was. Our prison guard was out for the day so we had our substitute cop in. What was even better is that it was donut day at the cafeteria. I stuffed a whole box in my pants and when it was time for the daily routine checks, it was my time to shine. When the cop came to my cell, he fainted from the aroma of my ball sweat covered donuts. Then, I reached for his keys, took his clothes, and walked my way to freedom. Too easy. Even skipping physical education class back during my school days was more of a challenge than this. Hell, this was even easier than escaping my former arranged marriage. I kept telling my parents I didn’t want to marry and I’d rather just live my life as a crappy fiction writer. They weren’t having it. They kept saying words like dishonor, family, doctor, and disappointment. I honestly didn’t care. Nor did I care about the girl they were trying to arrange me with. As I resisted every attempt from my parents trying to get me married, I unintentionally created Family Politics War episode 2434. The episode finally ended when I decided to rob my family’s own convenience store, so I could be sent to prison. Only then did I finally escape the nightmare. While I may have lost 6 months of my life in the slammer, I in return saved myself many years of misery from my parents asking when my children would become doctors and eternity of being married to a woman I didn’t love.
By Bill O’Leary
Yeah. That’s right, you read that right, white people need to die. I don’t mean every single one of them. But I do believe we—yeah that’s right, I’m a whitey too—need to shed some blood. Every time I see the headline, “Man shot by police,” I hope that the victim is a white male. It’s only fair. We deserve it. Each time, I open up my laptop and click on the news links to see if I’m going to see the face of a white bastard, deserving of a bullet, and instead it’s always some poor, black kid, who was wearing a hoodie, or walking down the street with skittles. It’s just so unjust that only minorities are shot by police and I believe that maybe the best way to get over the racial divide in this country is to allow for the score to be evened. I firmly believe whitey has to spill some blood to make that happen, only then will our country be united. I offer to be first.
BY Knifty Knitter
As a Rutgers student, I am a pretty frequent user of the Rutgers bus system. I have classes on every campus besides the one I live on, so I spend a good hour or two commuting on the buses each day and I have to say, the one thing that makes it bearable is the availability of free and constant music. No matter the H or the EE, I can be sure to free-ride a tune from a jock’s Beats or a business student’s EarPods. I appreciate the fact that at any point in the day, I can get on a bus and find solitude to the accompaniment of a poppin’ Jersey club remix or the heartfelt words of whichever country star my seatmate is listening to.
I almost feel guilty, as if I am taking advantage of the music industry as a whole. I, a lowly history major, can enjoy the pleasures of such fine melodies and musical choices of my fellow bus companions and don’t have to purchase the music-or even put on headphones to enjoy it. I am truly the party at fault every time, but what can I do? I don’t have the power to turn off my ears, to block my auditory neurons from receiving the signals from the sweet sounds. It is what the universe has bestowed upon me and I must live with the consequences.