DISCLAIMER: Stories and images published in this week’s issue under satire (with the exception of advertisements) are purely satirical and created for entertainment and/or parody purposes. They are not intended to communicate any accurate or factual information.
Dear esteemed readers: I am a historian who goes by many names, and verily require no introduction, but perhaps you might know me as the recent recipient of the Global Leader in Historicities Award, bestowed upon be by none other than the prestigious, internationally-renowned, UHH (Umpire of History and Herstory). I have travelled worlds, traversed timelines, uncovered secrets kept hidden for millennia, illuminated shadows buried under the grand rubble of humanity’s story. It is safe to say — and I say this with utmost humility — there is no historian greater than I. And so it is with great pleasure that I bring to you the latest findings of my extraordinary work.
My research was commissioned by UHH’s subcouncil, Humanity’s University Histories (HUH), through a generous fund by our respected donors. Though I myself have received about 67 thousand dollars as a stipend, I consider this case a pro bono, as I gave all the money away to my charitable secondary bank account overseas. And please: feel not obliged to offer me any thanks; I do this work for the love of the game. I also have a Patreon.
And now I present to you, dear reader, my work of great intellectual scrutiny, historical accuracy, and general marvellosity, eloquently titled: York University’s History (YUH). Interested readers with a penchant for brevity will also enjoy my companion piece, Briefly Recounting University’s History (BRUH). Orders are available as a bundled hardcover set only.
Verily, we can begin our introduction to YUH by venturing to none other than the veritable Vari Hall, a venue of a vast (and sometimes vexing) verisimilitude of verbiage, where the venerable and the verbose converge in a vortex of well-versed vernacular. Truly, it must be a very, very special place in all your hearts, no doubt. Indeed. Veritably. Constructed in 1992, this vernal three-story building can be seen as the crown jewel of your Keele campus, a hub of learning, peace, and getting-along, where students enjoy holding protests, rallies, and the occasional cross-cultural kerfuffle. My verdict? A very merry Vari Hall indeed.
Alas, let us take a brief interlude northward, where we find ourselves at Winters College, famously built in the Summer of ‘67. Thanks to my expertise in meteorology, my research has confirmed that it is actually this building from which the winter season throughout the world is established. Indeed, in 1966, despite operating on a three-season system for the history of humanity, a fourth season was added as a result of extensive lobbying via the Four Seasons Hotel. And so, this building was constructed, the slogan being: Winter is Coming. My vast mastery in the literaturical arts has also led me to believe this slogan was later plagiarized by popular fantasy series Game of Chairs, but more research is required before my theory can be verified. This humble veteran advises that you not frequent this building too often, as you will find it heavily guarded by officers who call themselves the Night’s Watch. Indeed, many three-season dissenters have often tried to raid this building in hopes of shutting down winter and returning to the glory days before the advent of snow, and snowmen, and snowwomen, and snowfolks, etc. But I say it is rather time we accept the world for what it is and move on. Regimes change all the time — haven’t you been watching the news? Welcome to the new world order. I personally am fond of the opportunity to watch the peasants hurl snow spheres at each other. Winter is here, I say!
Now, if I may bring your attention down south back to Vari Hall, you might observe that, to the immediate west, lie the connected structures Ross Building, Curtis Lecture Halls, and Scott Library. For a man of my scholarly calibre, uncovering the histories of these great temples of time was but child’s play.
Ross, you see, was an unfortunate typo in the system, as its true name was in fact, Moss Building, evident by the vast growth of moss lining its walls throughout the year. It is not so different from that sorry mishap with Stong College, which everyone — even the red squiggly lines in this word processor — knows was supposed to be Strong College. Alas, my friends, these things happen in history. Not everyone doth have a keen eye for detail such as mine.
As for Curtis Lecture Halls… this one is a bit trickier. You have heard of the CIA, I presume? And you are also familiar with the fact that the letter l, for, say, loquaciousness, and the uppercase letter I, for, say, I’mTheBestHistorianAliveAndDead, are both similar in similitude? And now, the final piece of the puzzle: what letter arises from the ashes when you take the two legs of H and have their top points meet, thus forming an inverted V? Think about it. An inverted V with a horizontal line in the middle. I hope it is clear to you by now. CLH = CIA. Indeed, frequenters of this building will see very clearly how this is a headquarters of that top-secret institution, based on the cryptic and maze-like lettering system of its rooms and the random Booster Juice shop which is totally not a front for other, more covert operations (have you ever seen the Booster Juice lady and the director of the CIA in the same room?).
And finally, Scott Library. Well, this is simply the library of Scott. Fine old chap, that one. He made me these amazing zucchini sandwich things the other day. Honourable friends, let me tell you — they were to die for.
Now if you step outside, just past the doors near the CIA headquarters, you will find yourself confronted by a great strip of land known as the campus walk. Clearly this was named after Sir Campus Walk himself, known for his great love of wandering.
On this strip of land, I was most impressed, let me tell you, by the capacity for unionization of the squirrels. One is immediately struck with a sense of great competence and organization in their nut-collecting endeavours, and this humble scholar believes the geese have much to learn in that regard. I have been advised to not comment further on the geese due to an ongoing investigation regarding a violent incident between me and a vicious, well, an allegedly vicious gang leader. Oh, my apologies. “Gaggle leader” is the politically correct term.
If I may, I would like to skip the Farquharson Life Sciences building and travel farther westward to far more interesting establishments. Surely you all know the tale of Lord Farquaad and the green beast and whatnot — you will find it was all an allegory for this building. Your verdant campus greenhouse is indeed connected to this building, and as for Lord Farquaad, well, he goes by many names these days. Some rumours have pointed to a certain Lord Tsushima, but this is beyond the scope of my research.
Now, as a patron of the sciences, I would be remiss if I were to not devote some of my precious neurological energy to the three buildings lining the great strip of Sir Campus: Lassonde Building, Steacie Science & Engineering Library, and Petrie Science and Engineering. Let me be the first to confess it was not so easy to uncover their histories. After extensive analysis, for instance, I was able to discover that Lassonde is a compound word formed from lasso (the rope), and NDE (near-death experience). This is in obvious reference to the lassoing of the many students who enter into engineering, where they all experience the near-death experience of trying to graduate with their sanity intact.
As for the Steacie Science & Engineering Library, many experts have long wondered what exactly this really is. Is it a monastery for studying, a hub for puzzles, or just another excuse for students to use free computers? Well, it turns out there is something far more sinister lurking in the shadows. Just think about it. Think. About. It. Steacie. Stea-cie. Stay, see. Stay, and see what it is all about. This building is designed to trap and lure you to stay and see what exactly is being concocted in the dark corridors of the basement. Stay and see the science of engineering your mind, and adding you to the library of lost souls. No thank you. I would recommend serious scholars of science to stay away.
As for Petrie, it turns out this building is actually entirely useless and nonfunctional in nature, serving only as a tunnel to connect to the great Chemistry Building. Pronounced chuh-miss-trai (etymology unknown), this colourless building is home to many occult practices, and the occasional MATH 1506 lecture in its dingy basement. Patrons of the dark arts will thrive here.
Honourable scholars, it is with great regret that I will have to cut my tour here short, lest I spoil all the gems of my new, remarkable, and extraordinary work. To purchase YUH BRUH (bundle only), please visit WWW.UHH-HUH-YUH-BRUH.UMM. I look forward to my next masterpiece. Thank you, me. Oh, it’s my pleasure. Oh, the pleasure is all mine. Oh, you flatter me! See you next time. Not if I see you first! Nerd says what. What? Gotcha bruh. Bruh.
