Editor’s Note: This article is purely satirical and fictitious. All attributions in this article are not genuine, and this story should be read in the context of pure entertainment only.
The Stanford Daily humor section has noticed that, aside from “journalism,” the Daily Californian does not produce any humor content. For years, the predominant assumption on both sides of the Bay was that the Daily Californian simply lacked a section for, or a sense of, humor.
However, further investigation has uncovered that the Daily Cal does, in fact, have a humor section. Yet, just as with all things Berkeley, their humor publication is an overcrowded, under-resourced and unpublished mess.
In the basement of the Daily Californian building — an old, single-story, office space wedged between a parking garage and a run-down cafe — you can find tens of students huddled around a single, circa-2006 Dell computer. The air is stuffy, filled with the shouts and grunts of students wrestling each other for control over the single desktop’s keyboard (which is missing the letters “h,” “e,” “l,” and “p”). Only one wooden chair remains, with two piles of wood from chairs that have obviously been broken over other people’s heads lying around the ground. Scratched into the walls, you can barely see the words “KNOCK KNOCK…” To most, it’s a crime scene; to the members of the Daily Cal humor section, it’s home.
Pitch sessions are always a nightmare, sources told The Daily. One writer complained, “Everyone’s too worried about being politically correct. They’ve been infected with the Woke Mind Virus. That, and vitamin D deficiency.” Another source stated, “Everyone here is way too insensitive. They’re all so hurtful. Making fun of our mascot? Way too Furphobic. Making fun of any Berkeley student? We should be punching up, not down.” A third writer pointed out that “punching down” implies that there is someone beneath them, a clear product of “capitalism/the patriarchy/the college admissions system.”
Besides sensitivity to criticism, the Daily Cal humor section is tightly constrained by ink availability. If they ever were to publish, the Daily Cal humor section only gets the ink allotment for 600 characters — 500 if titles are in different fonts. As a result, humor content production is a Sisyphian feat of effort and futility; especially for freshmen, who power the building by pushing a boulder up a treadmill hooked up to a gas-powered generator. By contrast, this co-authored piece barely saw any progress as both authors hoped the other one would do most of the work. And, where laziness encourages mediocrity, competition breeds chaos.
The toxic work environment is worsened by the looming presence of the Humor Editor (only known as, “The Editor”). Curiously, The Editor’s identity remains a secret because they only wear a specialized bear costume: a failed Freddy Fazbear cosplay converted into a promiscuous fursuit. Writers pitch their pieces on the verge of tears before their demonic overseer creeps up to their face and, through soulless eyes, screeches “Not funny!” repeatedly. The Editor carries a baseball bat and frequently “corrects” freshmen for even the slightest of errors. When asked about their background in comedy, The Editor revealed that their training included watching countless hours of Ricky Gervais stand up and an internship on “The Ellen Show.”
When we were finally able to contact The Editor to discuss their chronic lack of production, they responded: “It’s all theoretical. Theoretically, we’re funny. Theoretically, we produce content. Theoretically, I would have a desk. One day, I hope to see my theory become reality.” The Editor — a seventh-year senior — may still be a Cal student by that date, seeing as they has been unable to meet his gen-ed requirements due to “space limitations in classes.”
“We’re still real contenders,” The Editor noted, “We’re constantly going toe-to-toe with our rivals, The Stanford Daily humor section.”
“The Daily Cal has a humor section?” Asked a perplexed Sam Lustgarten ‘26, Czar of The Stanford Daily humor section. Besides Czar Lustgarten’s scheming underling, Desk Editor Brandon Rupp ’25, not a single member of The Stanford Daily had been aware of Cal’s humor section. Once made aware, Lustgarten reached out to The Editor to try and establish a tutoring program. Lustgarten has yet to receive a response, nor proof of their existence.