The service industry is a curious thing. As many students-by-day and servers-by-night will attest, you'll piss somebody off if you work in service long enough.

"Crazies"--as they are affectionately known--are out there. If you've ever been a server, you've bumped into them. So what happens when the latest "crazy" has the power to really fuck you up?

Reports of the death of irony have been greatly exaggerated.

I'm not talking about the kind of irony you learned about in your high school English class. I'm talking about a style of humour referred to as "Gen-X irony" by the media in their erroneous reports of its death.

"Why did they do this?" you might
be asking yourself. "Is it not in times of great duress that our need for humour is
greatest?"

With four long and arduous years of post-secondary education and a kinesiology degree under my belt, I decided it was time to stretch my wings and expand the horizons of my intellectual pursuits. After labs, computers and cadavers, I was ready for something less scientific, less defined and a little more subjective.

Accordingly, this September I registered in two political science classes.

Sitting atop a once peaceful green space, the new Information and Communication Technology building is finally casting its shadow over campus. Although construction is not yet finished, there doesn't seem to be much room for improvement judging by what is complete.

Earlier this week, I heard a little something on the radio which once again confirmed a little theory of mine. It was a news update. Directly after mentioning Prime Minister Chrétien will not be cutting taxes this year, it went on to say Premier Ralph Klein will not either. Coincidence, you say? I disagree.

You see, neither of them will ever admit it, but Klein and Chrétien are really secret pals. Yes, secret pals.

It's a good thing for U.S. President George W. Bush that congressmen from California are frisky folk. I, for one, wouldn't be the least bit surprised if a fruit basket and elaborate thank you card from 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue were awaiting Gary Condit, urging him to keep up the good work.

It strikes me that, as a whole, the U of C is far too open.

Yes. Too open, too above board, too smiley-shiny-rosy-easy. This campus would benefit from a little subterfuge.

Am I crazy? Not on this point. Universities that are more established than ours enjoy rich histories of bizarre rituals, groups and practices that make the campus experience more interesting. The one thing the best of these traditions share is that they are illicit.

"Koizumimania" may not have the same ring to it as "Trudeaumania," but the phenomenon is the same. Japan's new Prime Minister, Junichiro Koizumi, has won the hearts of his people in the same way that the late great Canadian PM won the hearts of Canadians in the 1970s.

The inevitability of the situation was overwhelming. Nearly a decade has passed since its intensity burned hottest. Some had even written it off as a piece of history, a moment in time that will never be forgotten, but never repeated. Yet, over the past few months, the sleeping monster has begun to stir, and all members involved are realizing that it wasn't dead, just dormant.

I have a problem. It's one I'm sure I share with many other students. My car is nearly as old as I am and it runs as frequently as it doesn't. If you drive down Memorial Drive and see a sun-faded '85 Mustang with bald tires, odds are that's me, broken down, again.