Volume 62, Issue 65, 22 January 1923: Seven Are Initiated Into English Club Membership
Stanford is full of neeeeerds.
Like straight up, one night I was chilling with some friends, and they start having this competition where they try to recognizes “Lord of the Rings” scenes just by the soundtrack playing in the background. Like, what? “Lord of the Rings” is pretty nerdy in itself, but these guys made it sound like they actually read the books, which is even weirder. I’m just like, come on guys, go start a weirdo club for weird people and get out of my computer cluster, where REAL, COOL PEOPLE WORK happens!
I kid, of course, and am quite the nerd myself, but I’m not sure I’m on the level of the English Club of 1923.
And I mean, as a maybe-but-probably-not-haha English major myself, an English Club sounds pretty appealing. Like, I don’t know, a book club or something? Share some short stories we’ve written? Plan our world domination with our earth-shattering literary theories and interpretations? But when you say I have to be “initiated” to get in this club… that’s when I get a bit skeptical.
Seven students were initiated into the English club by giving “imitations of different modern movie actors in Shakespearean roles.” What? What does that even mean?
“Scherl Levy took the part of Harold Lloyd as Macbeth. Ruth Mcbride was Mary Pickford as Lady Macbeth, with Mary Eyre as her gentlewoman.”
Gosh Stanford, you put your foot down on Greek hazing, yet you allow something like this to go on? This is the real problem! I need to petition to get the English Club to lose their housing!
Volume 196, Issue 59, 22 January 1990: Our names are mud
Oh, the California drought.
Remember when we had that huge rain storm about a month ago? Everyone was freaking out and there were all these flash flood warnings and some people thought we wouldn’t have class because it’d be too dangerous to bike and it was pretty much the apocalypse. And then it happened. I was just like, “Guys… it’s just raining. Chill out.”
But thanks to that rain, Lake Lagunita had fun little puddles in it for a while there. It was quite nice. I looked at some pictures from when the lake was actually full, and it bummed me out a bit. It was nice, and it’d be so much fun! But you know, I’m an optimist. I work with what I got. And I was like, “You know, even though we don’t have a nice lake, we could instead have a charity mud volleyball tournament.”
Eh? Pretty genius, eh? Kappa Alpha in 1990 agreed with me, at least! More than 600 people participated in tournament that raised over $9,000 (hardy har har)! For the third year in a row, a team called Team Yucky won the competition. Good job, guys!
I’m sure there’s some joke about how it’s fitting that a team called “Team Yucky” wins a Kappa Alpha/Greek event, but I’m not going to make it. There’s a standard for excellence here at the Daily! We don’t settle or tolerate bad, unfunny jokes!
I don’t think that’s actually true. Just look at this stupid column thing. Like, seriously.
Volume 224, Issue 61, 20 January 2004: Two Roble freshmen arrested
I’m sorry to get all real talk for a second here, but seriously y’all, lying ain’t do nobody any good. Just ask Ayo Jimoh and his lying friend Paul Larson, who were both arrested for “minor-in-possession, giving a false name, being drunk in public, obstructing arrest, and assaulting a police officer.”
I mean, all of those are pretty bad, but really? Giving a false name? I bet he tried to use the ultimate trump card and said “hey y’all I’m President Hennessy kiss my ass!” Which, I don’t know, may have worked on me. Bro can take my financial aid away! He can drink all he wants, as far as I’m concerned!
Volume 224, Issue 62, 21 January 2004: ‘Loveline’ hosts to offer sex solutions tonight
If there is one thing many Stanford students can’t do, it’s figuring out how the hell to date and be with someone.
And I mean, I claim to be no expert, but at least I’m not like those people who are all “Ahh he/she is so attractive I don’t know what to do! What is flirting! How do I sex! Ahhh I we locked eyes at the circle of death what does that mean???”
If only we lived in 2004, when love experts Dr. Drew Pinsky (a doctor in love!) and Adam Carolla help an event where “students will have the opportunity to get all of their questions about love, sex, and relationships answered.” Roughly 1,650 tickets were sold and apparently was a laugh riot mixed in practical advice. Wow! This is the event to go to!
But because in the dark ages of 2015, we don’t have event. Instead, we have me. And I would like to announce here, right here, right now, my new weekly love advice column called the “Quach Watch,” where I can answer your questions while also taking the ladies that caught my eye! Or maybe it’ll be called “Lovin’ With The Quach” or somethin’. The name will figured out sometime soon. Just send in your questions to my email address and I’ll answer them!
Just don’t. You shouldn’t want to hear anything I have to say.
Volume 200, Issue 63, 23 January 1992: INTERMISSION! THE STANFORD DAILY’S ENTERTAINING WEEKLY: Where the kisses are hers, and hers, and …
The Daily had editor-in-chief elections last week! And while platforms revolving around social media and such are compelling and all, I’m pretty surprised that no one ran under the platform of wanting to return The Stanford Daily to its former glory!
And by that, I mean making The Daily an incredibly stupid newspaper like it was back in the day.
And as always, I use the term stupid endearingly! Any newspaper with an entertainment intermission with a picture of a weird, creepy guy holding what seems to be like an anime body pillow type thing and ridiculously awkward articles sounds good to me! Like, this are the opening lines for of this article:
“I don’t want to be attracted to Suzanne Somers. I don’t like myself for it. If it were up to me, I’d get all hot and bothered by Nancy Friday or Joyce Carol Oates or, at the very least, that fat woman in the new Prince video. I’m not proud of it. No, not any of it.”
And the very last line?
“My mother was no longer so attractive.”
What the heck? I’m all for having fun, weird articles on The Daily, but this sexual confession and personal shame fest is… a lot.
But still, I respect the 1992 Daily staff for even publishing something like this. If this were a more serious column, I would make some comment about how I think it’d be cool if The Daily got back in the business of being pretty fun and weird, but… it’s not! So instead…
Like seriously, the picture of this guy is scary. He’s holding this thing called a “thigh-master” which I assume is a workout device but to me it looks like an inflatable anime body pillow and he’s giving this creepy smile.