Maggie's cheat sheet: fall term, in verse| 11/30/07 3:01am
'Twas the night before deadline, and inside Maggie's head,
No Mirror column was stirring as she lay in bed.
The Blue Zoo was still, not a sound left to hear,
(For her housemates were out drinking box wine and beer).
And I thought, "By next week, they will all be a-hating!
Their good times replaced by the stress and berating!"
The deadlines and essays will drive us each mad,
Not a soul will remember the ventures we've had.
I sat up with a start, for my mission was clear:
To create a verse that will rival King Lear.
So take a quick minute from work (or from brew),
And please let me present you: THE TERM IN REVIEW.
In SEPTEMBER trustees had some scandal in store,
Full-page ads in the Times led alums into war.
The Board doubled its size without coming to blows,
Though the temperature amongst our trustees surely rose.
On campus, new freshmen joined us here in frat heaven;
Like Spinal Tap, Dartmouth now "goes up to '11."
The first day of class brought the Dem candidates,
Though few of us won tickets to see the big debates.
Some spent days and long nights helping out on campaigns,
(Others stood on Main Street gawking at Robert Haines).
In the end, the debate rendered no clear first places,
And fast as they came, they went back to the races.
And some happenings happened in the press, of course:
French President Sarkozy and his wife got divorced.
Al Gore won himself half of a Nobel Peace Prize
For he tried to save us from the climate's demise.
OCTOBER made many a-sophomore girl blush
When they schmoozed for a week with the big kids at rush.
Until late in the night, we delibed and we sorted,
'Cross campus, faint echoes of "DING" were reported.
Yet, all's well that ends well, and after the strife
A new class was ushered into the Greek life.
Come the end of the month, Halloween came and went,
In costume choice, "less is more" was ever evident.
October was host to a Dartmouth homecoming,
Alums all returned for some skeeving and slumming.
Legalized field-rush made that old custom lame,
No brave soul touched the fire, 'twas really a shame.
All were shocked (bit unnerved?) when the football team won,
And too soon, the big weekend was over and done.
In Calif., heat and drought led to massive wildfire,
They raged on for three weeks, the whole country perspired.
More unrest was afoot, this time far to the East --
In Burma, monk's protests were forcedly peace-d.
What began as a modest call for retribution
Grew to what has been dubbed the "Saffron Revolution."
All of Burma was blocked out from using e-mail,
And some guess that 6,000 still linger in jail.
Lastly, one obit (promise, there won't be too many),
We said "farewell" to James Bond's Miss Moneypenney.
NOVEMBER was over as fast as it came,
The month rumors of roofies were launched into fame.
Philanthropists flocked to a talk from Paul Farmer,
(He's everyone's favorite disease-fighting charmer).
This week witnessed a nightmare of a PR bomb --
Ole' Trustee Zywicki was called out on YouTube.com.
He coined late President Freedman a "truly evil man"?
This cannot be the most graceful alumni game plan.
Their injunction was moot, so they filed a case,
These alumni are serious about the trustee race.
On Robinson! Rodgers! On Smith, and on Zywicki!
(Aren't these swipes at the Board growing ever more sticky?)
The writer's guild strike has hampered telecasts,
And, the death of the author: Norman Mailer passed.
Two labs have made stem cells that aren't from embryos,
(This could change the way medicine's practiced, you knows).
As the fears over oil and climate change mounds,
Concerns of recession began to abound:
The trade deficit's high; will it put us in squalor?
Can we aim to maintain the value of the dollar?
Even our boy Jay-Z is not looking so sure-o,
In his new video, he is flashing the Euro.
As the nation of Pakistan nigh lost its cool,
Musharraf declared an emergency rule.
Soon will come their time to elect a new chief,
But the President won't run vs. Nawaz Sharif.
For the moment, disaster just might have been ducked
('till Iran gets the bomb and we're all straight up f*cked).
Now in only a month, we'll become "nation's first"
To vote on which candidate's best of the worst.
In the meantime, take care and don't miss me too much
For this is the last article, before break and such.
Saturday marks December, when holidays thrive,
Then comes Winter term: only the strong survive.
But, if Parkhurst came knocking, 'twould be such a sham,
So I'd best go brush up before final exams.
Have a good time at formal, and stay out of trouble,
If merry TDX-mas leaves you seeing in double.
It's chilly, sweet reader, so bundle up tight,
Merry Friday to all, now go fight the good fight.