Our economy is in crisis. Five hundred people a day are dying in Darfur. And closer to home, many of us face a lifetime of debt.

So, faced with these mounting challenges, our elected officials in Congress have decided to… play baseball.

If you have been near a television in the past week, you surely witnessed footage of our brave Congressmen interrogating Roger Clemens, famed pitcher-turned-steroids scapegoat (giving a new meaning to “small ball“), and his trainer-turned-whistle-blower, Brian McNamee. Allegedly, Clemens lied to Congressman George Mitchell when he was compiling his 400-page report on steroid use in baseball.

Here’s Congressman Dan Burton (a “family values” conservative who ironically is also known for his kinky affairs and “skirt-chasing“) grill McNamee. (Notice his blingin’ ring.)

Okay, so tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. I always saw the holiday as an opportunity for women to bitch at men for not knowing what they really like (what girl wouldn’t love the DVD box set of “24″?). Where did this wretched holiday originate?

With the Christians. The name, obviously, comes from a guy named St. Valentine. The problem, however, is that the Catholic Church has records of three Christian martyrs named Valentine. Conveniently, according to legend, they all happened to die on February 14th. The more widely-adopted explanation for the mid-February date is that the Church wanted to overshadow the pagan holiday of Lupercalla.

This is a true shame, because Lupercalla was pretty much the shit. After a goat was sacrificed, the boys of the ‘hood would cut it into strips, marinate them with blood, and then run around the neighborhood, slapping women with the pieces of goat flesh. Unlike unappreciative modern women, the Roman ladies wanted nothing more than to be struck by a former goat thigh, as it made them more fertile for the upcoming year.

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A new mental disorder has surfaced, which now alters the state of mind of a healthy, well-rounded Penn student, to that of a well-oiled political machine. If you think you or a loved one may be suffering from this infectious disorder, please consult the following symptoms:

1) Instead of flirting with 19 and 20 year old ripe hotties at various fraternity parties, you choose to spend your Saturday evening charming middle-aged women in California who are leaning towards Hillary.

2) During a cab ride to Center City, you haggle with the driver over his choice for President. Typically, this will end with you informing the disappointed cabbie that Barack Obama is not actually a Muslim.

3) The highlight of your day is when a Penn Dining employee notices your campaign gear and gives you a high-five. Extra points if she calls you “sugah” and calls over her friends to admire your new threads.

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In the last few decades, judging people by the color of their skin or by their ownership of a uterus has become socially taboo and practically inefficient. However, stereotypes live on. In the first few weeks of class, it is important to identify the good study partners, infrequent bathers, and obnoxious question-answerers. I’ve found that the best way to judge people is based on the drinks that they bring to class. Here is the message you are broadcasting when you sip your favorite beverage whilst taking notes:

Honest Tea: I’m changing the world, one crappy-tasting tea at a time. Most likely a humanities major, I know all the ingredients of my beverage and I can tell you exactly which hill of the Himalayas they were tenderly gathered from.

Starbucks latte: I was actually wide awake this morning, but I will lose all indie street cred without my most important accessory. Sure, I spent twelve dollars on this mostly-whip-cream coffee, but it’s worth it if the cute mandolin/oboe/accordion/bongo player in my Existentialism class notices me.

Gatorade/gallon of water from Wawa: If you can’t tell that I’m an athlete by my Penn Athletics jumpsuit, backpack, stoic demeanor, protruding biceps, or unintelligible comments, just check out this gallon of water! Sure, the season ended three months ago, but with every sip, I can relive the glory days: Week 4 against Dartmouth!

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Bush’s brain. Boy genius. The Architect. Turd Blossom.

Call him what you want, but there’s no denying that Karl Rove is one of the most brilliant and sought-after speakers in the world. An overwhelming sense of merriment was palpable on Penn’s campus on Monday, when SPEC officially announced that the former Deputy Chief of Staff to President George W. Bush would be the spring keynote speaker.

Many Penn students acknowledged the value of a Rove address on a SPEC online survey. SPEC Connaissance co-director Elana Wilf said there was great student interest in a speaker who is “controversial and political.” Ms. Wilf and her colleagues rightfully translated this to mean “Karl Rove.”

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[Movie trailer voice] Coming this November…

Two candidates. Two heroes.

In a world of uncertainty, bloodshed, and UberIslamoFascism. Only one hero and one presidential candidate can survive. [/Movie trailer voice]

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As an international student from Alabama, the transition to PennLife (soon to be copyrighted by the University) was a tricky one. However, the toughest adjustment was neither the cold weather nor the lack of camouflage pick-up trucks. Nope, not even in-door plumbing.

The true uncharted territory was recycling.

As the 48th greenest state in the nation, ‘Bama is not exactly known for it’s environmental awareness. In short, we don’t have recycling bins. For us, it is one of those inconvenient practices suggested by elementary and junior high school teachers but generally ignored by students. You know, like avoiding fast food or abstaining from sex.

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In late October, I cheated on my political crush.

Since hearing his speech at the 2004 Democratic National Convention, I’ve had a crush on Obama (see below). I was the first person in my small Alabama town to put an Obama ‘08 sticker on my car (and have the key marks to show for it). But, on October 30th, before the Democratic debate at Drexel, I betrayed Barack’s trust and campaigned for Hillary Clinton.

It happened for the same reason that many affairs do. Convenience.

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