The Firing Squad

From The staff, present and past …


When I heard that The Wailers were coming to campus as the headliner for Dillo Day, all I could think was “what the heck?” I know my music knowledge is limited, but I literally had no clue who this group was until I heard the name Bob Marley.

Now that I know who this group is, I’m still thinking “what the heck?” With all the attempts administrators are making to promote a “safe” Dillo Day, perhaps they should begin by encouraging those in charge of Mayfest to pick some good bands that the majority of students will appreciate. More time on the Lakefill means less time drinking or getting high in your room.

— Annette Majerowicz


It’s a good thing there’s justice in the world.

Alison Baenen got off scot-free after being charged in the theft of 41 cents worth of bulk candy from our local White Hen Pantry on the 800 block of Emerson Street.

Well, almost scot-free: She’s never allowed in the fine establishment again! Serves you right, Baenen. Never mind that you offered to pay for the candy. Smokey, this isn’t Nam. This is White Hen. There are rules.

And so maybe your misdemeanor charges were dropped, but your privileges have been revoked. If you need Red Bull at 2 a.m. at any point during your last four weeks at Northwestern, you’d better hope you have a car. Because your sorry ass is going to Walgreens.

God bless the American judicial system.

— Adam Williams


As a resident of Allison Hall last year, I have spent some time in the showers there. I can’t forget the warm water turning suddenly cold, the hairballs from who knows what or whom adorning the lovely mold-infested tiles and the razors left behind so I can cut myself accidently and contract tetanus.

But when a creepy man opened the curtain on a resident taking a shower in the dorm Monday morning, the problems with dorm showers were taken to a new level. Warning to all creepos out there: Stay the hell out of the bathrooms in any dorm. Can’t you see we have enough to deal with when taking a shower?

I hope any other shower intruder leaves with a bad case of the chills and fungus.

— Sheila Burt


With the exception of some fervent prayers before exams, I’m not exactly a spiritual girl. All the more ironic, then, that I live on the corner of Lake Street and Chicago Avenue — right in the middle of Evanston’s unofficial church district. Being almost completely surrounded by these holy houses hasn’t diminished the amount of sin that occurs within my apartment — my roommates and I still have weekly Pagan sacrifices — but the churches are nonetheless great to look at. Why? The sermons advertised on the signboards outside, which range from amusing to bizarre.

The Lake Street Church has the best offerings — and by best I mean weirdest. A month or so ago, the sermon was, “Many Confuse Jesus and the Lone Ranger.” And then there was Easter, when the sign read, “Every Tomb is a Womb,” which was followed the next week with, “Jesus is Risen — Now What?” And, my personal favorite, “Earth Day Reminds Us: Spirituality is Erotic.”

My response usually alternates between “Whaa?” and “Huh?” And yes, these are the actual words, verbatim, that appeared on the signs — believe me, you don’t forget seeing the word “erotic” on a sign designed to make you attend church. I suppose the goal is to attract new parishioners, but it doesn’t really work on me. The un-Christian like behavior I engage in on most Saturday nights prohibits me from being able to function, let alone attend services, on Sunday mornings — but I’ll continue to appreciate their efforts. And I’ll never again confuse Jesus and the Lone Ranger.

— Jessica Mayle