Last week was a rough week. There were fights with landladies, disobedient cats and hyper-intense, quasi-religious lectures on TS Eliot that triggered several existential crises within an hour. I’m only three weeks into my honours degree and I am beginning to realise that it’s probably not a joke. At least, if it is a joke, it’s quite a long complicated one, with several punch lines and a twist at the end. Unlike undergrad, which is at best a knock-knock joke: at least, it is when you’re a BA kid. What’s the difference between a BA student and a pizza, after all?

Nevertheless, in the middle of what soon became the kind of week that ends in a lot of swearing and a massive hangover, there was one tiny moment of calm. A friend and I sat on the floor of my room and ate Zoo cookies, while a storm raged outside (do you see what Shakespeare is doing to me? I’m starting to see nature as a mirror of my psychological state of mins. Eish)

Anyway, I don’t want to turn Zoo cookies into some great metaphor for enjoying the small things in life, for finding pleasure in humble, everyday things like baked goods, but I am left with no choice. Zoo cookies just inspire happiness. No one, no matter how bad their day was, can eat a Zoo cookie and not instantly revert to the mentality of a small child without a care in the world.

Zoo cookies are the answer to all questions. Fail an exam? Break up with your boyfriend? Get kicked out of your flat because your roommate was secretly cooking meth? Suddenly realise that the universe has no meaning and life has no point? Eat a Zoo cookie and none of that seems to matter anymore. Of course, much like the Oreo, there is a proper procedure involved when eating a Zoo cookie. If you don’t eat it properly, it won’t work and your life will continue to be empty, meaningless and lonely, the dark abyss just meters away (excuse the dramatic turn of phrases, I’ve been reading literature and that is an unavoidable side-effect).

Anyway, back to reality. We have a great edition for you guys this week. There were rumours of a naked guy on campus, who is still avoiding all my attempts to get hold of him. If you’re out there, please make contact. I promise I won’t call the cops. I just want to know what it is that makes you feel the need to expose yourself to strangers. There were two streakers at last week’s Varsity Cup game (one of which might very well be the very same naked dude terrorising campus) as well, so nudity seemed to be a theme of the week. You can see photos of these charming gentlemen on page 11.

There are other articles I urge you to read: our debate page on racism on campus, my own article on date rape drugs as well as our interview with Desmond and the Tutus. Enjoy.

Stranger danger is not a myth, kids.

Beyers

PS Tweet me things @Perdebyeditor. I would love to hear from you.

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