The following is a Geography major's attempt at satire …

After a tumultuous fall in which their future was thrown into doubt, the Geography and Communication Studies departments made the historic decision to quit Macalester last Thursday. Shortly before two p.m., the department chairs signed a treaty of mutual defense, and soon thereafter, they gave the order to weigh anchor. The departments sailed off in an easterly direction along Grand Avenue. Upon hearing of the departure, the Macalester administration immediately sent its elite Academic Task Force under Commodore Lin Aanonsen in pursuit. Battle was joined in the vicinity of Victoria Crossing. Despite the Task Force's persistent attempts to bury the smaller vessels under mounds of weighty paperwork, the rebels had the best of the engagement. Their victory was guaranteed when, while it hid behind a J. Crew outlet, the Communications Department loosed a broadside into the Task Force at point blank range.

Two days later, facing the reality that the college is helpless without the bewildering defenses constructed by this committee, President Michael McPherson sent a delegation of deans to the Economics Department, where they offered the college's unconditional surrender to its creditors—a small, local bank known as Wells-Fargo. Said an anonymous trustee, "I really don't see how we could save any more money than we already are. I mean, what's more important to a liberal arts education than maintaining a varsity athletic team that promotes dialogue with far off, otherworldly colleges like Lewis and Clark? How could we invest our endowment more responsibly than in a widely read, cool publication like Reader's Digest? Gee, this situation is so stressful, I wish I could get out here and go someplace like, say, Chicago." Despite the campaign by local guerillas uniting around the peculiar cause of "Stopping Campus Sprawl," it appears that Summit Avenue rivals St. Thomas are negotiating with the highly independent folks at Wells-Fargo to absorb the Mac campus.

Macalester budget woes can be traced to an obscure policy known as the Blind-Need Policy. Under this practice, the college bursar was compelled to hand out as much money as students might request at the beginning of the semester. "We knew it would cost us a lot of green," said an aide in the Admissions Office. "But seriously—it's not like we were buying out full-page ads in the New York Times or anything."

As financial difficulties mounted, the college was forced to suspend funding for various projects: one casualty was the "artwork" now standing outside Kagin Commons. The columns now adorning the plaza were originally designed to support something, though when money ran out, the sculptors subsequently adapted them into post-modern comment. To ward off further cuts, McPherson was ultimately forced to assemble the Academic Task Force. This committee, composed of such Macalester intellectual heavyweights as education czar Dan Hornbach, queen of deans Laurie Hamre, and, of course, B.I.O. C.E.O. Aanonsen, recommended that the college contract various departments, including Geography and Communication Studies.

With time running out, Geography and Communication Studies professors, staff, and majors quickly concluded that they could only survive if they combined their splendid sense of direction and gilded tongues. Thus it was that both departments were observed sailing across the campus green before a stiff breeze last Thursday afternoon.

Both sides suffered many casualties during their engagement. The Geography Department's academic crew has been whittled down to a mere two tenure or tenure-track professors. Task Force Commodore Aanonsen was observed bobbing away from her sinking ship on a patch of watercress.

Macalester officials tried desperately to recover from the disaster, but they have been unable to prevent the imminent annexation by St. Thomas. According to a senior administrator, the college nearly secured an emergency grant from the Wallace and Dayton families. However, when these would-be benefactors were informed by the college that there no longer remain any buildings on campus that have not already been named for them, they withdrew their donation.

As for the Geography and Communication Studies crews, they seem to have an optimistic outlook on the future. "Who needs that silly plaid, anyway?" asked a bright-eyed crewer aboard the Geography skiff, Lion of Tajikistan. "I've always wanted to sail down the Mississippi. And what about Tahiti? We haven't got any problems that a little sunshine and peyote won't fix."