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PACE 6 FEATURES THE Hill. NEWS, March 4,2005 LAST-MINUTE CONCERNS Dan Leonidas Columnist . Walking to Richardson from the senior townhouses one morn- ing last week, the lonely and—I'll try to put this delicately—pa- theticvolleyball net between Whitman and Rebert caught my eye and got me thinking. Now, I consider, thinking an exceedingly unpleasant activity, and.I try to avoid it whenever I can. But I'm glad I thought the other day, because—as happens sometimes—- it gave me a lame idea, and lame ideas make decent material for poorly written, inane columns. What could that lone and pathetic volleyball net have gotten me thinking about, you ask? No, not the meaninglessness of life and the ultimate futility of all our desperate attempts to find some semblance of happiness. Believe it or not, that net got me think- ing about—of all things—volleyball. See, I have a long, sordid history with the sport. And, unfortunately for the reader, I now intend to recount that long, sordid history in painfully boring de- tail. My first memories of volleyball are from high school. My gym teacher had a passion for the game and when the volleyball unit rolled around each year, he made it clear that he would accept only professional-level performance from his students. He once confided in me that:—and yes, I'm making this up—he believed anything less would lead directly to the worldwide collapse of de- mocracy. . - , • . In particular, my gym teacher was infatuated with a technique that volleyball aficionados (whom I would refer to from this point forward—if I planned to mention them again—as \v>ballers\) call' \'bumping.\ All I know about bumping is that, like most thirfgs in volleyball, it involves hitting the ball over the net. I should prob- ably know' more, because my gym teacher spent countless class periods painstakingly teaching my classmates and me about it, but neither I nor anybody else paid attention to him. When we played, we hit the ball back and forth over the net any way we pleased, whether that was slapping it with an open palm or punching it. The gym teacher wanted us to revere the bail and treat it as an extension, of ourselves, but we treated.it like it was a nerd, giving it the beating of its life.day after day. Appalled by this travesty, my gym teacher felt compelled to walk around the volleyball court, letting us know the error of our ways. \No!\ he'd scream as someone slapped the ball over the net with a cracking smack. Tendons and veins bulged and throbbed in his neck, and specks of spittle flew forth from his mouth in a fine spray. \Bump the ball! Have you learned nothing?\ One might think that my gym class experiences would have caused me to hate volleyball—but one would be wrong. Why? Because I spent several summers working as a lifeguard at a public beach equipped with a volleyball net. Those summers gave me faith in the game. The volleyball net at my beach was much grander, much more elegant—possibly even much more regal—than-the sickeningly pitiful specimen between Whitman and Rebert (the mere sight of which never fails to make me violently ill). I played hundreds— nay, thousands!-^-of games of volleyball on both sides of that great net. And though whatever team I happened to be on almost al- ways lost when the other team was made up of lifeguards, I had a pretty decent record when the other team consisted of children. That's right—my peers might have found my skills on the court laughable, but little kids couldn't handle them. Indeed, I would often single-handedly take on a team of four or five 10-year-olds and still manage to shut them out. I'll never forget the joy I got put of spiking the ball into their innocent, terrified little faces, then taunting them until they ran off crying to their parents. I knew I had done my job when those parents looked at me with a disgusted twinkle in their eyes, shaking their heads. Am I proud of my behavior? No, I'm not. But at least I can say it wasn't as despicable as the volleyball net between Whitman and Rebert, which I seem to hate for no rational reason. 10 pm UvujHfardi Winston Room Midnight @ upm IDLE RAMBLINGS Chris Morris Managing Editor \As fair the blocked website, the university has initiated a lawsuit against the operators, although the school does not know who they are.\ - Amy Ohler, News Ten Now No kidding? Has the Ameri- can legal system finally taken the appropriate steps as to al- low one person or a group of people to file suit against an unknown opponent? This is quite fascinating, but also somewhat difficult to under- stand, so I have brought in my legal expert, Michael B. Kane, to clarify how this system works; \I'm a good.American..I like to bow hunt, watch NASCAR, and drink expensive beer. Like Natural Ice.\ Thank you, Michael. Some of you might wonder how all this would look in a court of law. I can't draw you a picture, but I can attempt to break down for you what the actual proceed- ings might be like: High Powered Lawyer Who's Bill Will Have to.be Paid with Tuition Money, as the Rest of our Funds are Currently Tiedrup in Creating Blueprints fpr the \Dean Petty Dance Hall\ (To sim- plify things, I will refer to him .a-' ' __s. Yes-Is it not true that you stole a picture of an Adirondack Chair from the St. Lawrence University web page? Silence » Have the courage to speak you son-of-a - invisible Defense Attorney: Objection! Judge: Sust - who said that? Invisible Defense Attorney: I did! Judge: Where? ffli\BMlrimfflKIr?aiJMHH I think I heard his voice over there somewhere. Judge: Please continue. FHWWBEftVm«lRrE»C3IHTEHH Isn't it also true that - I'm sorry, I can't do this. This is so demeaning...I mean there's no- body on the stand! Three large men dressed in black, apparently hired by St. Lawrence University, move men- acingly in direction. iVji :«o. n iHi:ai»!i: ;<K,»> I;JI:I Fine! Fine. Ill continue... I think you get the idea. The deliberations- could take months, even years; It may be necessary to double tuition, but it will be in the \best in- terest\ of the St. Lawrence coinmiinity. Trust nte. I haven't touched upon sports recently, so I will end this column with two predic- tions. First, I still firmly be- lieve that my wonderful girl- friend, Jamie Dyer, has some- how triggered an ability within me to accurately predict long- term outcomes, so let's con- sider this as the NBA season nears crunch, time: San Anto- nio beats Detroit in seven games to win the Champion^ ship. That was painless enough, but here's where things get dicey: Kentucky will win it all this year, I will, be ridiculed for allying myself with the Wildcats, but at least I got the guts to say it in print. Have fun at Snow Bowl, I know I will. Movie Review: Breakfast With Hunter Chad Burbank Staff Writer Lira IN i nifciL ®J 3panMRdbjrA.CE This week, in honor of the death of Hunter S. Th- ompson, I thought it would be proper to review a re- lated piece of work. I'm sure that many of you have already seen the movie based on his book \Fear and Loathing in Las Ve- gas,\ or perhaps have heard of the upcoming film based on Thompson's sole novel, \The Rum Diary.\ However, I thought it would be far more enter- taining to review the only documentary on the man. Breakfast with Hunter is a documentary based en- tirely on compilations of • film taken over 8 years by Wayne Ewing. The pri- mary focus is between three events; the 25 th anni- versary celebration of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, his struggles in adapting it to film, and attempts at avoiding jail time for a DUI arrest. Ewing certainly succeeds at getting a fee! for the daily per- B'43? t&s Ticket., 'I'AJW t.hft Uid« •in lu.,iK it n. . sonality of Hunter S., but he copS) to his grilling of a poten- seems to miss some of the more tial director for the suggested erratic, and less lawful, behav- use 0 f cartoons, ior that he is famous for. He fre- Throughout the movie, Hunter is given the oppor- tunity to review the very film that was just taken, giving a unique opportu- nity of reaction by the sub- ject of the movie as it progresses, Unfortunately, I believe that more often than not in the movie, Thompson is trapped within his own leg- end of eccentricity. The few times he demonstrates his unusual behavior in this move make him seem more of an annoyance than any- thing, and fail to do him justice. Love him or hate him, Dr. Hunter S. Thompson was a master of words, and one who would not; be ig- nored, and will never be quently skips around in his film, forgotten, and fails to create a solid Breakfast with Hunter is \timeline of events. However, Th- ..available online at bmpson does not fail to entertain www.BreakfastwithHvmter.com through with fight with local for $29.95 plus shipping. BECOME A MEMBER OF SLITS NATIONAL LEADERSHIP. APPLY TO: The National Leadership Honor Society March 1- applications available on the SLU ODK Web site. Applicants must be in the top third of their class to apply. Applications will also be available on the Student Center Information desk, March 10 - applications due at noon in Student Center room 238, Office of the Associate Dean for Student Life April 23 - Moving Up Day and ODK Tapping Questions contact: Ed Sirlin. President; Kerry 0*Keefe, Vice President; Kate Lane, Treasurer; and Erin Uoyd, Secretary
