Vote for a new spring semester columnist

Ah, voting. In no other country does this act of choosing a side, tallying the lots and publishing the victor bring so much joy and enthusiasm. Voting is democratic, it's dramatic, and most of all, it's American.

We'd like to believe that votes are won on merit alone, but a little persuasion never hurts. If you give a mouse a cookie, he'll probably leave crumbs on the ballot while marking off your name.

What metaphorical cookie can I offer? Not just a speed bump to peruse en route to the crossword, I'll involve you in weekly demonstrations along a single hypothesis: that the universe is made not of quarks but of quirks. From the things we buy and buy into to the things we eat and what eats at us, all the small quirks that make life interesting will be under observation.

So, while I cannot promise world peace or sex advice on Tuesday, I can at least offer a quirky view of the world— and maybe a column about cookies along the way.

You have no idea how much I need you to vote for me.

When the day comes that I am sitting across the expanse of my prospective boss's mahogany altar in the cheapest Men's Warehouse suit my money can buy, I'll need more than my grades. What did I do when I was not in class or doing work related to it? What type of man was I?

To this point, sadly, my memory reveals only a hazy portrait of myself drowning in a pool of crushed Keystone Light cans, escaping my intellectually taxing "profession" with a mixture of daytime television (Maury is God), psychedelic drugs and a lot of booze. A lot of booze.

Besides that, my wife and kids are pissed. I realize that I need to take a stand—not only against the free-time wasteland that has characterized my eight-year stay at Cal, but also in defense of the concepts of moderation and common sense that seem sadly to be fading from the world like the OxyContin I swallowed eight hours ago.

From the UCPD officers who allow the person who torched their van to run free, but impose $100 fines for riding bicycles on Sproul—to the massive group psychosis that characterizes people who actually think La Burrita is decent Mexican food, one can see that this town is going Bezerkeley. So vote for Ben: If not for me or common sense, do it for my kids.

Come, Berkeleyans, let me take you aside, sit down, have a drink, and lets go for a ride, I've got just the thing for that hole deep inside, and it's a remedy that's better than most …

For I know a fellow who's a sensible host, quick with a quip and on time with a toast, a pundit for the times and true to his post, a man of mettle in his own right …

And only I, Berkeleyans, know the depth of your plight, abused by the boring and bored by the trite, put to sleep by writers who simply can't write! It's time for something new …

So what is that I'm asking from you? Let me speak for the many, let me herald the few! Only bullshit and banalities will I eschew. Trust me with your voice …

If you enjoy those with a flair for the dramatic, then I suspect you and I will do well together. If not, I will tone it down for the sake of balance. You have been given, in another fantastical demonstration of the democratic process, the chance to choose a columnist. What I'm offering you is sincerity, irreverent inquiry and perpetual entertainment.

It's become my routine to walk by that dirty blue newsstand, shake out the glossy fliers from the day's paper and head to class. I'm not ashamed to admit that I read this newspaper during lecture. Sorry, professors, sometimes reading about sex is preferable to organic chemistry.

I have a short attention span, so if the day's paper isn't in color, I skip the first few pages and open to the opinion columns. Sure, it's important to know the news, but a few adjectives make an otherwise bland story shine.

Now, I don't like campaigning, but I'll make an exception for myself. I know how precious those stolen moments with your Daily Cal are, so they shouldn't lack entertainment and substance. In my expert opinion, I am entertaining and substantial.

As a columnist I would deliver my ruminations in an engaging and sophisticated way—minus big words, because let's face it, I'm an MCB major and I don't know that many. Berkeley is full of opinions and mine are not the most flashy­—I'd just like to share some stories and be one of the voices that's heard. I promise to use plenty of adjectives: at least the ones four syllables or fewer.