15 September 2000
Automotive Lebensraum
JB vs. parking lot expansion.

22 September 2000
Football Returns to HC
JB vs. the Harvard Crimson.

29 September 2000
West of the Hudson
JB vs. people from 'flyover territory.'

6 October 2000
Americans Under Attack
JB vs. hurtful stereotypes.

27 October 2000
The Silverware Bandit
JB vs. law and order, Kimball-style.

3 November 2000
ITS Alive
JB vs. the college's Napster policy.

10 November 2000
Hail to the Chief
JB vs. Gore vs. Bush vs. Nader.

17 November 2000
Complaints, Complaints
JB vs. student government.

2 February 2001
The Semester Ahead
JB vs. anticipated 'senior nostalgia.'

16 February 2001
Unequal Equivalency
JB vs. Crossroads' capitalist pigs.

23 February 2001
Xcess of Xtreme
JB vs. the WWF's Vince McMahon.

2 March 2001
The Eve of Spring Break
JB vs. brainwashing cults.

30 March 2001
Losing the Lottery
JB vs. on-campus housing selection.

30 March 2001
The Greatest Rivalry Ever
JB vs. Major League Baseball.

6 April 2001
Door-to-Door Campaigning
JB vs. campus elections '01.

27 April 2001
Crunch Time
JB vs. the Soggies.

4 May 2001
Crusade for a Better Paper
MB vs. Brocklesby's evil plan.

Apparently this had happened some five or six days ago, under cover of darkness. One morning the tower was there for all to see from our Hilltop vantage point, and the next morning -- poof, gone. We were inconsolably distressed by the loss of our analog chronographic companion, so noticeably so that my friend Joey Brocklesby '03 offered his condolences and asked me what was wrong.

It's the clock tower, I told him. I recounted stories of my undying love for the clock tower, and of those numerous times when the it had saved me from certain death. Joey, clearly either impressed or emotionally disturbed (it's so hard to tell with kids these days), led me out of Kimball and told me to feast my eyes on: the clock tower, thoroughly radiant in its Gothic beauty. Undisturbed, unmoved, untarnished.

Joey explained to me that the construction of new Smith Hall was probably blocking the view of the clock tower, which had never really been stolen at all (or at least, he conceded, if it had been stolen, it had been placed back exactly where the perpetrator had found it -- no questions asked).

It was then that I noticed that Joey was packing heat. And it wasn't some penny-ante Dorm Assassins gun either. It was serious firepower: the SuperSoaker Monster XL, filled with the most vile substance known to mankind -- a deadly combination of diluted Kimball grape juice, diluted Kimball Clam Chowder, and full-strength Kimball "guava" juice. Joey was a force with which to be reckoned. He claimed that as the preeminent gentleman gangster at this school, he needed to be able to defend himself.

"It all started a few weeks ago, when me and a bunch of my guys in Loyola started stealing Kimball silverware."

Silverware? How could you, Joey! "Silverware"?!

"Alright, it wasn't silver. It was Kimball cutlery. Cutlery at first, and then it escalated. A group of belligerent Bio majors started horning in on our racket. Maybe you heard about this on the Kimball menu last week? 'Dining Services would like to ask YOU for your help'? 'If you have any dishes, glassware, or silverware [sic] from the Dining Hall, could you Please bring them back'? That's how they capitalized it, too. Those amateurs couldn't write a WANTED poster if their lives depended on it. We've got Kimball begging on its knees, between the two of us gangs."

Apparently the cutlery hadn't been enough. The Bio gang started to steal plates and "glassware" (or "glasses," as we call them). Joey's ragtag assemblage of Loyola ne'er-do-wells had to scramble to keep up, concealing dishes in their trousers and glasses under the tops of their fedoras.

I asked my companion why he and his friends had wanted to steal forks and knives and plates in the first place, and he simply gave me one of those "you'll-never-understand" looks.

An all-out gang war was declared last week when, in an attempt to silence the do-gooder media on campus, the would-be scientists blew the Crusader office, heisting two Macintoshes which they plan to use for illegal lotteries, online racetrack betting, complex chemical reaction equations, etc. This action brought the full minivan-driving wrath of The Fuzz upon the rival gangs and increased the antagonism between them.

"I can't be too careful now," Joey said. "Those guys can be tough, especially that Luigi 'The Lab Rat' Cucchiari -- the leader of the whole gang. They've declared themselves the kings of cutlery everywhere west of Fenwick, including the science complex as well as Beaven and Stein. I haven't been to class in a week - I've been paying a newsie 75¢ a day to go and take my notes for me. In the meantime, my boys and me are the plates, glasses, and knives connection on the East Side of campus, but I hear that Lab Rat Lou is trying to gain a foothold in Healy."

Joey took me to his top-secret hideout in the basement of Loyola, making me promise never to divulge its location. His gang was lazing about in pinstriped suits, watching a rerun of "The Untouchables." They were all there: Benny "Bandwagon" Malone, the most vocal Yankee fan on campus; Sammy "Inappropriate" Stanikowski, a frequent Daily Jolt contributor; Carlos "Sweater by" J. Cruz; "Scarface" Gary Carskaddan; and their "inside man," Sis.

They told me of their plan to infiltrate the "Sci-Li" and squirt a deadly hail of guava juice upon the unprepared Luigi and his new bodyguard, a green figure known only as "Kid Chlorophyll." This plan eventually had to be scrapped because none of them could figure out the floor plans of Swords, and the phrase "double-helix staircase" frightened Joey.

Just then, the R.A. burst into the room, forcing a flurry of activity as the various shady characters rushed to throw sheets over contraband Kimball dishes and glasses. At first they were afraid of a room inspection; it turned out, however, to be only a check for alcohol. The Law moved on and the gang returned to its plotting.

There appears no end in sight to the gang violence here at the Cross. H.C.P.S. and the Resident Assistant staff seem unable to prevent the larcenies of computers or the apparently-widespread Kimball theft problem. But at least they're doing a good job on one thing -- nobody's taken our clock tower yet.

This article ran in the 27 October 2000 edition of The Crusader, on page 12 (second page of Features), below the title "Comments on the Passing Parade."