GONGSHOW U.
By
Mike Greeley & Joe Pearce
It’s that time of the year again. The Super Bowl. The Beanpot. Valentine’s Day. February is here and it is cold out. The Chinese New Year has begun. Spring break is rapidly approaching.
Last night’s Super Bowl XL was nothing historic. We heard more talk today of commercials then of anything football-related. It reminded us of this year’s World Series, when most fans (around here, at least) didn’t care much who won. The Sox won it all last year, so this year’s Sox-less playoffs carried little weight. Similarly, the Pats have won three of the last four Super Bowls, thus creating Boston’s first official dynasty since the Celtics, and this year’s match-up between the Steelers and the Seahawks didn’t matter much to anyone. The game was an afterthought on many college campuses, and the night’s main event became the halftime show and the arrival of the Domino’s delivery man.
We also weren’t too excited about the national anthem performance by Aretha Franklin, Aaron Neville and Dr. John. We didn’t know who the latter two people were, but they should’ve stayed home. Aretha is a legend, and we respect anyone who can sing the national anthem, win a sausage-eating contest, and play on the Steeler’s defensive line all in one night, but we don’t like it when singers change the national anthem and make it into a ten minute long vocal bowel movement. Francis Scott Key definitely didn’t have that kind of charade in mind when he wrote “The Star Spangled Banner.” We’d put our national anthem money on BC tennis vixen and Gongshow U. favorite Lindsey Nash, who has been known to wow Beanpot crowds with her more traditional rendition.
Speaking of vixens, February 14th is just around the corner. Valentine’s Day can be either good or bad, depending on your relationship status and your cash flow. Boston restaurants have men in a strangle-hold because they know that everybody is taking their date out somewhere nice and there are no shortcuts. The whole “fixed menu” thing sounds alright until you get to the restaurant and every meal costs $90 per person. That is ninety dollar drafts. Or nine hundred ten-cent wings. Or nine thousand pieces of penny candy. Imagine what would happen if every girlfriend at BC took a raincheck on the fancy dinner and instead wanted to put all Valentine’s cash towards Happy Hour? Now that is true romance.
Valentine’s Day also has a hidden, darker side. While some people are in a relationship and have a big date planned, the majority of people are left depressed and alone on a Hallmark holiday created exclusively for established couples. The most intriguing of this group are the cougars. Everybody should know what a cougar is. Cougars are loosely defined as older women seeking younger men. They often dress and look younger than they actually are. They flock to places where younger people hang out. These cougar dens are prime hunting ground for these carnivorous, predacious women, who are especially apt to prey on unsuspecting college-aged males. Cougars travel in groups and hunt as a pack, all working toward the same ultimate goal. Sometimes recent divorcees or just women still looking for the right guy, a lot of cougars seem to think that the “right guy” could be a finance major who shares an on-campus eight-man suite with his buddies and is young enough to be her oldest nephew. Cougars are often members at multiple gyms and tanning salons, and no less than 80% of this species has bleached blonde hair. Although cougars are widely accepted in our culture and viewed as a vital demographic in urban nightlife, the male version of the cougar is referred to as a creep, sicko, or dirtbag. This double standard is alright with us, as we consider female cougardom to be the only legal, acceptable form of sexual predation. Cougars should not be confused with M.I.L.Fs, although there is usually some overlap between the two groups. Mary Kaye Letorneau is perhaps the most infamous cougar in American history, and her story prompted a nationwide increase in cougar attacks. These attacks often occur in downtown bars and clubs which attract a younger, single male clientele and the cougars know that there is an abundance of vulnerable prey. The Liquor Store, with its mechanical bull and dark dance floor, is prime cougar habitat. It won’t be long until we hear of the first-ever female on male roofie incident, and we know it could happen right in our own backyard.
In the weeks leading up to Valentines Day, collegiate online hotspot Facebook.com is abuzz with updated relationship statuses, friend requests, and new pictures as everybody wants to market themselves to the opposite sex in the best way possible. For those of our readers who aren’t familiar with “The Facebook”, we are sorry- you are really missing out. The Facebook, started by a Harvard kid who probably needed an online social networking tool like we need oxygen, is the latest in the internet’s revolutionary social trends. The Facebook is AOL Instant Messenger after repeated BALCO “mystery cream” rub-downs. Every registered user has his or her own Facebook profile which has a picture, contact information, interests, relationship status, favorite music, movies, quotes, and more. It’s like having a F.B.I. docket on every available college girl in the country. After the advent of Facebook, we could approach girls at parties and already know everything about them. Very stalker-ish, yes, but everyone does it. If you don’t use it, you are at a disadvantage. If cougars could get Facebook, it would be like giving deer hunters heat-seeking missiles. On Facebook, you can send messages, create photo albums, join groups, and “poke” other people. Poking, though not defined by The Facebook and open to interpretation, is a form of online flirting similar to extended eye contact, a smile, or a wink. “Drunk Poking” has become the new drunk dialing, and many a relationship has been started by a spontaneous poke between two total strangers.
Facebook is not perfect, however, and even this modern marvel of social networking has its flaws. The personal picture is often an area of concern. With males, it is too-often an attempt to demonstrate one’s faux machismo or obviously non-existent gongshow lifestyle. Many a freshman starts off the year with a picture of him holding a keg above his head, chugging a beer, or anything else that deliberately includes the consumption of alcohol. The worst of the worst are shirtless, funneling a beer, and giving the clichéd “shocker” hand sign to the camera. These pictures should cause public outrage and harassment, and fortunately they don’t last much beyond the first month of school. On the other side of the spectrum, girls are very prone to deceptive practices with their Facebook picture. All too often do we hear stories of supposed vixens with super-hot Facebook pictures, only to turn out to be shadow-lurking dance floor dragons in real life. This isn’t surprising, and just as the corporate world has been rocked by ethical scandals, the Facebook community has been hit with a barrage of Facebook fake-outs, the college equivalent of “cooking the books.” It’s a shame, but any Facebook veteran knows to cross-reference all coeds via the Facebook photo albums and mutual Facebook friends before taking further action.
On a final note, we would like to call some attention the to legendary “Jesus Saves” guy who has been at every major concert, sporting event, wedding, funeral, bat mitzvah, parade, Filene’s Basement Bridal Sale, or street drummer performance in Boston over the past decade. He is always there. He was outside the Beanpot tonight, handing out his pamphlets and spreading the word. Which word he’s spreading, we aren’t sure. But this guy is pretty determined, and everyone has seen him lurking around at least a few times. Round glasses, scraggly hair, tall and skinny. He has become a Boston fixture, just like the ticket scalpers who are outside every event that ever happens in this city. If he really wanted to spread his word, he’d find a way to get on The Facebook. We believe that “Jesus Saves,” but does Jesus poke?