You think owls are smart don’t you. Don’t you. You think they’re ~wise~. Well you’ve been drinking the same strigiforme lobbyist slop that manifested Hedwig and that Winnie-the-Pooh owl who thinks he can read into our public consciousness. But owls haven’t got the processing power of a desktop abacus.Continue reading
Chalmers is open. The mods remain. Locked, cavernous, silent. They are Kenyon’s Fort Knox, and we must ask what is hidden within. According to the Thrill’s best investigative journalists, the answer to the secret lies in Kenyon’s over-enrollment. It seems they bit off more than they could educate. So they did what we all do with our leftovers.Continue reading
So… you’re not getting vaccinated. Maybe you’re concerned about the three vaccines being FDA “authorized” and not “approved.” Maybe you have a phobia of needles. Maybe you’re complacent. Or maybe you just find it really empowering to walk around as a discrete biological weapon.
You do you.
But if you’re going to opt out, consider some alternative methods to attain immunity.Continue reading
Once a week, in the glimmering light of candles crafted from residual pierce-grease, the mightiest and most mystical of Kenyon faculty gather in the bell tower of the Church of the Holy Spirit (who else didn’t know it was called that) for what is bureaucratically referred to as “staff meetings.” They sit, stand, and kneel, becloaked and smoking really long pipes and sipping mulled wine. Before them, levitating an eighteenth of an inch off his gold-tasseled cushion, with his feline avatar Moxie seated serenely behind the all-knowing campaign screen, the most esteemed Dungeon Master in all of central Ohio with a degree in biophysical chemistry—Sean Decatur.
This is your weekly Dungeons and Decat update.Continue reading