Column:

A tour of campus, and the next one's free

By Dan Friesen

Published July 12, 2006

What follows is the text of my proposed script for a Summer Welcome tour, to be led by none other than your beloved columnist.

I would love to include an unabridged script, but that that is beyond the scope of my column. You see, my tour starts with an hour-long speech, followed by an hour-long walk around campus, and concludes with an hour-long severely inebriated Q&A session.

"Incoming freshmen, anxious parents: let me be the first to formally welcome you to this underwhelming university.

I'm sorry, that's not entirely fair. Our gym is quite overwhelming.

Our athletic teams disappoint year after year, yet that does not stop us from breaking NCAA regulations in a pathetic attempt to buy our way to national respect.

We've got a lot of bored, morally unscrupulous Wal-Mart money in this town. Really, I suggest you all try out for the football or basketball teams and wet your beak in that vast sea of legally questionable sports payoffs.

Hold on, I misspoke. I suggest all you males try out for the sports teams. It turns out, there's no money and little interest in women's sports, except gymnastics. But that is just thanks to the tiny tight uniforms.

"If you look to your left, you'll see our pledge drive tote board. We're looking to set a collegiate record by raising a billion dollars. Now, I know a lot of you may be asking, 'What the hell does MU need with a billion clams?' I'm glad you asked.

The story goes something like this: Chancellor Richard Wallace has been a long-time fan of local artist Paul Jackson. He couldn't get enough of those watercolor tigers. They were simple, as if painted by a child.

The Board of Aesthetics Management on campus was pressuring Wallace to add a new artistic piece to campus, and the concept of the Tiger Spot was born. He knew instantly that Jackson was the man for the job, but he also knew that Jackson was as agreeable as a junkyard dog.

True to form, Jackson made a series of ridiculous demands including a two-year subscription to Black Tail and 4 billion quarters. He wanted the quarters so he could put stickers on them to protest the decision not to include his design on the new Missouri state quarter. Black Tail he wanted for personal reasons.

Wallace accepted his demands in an episode universally seen as infested with poor judgment and foresight.

We are now standing in the Speaker's Circle. Once a place where students could get together, celebrate the First Amendment and masturbate.

The circle today is used more as a sort of petting zoo for humans with extreme messages. On any given day, you could see a fundamentalist Christian yelling at sinful students. Forgive us Father, we know not what we do! Fanatical religious folk are so cute and funny!

The next day, you might see the 9/11 conspiracy theorists. You're right! Bush is the new Hitler! Oh, what a treat!

Gay people are having a symbolic marriage! Yeah, dude! Kiss that other dude! Shock the bigots into accepting you!