the pine pressvolume 42, issue 3

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Submissions are always welcome.education@msu.coop

If you have ideas for events, please tell your house Education Officer or contact the Vice President of Education, Brendan LaCroix.

We’ll make it happen.

Table of Contents1. Some of my Favorite Words, pt. 1 Forgotten Temple, Elsworth

2. “The Hillsdale Horror” or “Why our housemate Dan has limited social skills” Scott Wozniak, Hillsdale

3. Greenpeace Sonja Trierweiler, Vesta

4. “Fellow Co-opers…” Korey Hurni, Board of Directors

5. Halloween Costumes Katie Courville, New Community

6. Meet a Hillsdalien Phil Ganz, Hillsdale 7. A Story Composed of Texts: What’s in a Mask? Josh W.K., Avalon

8–9. Tales from a house party sober rep. bz, Ferency

10. Hey, it’s Okay to be a Carvin’ Marvin Andrea Goossens, Phoenix

11. Tainted candy Rachel Barth, Miles Davis

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Some of you, I’m sure, have visited Hillsdale since it was recolonized earlier this year. If you haven’t, or don’t know what I’m talking about, Hillsdale is the SHC coop in Downtown Lansing. It was called Bulmer for a few years and people who were not students lived here. When they became less viable and owed the SHC a lot of money, it was decided that it should be turned into a student coop and should be recolonized. There were some fears that no one would want to live in a house so far away from the action, but we now operate with all eight rooms filled!

None of what I just said is horrifying. If you have had the opportunity to visit, you probably know about the scary basement murder/enslavement room. There is a room in the basement here, the laundry room, actually, that was obviously once used to either murder or enslave people. The room is painted grey from floor to ceiling, has a drain on the floor, a closet with a toilet in the middle of it, and has three deadbolts that lock from the outside through a metal plate. Needless to say, the room is horrifying. I refuse to go down there alone, so I often bring the cat.

You’ve also probably met our housemate Dan and wondered why he was so awkward, especially in social situations.

“The Hillsdale Horror” or “Why our housemate Dan

has limited social skills” by Scott Wozniak

What do those two things have in common?

Before moving into Hillsdale, I hand never met Dan. I had heard that he had “lived in Ypsilanti” and “only visited East Lansing occasionally”. When he did visit, he could only be found at Ferency. I immediately became suspicious of this story.

No one “lives in Ypsilanti”. No one visits East Lansing and only hangs out at Ferency. No one hangs out at Ferency. Nice try Dan.

You don’t need to hide anymore, Dan, and since I know you won’t tell your story, I will tell it for you.

Dan was enslaved in our laundry room for years by Thu. She only let him out occasionally and only allowed him to go to Ferency. I knew something was wrong when I noticed that Dan had difficulty saying appropriate things in social situations and didn’t like crowds. It really makes sense that he was locked in a laundry room for years and had limited interactions with people. Since he was only allowed out to go to Ferency, it makes sense that he still doesn’t know how normal people act around other people. Those social skills would be impossible to learn at Ferency. Dan’s malnourishment and impossible stories about a previous life in Ypsilanti are also dead giveaways.

The next time you visit Hillsdale, or the first time, make sure you request a tour of our horrifying basement, and remember the terror that must have been felt by Dan as he relives his experiences everyday.

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by Scott Wozniak

Arrested this past Thursday, October 20th, were three members of MSU Greenpeace. MSU Greenpeace held a clean energy rally in front of the Administration Building on campus Thursday at 3pm. While many stayed outside the building, seven students went up to President Simon’s office to deliver a letter outlining their concerns, attempting to convince her that MSU transitioning to 100% clean energy is vital. They proceeded to conduct a sit-in in her office until their message could be heard. Unfortunately, it appeared as though President Simon was unable to find time to meet with her students, even though they waited for two hours, and even though she was only in the room next door.

The police told the students that they could stay, but they had to leave by 5 o’clock. At 5, four of the students left, but three remained. Police arrested the three and they were taken to the police station, which is located, ironically, directly across from the coal plant.

As many of you probably already know, MSU continues to burn coal in order to power the campus. Not only is this environmentally damaging, but the smoke produced from burning coal is detrimental to the health of the student body and the people in the surrounding area. Coal is one of the greatest contributors to air pollution and induces harm to the health of those who are forced to breathe it in.

On a more superficial scale, MSU’s initiative to be “green” is also highly tarnished and hardly applicable by having the largest on-campus coal plant in the nation. By releasing foreign chemicals into the air and mandating that occupants of the area inhale these toxins, MSU is anything but “green.”

And what is especially frustrating about the situation is that 100% clean energy is completely feasible. It is only a matter of initiating and approving the transition. This is the future we must look out for: not one clouded with smoke from coal burning plants, but rather a healthier one: one that is 100% clean and renewable.

Want to get involved? Learn more? Check out MSU Greenpeace’s facebook page: www.facebook.com/msugreenpeace

Or their website:www.msugreenpeace.blogspot.com

Greenpeace by Sonja Trierweiler

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Fellow Co-opers,

Isn’t East Lansing beautiful this time of year?

As Persephone packs her bags, and begins to say goodbye to her mother, we rejoice with the bounty of the harvest.

We also rejoice in the fact that Halloween is approaching us, and we all know what that means, right?

Alcohol. Lots of alcohol.

If anyone needs a good recommendation for a pumpkin beer, I suggest Southern Tier’s Pumking. Whereas MBC’s Screaming Pumpkin lacks a body, relying too heavily on spice, and New Holland’s Ichabod has no noticeable ‘pumpkin’ flavor, Southern Tier replicates, almost too well, the flavor of a pumpkin pie. Yes, that includes the whipped cream on top. It’s delicious, and will kick you on your ass with a daunting 8.6 ABV.

“But, Korey,” as I can already hear the five of you who read my articles say, “you’re supposed to write an article relaying information from the Board of Directors to the general membership. Where is that?”

I say to you, my five readers plus Brendan LaCroix (because I assume he proofreads everything before printing), that there really isn’t anything of interest to discuss. Well, yet anyway. We’re changing information in the contracts people sign for next year, and the EC are finally compensated for all their hard work. Oh, and Howland, but you guys already know that. Interesting stuff, right? I recommend everyone come to a Board meeting, just once, to see what it is we all do.

While the five of you, plus Brendan, can probably sense my poor attempt at sarcasm, this does touch on a matter that you, the general

membership, should know. There is a special little moment during the Board meetings called MEMBER TIME. Wherein, I quote, “Member time is a time set aside for members to voice any concerns about anything they want the Board of Directors to hear”.

This time is largely unused, and while this may be because there are absolutely no conflicts in our system that can’t be solved outside the house/office level, it leads me to wonder if you, my five readers plus Brendan, even are aware of this at all. While we don’t need to hear about how housemate X is letting their cat run wild, pissing on the plant in your living room that may or may not be named “Moses,” this time is meant to address those issues that cannot be solved at house or office level. While it’s hard to give examples, a common theme during my run as Board rep has been issues regarding vacancies, and more generally, issues with contracts. However, the scope is not as narrow. While the poorly defined “any concerns” may seem overly expansive, it really just gives you, the member of our fine cooperative, an outlet if you feel you’re trapped and don’t know where else to turn.

Man, I let shit get serious pretty fast, eh?

Let’s go back to beer. Who else is excited for this winter’s batch of Hopslam? I know Joe Urda (of Bowie) and I are excited.

Also, what happened to Crispin at tap at Crunchy’s? It better be back in time for my usual Sunday Night trip.

Also, come to NASCO Institute. Or, at least, encourage members whom you think would benefit from a cooperative retreat (of sorts) to go to NASCO Institute.

In cooperation,

~ Korey Hurni

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Halloween is upon us. If you’re still on the struggle bus and can’t find a costume, I have a few suggestions.

by Katie Courville

Old woman in search of her puppy Sexy Policewoman One-Night StandRandom comedy: Classic Random sexiness: Common What the fuck?

Halloween costumes

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Name: Daniel MikolajczykAge: 21 years youngBirthday: August 6Interests: Fish, serial killers, blowtorch, snaggle-toothDislikes: AstronautsMusic: “King Crimson, the 1970-1975 lineup of Genesis… you have to be that specific, Soft Machine, Chopin, Paderewski”Favorite things about living in Hillsdale: “The cat, housemates, location”Favorite housemate: “None of you. Ferency [is my favorite housemate]. Maureen.Least favorite housemate: “Scott Wozniak… Throw some pepperoni on that too. Write that. He’ll know what it means.”Favorite color: “Blue”Favorite season: “Winter. I like snow. I don’t like driving in it but I like picking it up and making things with it. Throwing it. I like wearing a coat too because it gives me more pockets.”Favorite vacation: “I’ve only been on one family vacation. Our dad took us to the Wisconsin Dells. We went on a fairy ride.”Favorite eating utensil: “Fork”Favorite Artists: “Kandinsky, Jacek Yurka”Goal: “Work dumb restaurant jobs so that I can just paint and draw.”General Life Philosophy: “Umm, hmmm I guess not to think too hard or work myself up too much about anything because a single life is not that meaningful. You shouldn’t get too worked up about anything during your life because it’s really not that important… and do things that make you happy.”Various quotes throughout interview: “You hear my stomach?”, “I wish I could paint fish, like well. I should try to get good at that. That’d be pretty cool.”, “You want this pill I found?”, “Hey Phil, look at little Nazi youth cat.” (holds cat paw up in heil gesture).Scott Wozniak enters room and drags Daniel back to the basement where he belongs. End of interview.

Meet a Hillsdalien by Phil Ganz

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E: Peanut butter or jelly? Z: Neither, it’s honey.E: An answer to satisfy the gods!Z: Mm, yes. They took it all for themselves.E: However, the people are furious for such a sacrifice. Now all of Greece will experience honey shortages for many years to come.Z: Damned to a life without honey, the entire country loses its heart, and slips into the sea.E: But since water is denser than oil, Greece floated to the top, a honeyless island.Z: A ship is sent west towards the setting sun, hoping to find that lingering golden taste somewhere in the sea or sky.E: It comes back with many exotic spices and fine textiles, but, alas, The succulent nectar is only a Greek commodity—or so it seems. Although the ship returns with a strange plant will small seeds called opium and the people of the island realize its value. Now they no longer care for hone, but live and die by opium.Z: The cities grow silent. Living dreams, caviar from the sea, and smoke rings so surreal inhabit the dens, and the homes...E: The once prosperous island became a wasteland of lethargy as the people grew increasingly indifferent and even destructive to their former homes. Poppy island divided into tribes.

A Story Composed of Texts: What’s in a Mask?

by Josh Wald-Kerr

~ So what does a loosely spun story have to do with Halloween? Isn’t it easy to dream and make up a tale, put on a mask and wail and cry and howl freely, isn’t breathing easy with that mask? But ask yourself, for the other three hundred and sixty four days of the year, why don’t we live this way? Do we fear that light of day reveals more about what’s in the dark and more than saying something, we’re afraid of the possibility of rupturing the carefully maintained public image we’ve spun, and that the “real us” could be captured? Are we nostalgic because of what we miss or what we’ve got today to show for it all?Why is there a distinction between our dreams and our lives?Where will you be after this next dream?

Just a few thoughts, not to be taken too seriously. Happy Halloween, all! ~

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As most of you know, a fellow co-oper and Ferency’s golden child (Maureen) turned the big 2-1 this past weekend. In honor of her special day, we threw her a pretty saweet party.

Let me start from the beginning. The theme for the party was denim disco which meant that everyone had to sport their finest Canadian tuxedo. (I had some killer jorts (jean shorts) and a rockin’ denim jacket to match.) Within two hours of the party, no one yet had decided who the sober rep was going to be, so I enlisted myself (you guys owe me). For the first leg of the party, I was mingling with some roommates and friends. During this phase, one of my roommates volunteered me to do a threesome. To some people’s disappointment, it didn’t happen, but it didn’t prevent the guy from trying to feed me tequila for the rest of the night.

As the night ticked by, I took over door duty, where another Ferencian decided not to let anyone in or out of the door unless they knew the phone number, e-mail or street address of some random name he called off. After giving him the boot, he decided it would be a good idea to lick my face and put his tongue in my mouth. Maybe I would have been into it, but really, after having no trace of liquid courage in me, I was slightly, uh, what’s the word…disturbed.

For a solid two hour block, I was the door wench, letting people in and out. (Mostly people in, because no one wanted to leave our amazing party.) Had I known then, what I know now, I probably would have chosen to stay inside. I mean, being out there was like being a deer during open hunting season or something. Practically every guy who walked through the door was throwing some sort of pick up line at me. Gross dot com. Here are some of my favorites:

“Are you from the south? You look like you could be from the south – girls from the south have really pretty faces and look really nice. You look like that.” “You are so pretty you should be in catalogs.” “You are way to good looking to be standing out here, come in with me.” “Heeey threesome! Let me go get something for you to drank.”

Tales from a house party sober rep. by bz

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Aside from the “compliments,” I met some pretty interesting people too. There was a pretty douche-y, ‘roided out baseball player; a jolly fellow who would break into singing America the Beautiful every couple of minutes; and a lot of co-opers whom I hadn’t previously met.

Oh! I can’t forget the two older gentlemen who showed up towards the end. Here’s how it went: these two guys walk up, one looks as happy as a clam and the other one looks slightly pissed and annoyed. They asked very politely if they could have some water, so I obliged. When we were inside and I got them their cups (our bartenders had abandoned ship at this point) I was going to head back out to my post. The chap who looked annoyed revealed he was 31 and married and didn’t want to be there – he was just trying to get his pal home. In a matter of seconds, there was an exchange of thank you’s and you’re welcome’s and then somehow the un-married guy’s lips were on mine. Yikes. At that point, it was time for them to leave.

After the moment I shared with the mature man, I stood outside for a bit longer.By the time 4 am rolled around, I was exhausted and freezing. I decided to call it a night, seeing as how the police were not yet called. I finally crawled into my nice warm bed and was serenaded to sleep by the sweet and tender rap verses of Ferency’s favorite DJ. The next morning I woke up, hangover free and ready to clean house. Happy that I was able to recall everything from the night before, I am greatly looking forward to what this coming Halloween weekend will reveal, where I will be in both East Lansing and Ann Arbor. We shall see what night will have the better story. Until then – Live, Laugh, L<3ve.

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Carving pumpkins is one of the most awesome, yet relatively useless traditions of Halloween. The only thing it seems to be good for, really, is a boost of pride. It does not matter how terrible you are at carving pumpkins, trying will surely get you an “ooooh, that’s neat” from someone, even if it’s just your mother. Then, after you slaved away for an hour, covered in gooey, stringy gross, you find your beloved pumpkin broken on the sidewalk the next day. There are a million acts on this planet that can spark a deep sense of revenge and hatred, but not many quite so deep as this. When I see a broken pumpkin, a perfect representation of my newly shattered heart, I want to punch everyone in a ten foot radius in the face for hurting me so terribly. It always takes a day or two, but then I remember how insignificant my pumpkin every really was, and the pain subsides. However, the warm feeling of having created something on my own, and with good friends, is still there. So, although pumpkin carving is not vital for survival, it is one of the best traditions of all, because it comes from the heart.

Hey, It’s Okay to be a Carvin’ Marvin by Andrea Goossens

Here are a few of my pumpkins that I have carved throughout the years:

Okay, so I didn’t do this one…

Love, Andrea Goossens: A Proud Carvin’ Marvin

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As I sit here eating candy, I’m reminded of trick-or-treating, which is what made Halloween especially exciting as a child. Eating candy is not exclusive to Halloween, but at no other time or context can you walk up to a stranger’s door wearing a costume and get free candy from them. Although awesome, this is also sort of a weird concept, so thinking about it led me to do some “research” (thanks Wikipedia!) on the history of trick-or-treating. It was surprisingly boring, but I did learn more about of the fear of tainted candy. There have been very few actual issues, but there were two events that somehow convinced people that Halloween candy was dangerous.

In 1964, a woman in Long Island gave children she thought were too old to be trick-or-treating inedible objects like steel wool, dog biscuits, and ant buttons that were clearly labeled poisonous. Six years later, the New York Times published an article about tainted candy, providing specific examples of potential ways in which candy could be tampered with and saying, “those Halloween goodies that children collect this weekend on their rounds of ‘trick or treating’ may bring them more horror than happiness.” Nobody was hurt by the Long Island woman’s “treats,” and the New York Times article probably just gave people ideas of how to taint candy, but, according to Wikipedia, those two events definitely made people think someone was out to hurt their children using Halloween candy as a medium.

The moral of the story is that we should continue joking about tainted candy because it’s an unsubstantiated myth and not an actual issue—and that in some parts of Canada, instead of saying, “trick or treat,” children say “Halloween apples.”

Tainted candy by Rachel Barth

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