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COMING It seems appropriate that after pe– rusing fragments of the irrecapturea– ble past and briefly assessing the fluxesque present, we should com– plete the circle and temporarily en· counter the unadvertised future. In order to accomplish this, we have en– listed the assistance of an individual who has the astonishing capacity to peek into the realm of That-Which– Is-To-Occur. Our qualified precognosticator was an individual like us, a college student. He had transferred from a small agricultural college named Tuba State to Buff State on a psychic hunch. He dreamt a blind man hit him on the nose with a rolled up newspaper, yelling, "Bad dog! Bad dog! Go to Buffalo State College!" The next day, while standing in front of a fountain dedicated to Our Friend, The Cow*, a blind man walked up to him and stopped, ap– parently waiting for a bus. A gust of wind suddenly blew up, blowing SWIle of the water on the blind man. Immediately, the blind man grabbed a rolled up umbrella from his coat pocket and opened it up directly into our prophet's face. Going by this event and previous psychic phenom– ena experience, our forecaster decid– ed to transfer to Buffalo State. We haven't given his name, be– cause he doesn't want us to. Basical: ly, he's shy and prefers anonymity. So, we've chosen the alias ofWinston Wellington Gorsnead III, but we'll call him Chet for short. Chet's talents seem to work on their own time . Visions come to him whenever they darn well please. So we wandered around with him and waited for something to happen. While eating at a restaurant, Chet told us some of his past experiences with his forecasting capacities. "One of the most difficult things to do is to try to understand what my visions stand for," he started. "Like earlier this year. I still had my job as a doodlepad for a tattoo artist. He was scribbling away on my back one day when I suddenly saw

SOON • • • this stadium filled with baseball players. But they weren't on the field, they were all in the stands. They all had their uniforms on, and I could recognize some of them. Reggie Jackson was there, eating a Baby Ruth. Someone tossed Davy Lopes some peanuts, but he dropped them. Some other guys were trading base– ball cards, but they didn't look like cards. They looked like cardboard copies of $1,000 dollar bills and in– stead of a president's face on them, there was an agent's. "When I looked at the field, there

Our hopes, Chime softly, Bell; Our traditions, Chime clearly, Bell; Ollr very best, Chime ever, Bell."

and exposed the Organization. Then came the Quartermaines and the Cassodines, which sent Luke and Laura and Scorpio onto the Casso– dines' yacht and on the summervoy– age of the Ice Princess where they dealt with all types of glamour and intrigue and science fiction, and were even on an is land for a couple months. Having survived their con– flicts again, Luke and Laura, our hero and heroine, became married in November. Even Elizabeth Taylor was invited to the marriage who wound up giving them a curse for a wedding gift. All these incredible twists and turns have occurred on daytime tele– vision's hottest show, General Hospital. Because everyone and their brother have become involved with Luke and Laura's love life, we are now able to purchase Luke and Laura scrub sets, coffee mugs, but– tons, paper dolls, Scorpio diamond mines, Tiffany Hill hurricane lamps and Pin-the-tail on the Ice Princess games. Plus, classes on Soap Operas, Happy Hours from three to four (when else?), and magazine covers to feed a nation that has gotten hooked on General Hospital. So much so that students would rather not schedule classes at 3:00 p.m. so as to catch the continuing saga, and people would rather call into work sick than miss the adven– tures of Luke and Laura, not to men– tion Heather, Joe, Bobbie, Noah, Anne, Amy, Leslie, and Rich, and good old Steve and Audrey, and of course, Jesse. Will Monica give Alan a divorce? Who 'll get custody of Alan, Jr.? What about Susan and her baby? Did Heather kill Diana and, if not, then who did? And did Mrs. Grant lie about what the murder weapon was doing in the bureau drawer ... ? "General Hospital, You're my worst affliction. General Hospital, you're my favorite addiction, I just can't cope, without my soap!" And so the world went and goes on

assignment was going to be a lot of fun. It was too bad he couldn't con. trol his forecasting better; we were curious about a few of the questions that were going to appear on the mid– terms in our classes. Gradually, our excitement began to shift towards a more subdued emotion everytime we visited Chet. No new visions had come to him, yet. Part of our deal with him was that we would pay for his meals each time we went out somewhere to talk. Five weeks had slipped away since we started our conversations with him.

alley with our pocket knives drawn. He was walking with a bag full of chickens (not chicken wings, but whole chickens) when we jumped on him, screaming, "Well, what's gonna happen? What's gonna happen?" He saw our gleaming weapons and im– mediately fainted dead away. We panicked at the sight, and quickly tried to revive him. He came to as soon as we waved a chicken under his nose. Penitent and embarrassed for what we had done, we apologized profusely. But, Chet stopped us in mid-apology, saying, "That's alright. I understand. Besides, I had a vision when I passed out. "I was watching TV. Hill Street Blues was on and Belker was biting somebody when a commercial came on. A pair of jeans strutted on the screen and they were singing and dancing. It's hard to describe, but the pants seemed to be showing off the person that was wearing them. And the person had a signature scrawled on their back. And that was it." Well. That was it, huh? We talked it over and all we could decide was that perhaps it was a vision of what gene splicing could bring us one day: Designer People? Anyways, we finally let Chet go on his merry way, complete with his poultry, and we returned to the year– book, with our assignment complet. ed and a lesson learned: To know to– morrow can be expensive today (Ac– tually, it wasn't much of a lesson we learned. We just wanted to get away from that expensive fatty). · The fountain was a bronze study of a large cow, clad in a uniform, and sitting upright atop a vicious looking horse; in his hand or foot was a sword from which water gushed forth in an uncontrollable stream and dribbled all over the sidewalk. It was an oddly constructed monument.

An anonymous donor presented the D bell as a memorial to three for– mer principals of the College. This bell bears the inscription: "In loving memory of three former principals, whose labors have con– tributed to the development of this institution: Henry B. Buckham, 1871-1886; James M. Cassity, 1886- 1908; Daniel Sherman Upton, 1909- 1918. To live in hearts we leave be– hind, is not to die." • Well, it all started when Laura, at age 14, killed her lover, David Hamil– ton, and her mother, Leslie, took the rap for her daughter, who pretended to have a memory block. Meanwhile Scotty Baldwin was in love with Lau– ra, and helped her through all the months of psychoanalysis, and even– tually married his sweetheart when she was but a mere 16. He was study– ing law and she was working in the campus disco, that was run by Luke, who worked for the Organization. The Organization was run by Frank Smith, and he wanted Luke to marry his daughter, Jennifer. Luke, on the other hand , had other ideas. He wanted to expose Frank Smith and the Organization, and he was in love with his employee, Laura. The great love affair began when Luke raped Laura at the disco, while she was still married to Scotty. Even– tually, Laura would fall in love with Luke. On the day that Luke was to marry Jennifer, Scotty found out that he had raped Laura and left to kill Luke. Well, they fought before the wedding, until Luke was pushed overboard from the yacht they were on, and everyone thought that he had died! Not so. Instead, he sought Lau– ra, and together they set out to nail Frank Smith . Luke and Laura were on the run, and they dealt with hit men and men dressed as women and a whole slew of new characters for an entire sum· mer, until they emerged victorious

We look to the future.

was nobody there. Finally the teams c~me out, and they were all flies. Big flies. One team was from California and the other was from Florida. They were tossing around some sort of fruit: line drive peaches and pop fly plUms. The pitcher for the California team was a fat fly named San Fer– nando. All the reporters seemed to ha~g around their team, and giving th~lr manager, Jerry Brown, a lot of gnef. "It wasn't until later on in the year that I connected it with the baseball strike and the Medfly invasion." f We were gettinlJ excited waiting or a vision to appear to Chet. This

Chet's a nice guy, and he's got great stories comparable to anything by Luis Bunuel, but the guy also eats like a hippo. He must have gained 40 lbs. since we first introduced our– selves (and with all those doodles on his back; he probably looks more and more like a billboard). By the seventh week we asked him somewhat jGkingly if he saw us mak– 'ing our deadline. We didn't like the way he said, "Uh, oh, yeah ... sure, sure. Say, let's stop in Buzzy's Pork– Out Shangrila for a bite to eat, okay?" Hmm. Well, he finally did receive a vision. We were waiting for him in a dark

32/(pg. 23 cont.)


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