SEAS is HOT…and so is Zvi Galil’s mass e-mail…
Written by Bwog Staff
Dean of SEAS Zvi Galil, spam robot extraordinaire, strikes once more with an idiosyncratic personal e-mail before he leaves to take over the presidency of Tel Aviv University. Just another example of what we’ll be missing…
SEAS is hot. (Don’t hold it without gloves, you may get burnt.) We now have final numbers of Early Decision. Last year we had a record. This year’s new record is 51% higher. This is beyond anyone’s expectations. As for regular applications, we are “only” 40% higher than the number of last year at the same time. It is too early to predict the final number, as most applications arrive early January.
Every Thanksgiving I read the piece below, which is now 17 years old, and laugh again. Every few years I send it to the students. So if you have received it from me, it perhaps means that you have been here too long… Anyway, you can delete it as any other spam.
Read more of his e-mail after the jump.
Reflections on Thanks and the Disappearing Snood
TheBee — November 19, 1989
THANKSGIVING is the special time of year when we traditionally
bow our heads and, in a moment of quiet reflection, ask ourselves whether it
was medically necessary to eat those last four cubic yards of stuffing. It’s also when we pause to give thanks for our many blessings in the tradition of the Pilgrims, who were very thankful after that first winter in rock-strewn , a winter filled with cold and dirt and disease and starvation and death and hostile rock-strewing Indians.
Yes, they had much to be grateful for, those Pilgrims, and on that first Thanksgiving the ones who were not totally dead yet, gathered together
to compare parasites and give thanks. “At least we don’t have portable
cellular telephones,” they said.
This is more than we can say about the modern era. Just
recently I went to a movie, and right in the middle of a crucial scene I heard
this irritating electronic noise, and this woman sitting in front of me reached into her purse, pulled out a telephone and, right there in the movie theater, started having one of those vital conversations that people tend to have on portable phones (“Guess where I am! The movies!”)
Of course, I’m used to people talking in movie theaters. As far as I can tell, a large segment of the population goes to the movies solely for the purpose of having loud personal conversations while chomping on Baby Ruth bars the size of naval cannons.
But this was something new, a major electronic-rudeness
This woman should be very thankful that the Legislature, over the objections of the National Rifle Association, recently enacted a mandatory 15-minute “cooling-off” period on the purchase of machine guns in theater lobbies.
Of course, there are some technology items that we should be thankful for, a good example being Robo-Badger.
I am not making Robo-Badger up. I found out about him thanks to
alert reader J. Rhein, who sent me an Associated Press article by
Robert M. Andrews concerning a fascinating project at the ‘s
National Zoo designed to save the rare, endangered black-footed ferret.
The zoo has been breeding these ferrets and plans to let them go,
biologists are afraid that when the ferrets get out in the wild, they
know how to protect themselves.
So the biologists got hold of a Wyoming road-kill badger and
frozen and flown to , where a taxidermist gave it a fierce
and mounted it on the chassis of a radio-controlled toy truck.
The idea is that Robo-Badger will lunge around after the
causing them to develop a healthy fear of the many stuffed
predators they will surely encounter in the wild.
The article also states that the biologists have been teaching
ferrets to dive into their holes by pelting them with rubber bands.
I am still not making this up. So we’re talking about people
probably look perfectly normal; who have normal children and wear
clothes and drive normal cars to a normal-looking building where
inside and shoot rubber bands at ferrets.
I bet they also argue over who gets to drive Robo-Badger.
Well I don’t know about you, but when I read a heart-warming story
this, it makes me want to express my thanks by eating an enormous
giving dinner that continues to expand inside my stomach for the better
of a month.
So let’s transform ourselves into total goobers by putting on
our French-style chef’s hats, and then let’s head for the kitchen to make
Step No. 1 in the preparation of any kind of large deceased
eating is to learn about its various body parts.
There is no better source for this kind of information than an
edition of the Encyclopedia Britannica.
According to mine, turkeys belong to the same biological family
nically, “The Johnsons”) as chickens, and both male and female
have–this is a direct quotation–“a fleshy head appendage, the snood.”
Of course, the turkeys at the supermarket no longer have snoods,
forces us to ask ourselves what the turkey industry is doing with
Putting them in large trucks and shipping them across state lines,
This time of year, you could be driving on an interstate highway,
inside the truck right in front of you could be hundreds, possibly
thousands of pounds of snood (Six Die In Snood Spill).
And driving right behind you could be a ferret biologist.
It’s best not to think about it. It’s best to simply take your
and stuff it, then cook it in an absurdly hot oven for about two days
basting incessantly, and then, just before serving, mount it on the
of a radio-controlled toy truck.