Ad

Author Archive

Nov

2

Written by

img November 02, 20181:33 pmimg 0 Comments

On his most perilous assignment yet, Bwog’s disarmingly handsome Staff Writer Henry Golub spent ten minutes in John Jay. He relates what he smelt, saw, and dealt.

(Disclaimer: This is all fake, and I like John Jay. I also don’t shove people.) 

Even John Jay hasn’t spent ten minutes in John Jay.

I’m skeptical of anyone who tells me to spend more than eight minutes on anything. So, you can imagine my surprise when I told myself to spend ten minutes in John Jay.

Now, you might be asking yourself why anyone would waste two minutes more than eight at a place that serves cottage cheese. You’d have a point.

But remember, dear reader: I am no journalist who fritters away his seconds. I am one who considers every tick of the clock, every rustle of the branch, and every crackle of the Rice Krispy an opportunity to transcend the competition—to go where other reporters will not and to experience the dangers they won’t. Rest assured that if I didn’t think I could write a story about John Jay worth your while, then by God, I wouldn’t have written it.

I went to John Jay the other day not because it was easy, but because it was hard.

“We go to the Moon not to avoid Ferris lines, but because they have a fro-yo machine.”

Minute One:

I arrived at John Jay young, scrappy, and very hungry. I shoved aside some loiterers talking about Ferris and made my way to the food desk. I waited in line, scowling at everyone in sight and making hissing noises at Spec posters. I had a chip on my shoulder and iron-resolve in my heart.

Minute Two:

I got to the front of the line.

“Hi,” I said to the lady working the food computer, “How’re ya doing?”

She scanned my ID. “Good.”

For reference.

“Thanks,” I said, walking away. 54 seconds had passed…

Six, five, four, three, two…

Minute Three:

I shoved aside more people and walked to where the conveyor belt enters the plate cave. I noticed my friends.

“Hey, Dashing Young Bwogger Henry,” they said, “Do you want to eat with us?”
“Sure.”
They couldn’t have known how little time I had left. They stared wistfully at me as I went to get some food.

Minute Four:

John Jay, but only at 6:00 am.

My friends receding into the distance, I felt the gaze of the world and the weight of a thousand hard-covered Odysseys upon me. I walked into the food room and stopped at the glorious sight—juice machines everywhere, two bulletproof soda dispensers, and thirty more people to purposefully bump into. I don’t like juice or soda, but heck if I wasn’t about to not say “excuse me” to every person in sight. Whenever someone does this to you in John Jay or Ferris, they are probably Creative Writing majors who write for blogs.

I got on line for vegan food as my timer hit five minutes.

I’m not a Creative Writing major, by the way.

Minute Five:

The long line reminded me that I’m not vegan. I moved onto the line for chicken and settled in for the 30 second wait. I pondered life in the meantime:

Better than both un-enhanced water and re-enhanced water.

Why do I have mild back pain at eighteen? Why do we put anything besides cheese into ravioli? Why don’t iPhones autocorrect “borthday” to “birthday” if they change “Ostruck” to “Ostrich?” Why am I complaining?

I got my food and went to get utensils.

Minute Six:

I found a fork, but could not find a knife, so I decided to get another fork.

Minute Seven:

Time to eat. I pulled a chair up to my friends’ table and took my first bite. The chicken needed salt, so I asked my friend (names have been deleted to protect identities) to please pass the salt, but he said that we had none. I suddenly felt the clock ticking; a bead of sweat rolled down my forehead, and I took off my winter jacket.

Dehydration keeps me in the zone.

“Oof,” I said, “I’ll ask another table for a shaker.”

I borrowed one and returned it. I looked at my timer: four minutes left.

Minute Eight:

Three minutes left.

Someone tried starting a conversation, but I could hardly talk while scarfing down food.

Minute Nine:

As I popped a final Brussel sprout into my mouth, I heard a shout from the other end of the room.

“Henry!” the voice called, “The time!”

I looked at my watch and nodded at the loyal fan. I grabbed my coat and dishes and bolted for the conveyor belt. People around the room cheered me on.

Minute Ten:

The magic carpet took my dishes to the tunnels beneath John Jay. I started leaving when, all of a sudden, someone threw their fork into the utensil bucket and dirty water splashed all over me. I ran outside. My timer hit ten minutes.

I had done it.

John Jay via Wikimedia Commons

RFK’s Older Brother via Wikimedia Commons

Stop, Drop, and Watch via Pixabay

Juice Lane via Columbia Dining

Enhanced™ Water™ via Henry Golub™

Salt Shakér via Wikimedia Commons

Oct

28

Written by

img October 28, 20186:46 pmimg 0 Comments

On Saturday, Staff Writer Henry Golub made his way up two staircases, a ramp, and another staircase to see Third Wheel Improv perform in Lerner. They were even funnier than last time.

Not this.

In my last review, I recommended that you all see Third Wheel perform for yourselves. I’m glad I did, because last night exceeded my expectations.

The troupe returned in full swing. New skits kept the show as lively as last time, and once again, the troupe leaders nipped stale jokes in the bud. Everyone’s stage presence, voice impressions, and jokes had the audience laughing straight through the hour.

The troupe guided the humor using three open-ended skits centered on theme suggestions from the audience. My favorites were a slam poetry round based on “industrialism” and a long-form bit about “turbulence” that morphed into a satire about the unsavory actors, executives, “juris doctors,” and visitors roaming around Disney World.

I’ve learned that he’s not actually smiling under that thing.

Each member of the troupe performed well and contributed to the show. Some standouts include first-year Harris Solomon, whose debut last night exhibited a noteworthy versatility in voice impressions (his Lindsay Graham impression was particularly funny); co-leader Jacob Kaplan, whose acting and wit stood out among the talented group; and a junior/senior in a Gloria Steinem halloween costume (whose name I didn’t catch), who kept a joke about being a copyright lawyer funny for longer than most good jokes last.

As someone who has seen both funny and terrible improv, I can assure you that Third Wheel is worth seeing. Fortunately, you can watch them perform alongside Columbia’s other improv troupes and troupes from other schools in two weeks at the third annual Spare Tires Improv Festival. You can also keep up with the group’s events at its Facebook page.

Two Wheels via Pixabay

Mr. M. Mouse via Max Pixel

Oct

17

Written by

img October 17, 20184:30 pmimg 1 Comments

Staff-Writer-turned-Spelunker Henry Golub totally explored Columbia’s tunnel system and lived to tell the tale. He also likes inflating his word count and eating burritos.

Whoa. Tunnels.

Beneath Columbia’s campus—below Spec’s lair—lies an extensive tunnel system where the school used to run maze experiments on NYU students. Few people have since entered the labyrinth, but those who have tell of extraordinary sights: a secret entrance to JJ’s, Alexander Hamilton’s arm and leg (which he gave up for Hamilton tickets), and even witches.

Now, I don’t believe in Alexander Hamilton, but I could not resist seeing for myself the other wonders lying beneath Morningside. I had to find the tunnels.

Into the tunnels after the jump

Oct

15

Written by

img October 15, 20183:10 pmimg 0 Comments

Order among chaos.

Staff Writer Henry
Golub wrote about Lerner
using six haikus

One:

Time, time, who needs it?
When I schlep up your long ramps
My beating heart aches

Two:

Ferris is crowded
Lines last for thirty minutes
A bagel for me

Three:

I like nothing more
Than placing my pencil down
And seeing it roll

The ramps are actually lines of poetry.

Four:

If I had to choose
Between stairs and many ramps
I’d choose the wrong path

Five:

So many doors closed
A gap opens on the left
A crowd blocks the way

Six:

O elevators! <3
You are for decoration
And you never work

Lerner One via Wikimedia Commons

Lerner Two via Wikimedia Commons

Oct

6

Written by

img October 06, 20185:38 pmimg 0 Comments

A tricycle with an actual third wheel, for reference.

Staff Writer Henry Golub braved fierce Friday winds to watch Third Wheel Improv perform in John Jay. He brought cough drops, tissues, and hot water to keep his tuberculosis-like cold under wraps.

The nine members of the troupe (I think that they were missing one) stood in a line facing the audience and took turns making off-the-cuff jokes. They used open-ended skits to steer the humor in a general direction and took cues from the audience. When a skit felt repetitive, a lead member rushed forward and announced a new one. The formula worked.

Ice dancing is like figure skating, but less impressive.

My favorite skit was a game called “Sex with Me is Like.” In that skit, the crowd yelled out words ending in -ing and the troupe used those words to complete the phrase “sex with me is like.” A highlight: “Sex with me is like ice dancing; I make you wear a leotard.”

In another skit, the group interviewed a member of the audience and used his responses as material for improvised scenes. For instance, the interviewee mentioned that he has been to EC a few times. The troupe later turned that into a whole act about a run-in with Public Safety.
More sexual Olympics after the jump

Sep

25

Written by

img September 25, 20185:02 pmimg 1 Comments

Getting typical with the global warming pictures.

Staff Writer Henry Golub ventured over to Columbia Law School on Monday night to hear Climate Week NYC’s discussion, “Fighting Back Against Attacks On Climate Science.” He heard multiple experts discuss climate change denial and propose solutions.

Climate Week NYC 2018 kicked-off on Monday with exhibits, concerts, movie screenings, and panel discussions held throughout the city. The international summit aims to encourage policy change by spreading climate change awareness and fostering discourse among government officials, business leaders, and the public. New York City has hosted the event annually for the past 10 years.

I attended a Climate Week panel discussion at Columbia Law School, where prominent speakers addressed the issue of climate change denial. Why do many Americans so vehemently oppose well-supported climate science? What recourse do we have?

Is it all just a Chinese hoax?

© 2006-2015 Blue and White Publishing Inc.