THE VOICEBOX Vol 45 Issue 24

Look for the Voicebox on Tuesday afternoons in the Birch cafeteria, to anonymously “voice” your “opinion” on any “topic.” Introverted alternatives include emailing your opinion to, or texting (778) 886-5070.

“How does someone write an entire article on the Zelda Symphony Concert and not once mention the original composer, Koji Kando?”

Hi, Koji, thanks for writing in. I found this question quite interesting for two reasons. First of all, you write in, and don’t even mention the composer’s name yourself. Believe me, I just spent six minutes Googling various endless combinations of “Zelda”, “composer”, “Music”, “symphony”, and the only thing that turned up was your letter! Weird, right, since it hasn’t even been published yet?! Anyway, more interesting is the fact that you assume I know which “Zelda Symphony Concert” article you are talking about, leaving me to think you’re a bit hypocritical not citing which specific article you’re dissing while simultaneously calling us out for doing the same thing. Nice try, Koji.

“Is it true that Australia is extremely racist?”

From what I hear, yes. But, I heard that from a Nonstralian, so it could potentially be blamed on them being AA (Anti-Australian). There’s actually a good rule in determining if anything/anyone is "extremely racist": If you have to ask, yes.

“Fun Fact: The music video for Sisqo’s 'Thong Song’, gave me one of my first and most uncomfortable erections. This was before I discovered masturbating.”

Wow. That’s a good share. I had a friend in elementary school, Timmy, who lived near this weird tunnel that had a stowaway of old Playboy magazines which he stashed away there. Except, just to "fool" adults like our parents, anytime we spoke about these pornos in public, we would call them “peebs”, as if we were really hiding anything. Hilariously stupid. He told me I could take one home, and I did. I don’t think I really understood what masturbation was. I went to a Catholic school! They didn’t teach us that kind of shit. Anyway, my friend demanded I take this magazine home. Little did he know I was a FH (future homosexual), and I  ended up trading the Playboy to one of my other friends for TLC’s Crazy Sexy Cool. My dad also tried to get me on to women by buying me the Drew Barrymore Playboy for my birthday one year – how mortifying. A few weeks later, he came home and asked me what I “thought of” the magazine. “Well, dad,” I told him, “I really enjoyed the interview with Jean-Claude Van Damme.” I was 11.

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