Tuesday, April 26, 2005

They're trying to kill me...PART I

Here is another piece of my self-indulgent, ego-inflating, post-collegiate nonsense that No Reply Magazine most graciously published this week:

First they kill Jack, then Malcolm, then Martin, then Bobby, and now… they’re coming after the H-man.

EDITOR’S NOTE: Hari graduated from Bowdoin College in May of 2004, and has been living at home with his parents for the past 8 months. He has been heavily medicated, and his active imagination (read: delusions of grandeur) have led to some very memorable and frequent contributions to this magazine.

However, we feel it is important to clarify that we, No Reply Magazine, do not support, agree with, condone, or even understand the majority of his view points, takes on history and current events, and his very skewed idea of his place in Bowdoin lore.

This article was edited down from a document which was originally over 118 pages and 25,000 words. It was titled “They’re trying to kill me…PART I.”

Further editing was done to translate words Hari apparently felt at liberty to make up. (Words like "pencilliatory," "durganize," "vestangulate"…and so forth. These “words” sound like they could be real, but are actually just gibberish). We replaced these words with what we assumed were their English equivalents and what were most appropriate in the given context.

During my years at Bowdoin, I became somewhat of a legendary figure. I single-handedly ignited the rebirth (and to some historians…the REAL BIRTH) of the Bowdoin comedy scene. I was a civil rights activist, scholar, and a controversial social theorist who for years advocated the cloning of students of Color.

“It would guarantee a diverse campus for years to come. Hell, we could even stuff the clones and mount them in a museum.”

They all thought I was crazy.

“If we’re going to be on display during our time there for white people to look at, why not just go that extra step and keep us there forever?”

All this went to deaf ears.

But even with my controversial theories, I was considered god-like, especially, and ironically, to the God-less liberal savages that I considered brethren and sistren.

So when No Reply editor Sean Turley told me that this month's issue was about assassinations, I knew I had to chip in my two cents. A man of my status knows a thing or two about assassination attempts. As a former Bowdoin leader and a future, influential global figure, there have been many attempts on my life, from a wide variety of sources (both within and outside my sheltered collegiate bubble, and some which may be harder to believe than others.)

Time to expose you all to some ugly truths. Printed below is a list of all the times people have attempted to kill me:

(In the interests of time, space…and common decency…we will not print all of these “assassination attempts.” We have, however, listed some of the more interesting, or at least more coherent, ones below. Some, as you will see, had to be interpreted, and explained, and will be shown in italics.)


1) The Laugh Out Loud Conspiracy

People always ask me why I stopped creating episodes of the “Laugh Out Loud” television program. This highly successful late night variety program hosted by myself was the flagship show for the Bowdoin Cable Network. There were even rumours of a deal with a Portland Public Access station for late night syndication. Things were going great, so why did I pull the plug after only two episodes?

Why? Because they were coming to get me!

Shortly after creating “Ironic T-Shirt,” an all-freshmen sketch comedy troupe, for the purposes of creating humourous commercial parodies for my program, I noticed some tension between me and the group members. They started to become popular and get recognized on campus, but it was always as the group that stood out in the darkness cast by my massive shadow. Nick Von Keller was writing some decent stand-up bits, as well. But it was never “Hari” enough. (“Hari” was used as a synonym for “funny.”) Tony Handel wasn’t as pretty as I was. Adam Paltrineiri did not look as good in a tweed jacket as I did…and so on, and so forth. They were all jealous. They couldn’t wait to get me out of the picture.

I couldn’t perform peacefully. They served as the stage crew for my show, and so I was constantly worried that they were plotting to get me. Perhaps a grenade beneath my desk. Or a bullet in my back during the monologue. When the lights went out to air video clips, I was petrified.

Ultimately, they never got their “shot” because I pulled the plug on LOL before they pulled the plug on me. They never had the chance to kill me…but there were others who did.


43) The attempt in Moulton.

On one early December evening in 2003, I was having dinner with my friend Haliday Douglas in Moulton dining hall. I was almost done with my meal, when I decided to get another delicious peanut butter cookie. When I returned, I went to take a sip of water when I luckily noticed something very interesting…my water was fizzing! Hal, had clearly slipped something into my drink and was trying to assassinate me. As long as there was another popular minority on campus whose name started with the letter “H,” he could never have the nickname “The H-man.” Just “H-man 2,” or the “Friend of the H-man,” or “The H-man’s non-sexual ping pong buddy.” So, he tried to bump me off.

Douglas tried to cover up his failed attempt by claiming that I had not gotten water, but Sprite. He begged me to take a sip of it. A clever ploy!!

“Hmm….you’re right, Hal. This does indeed taste like lemon-lime goodness.”

“Well, that’s because it’s lemon-lime flavored rat poison! Die charlatan!”

Nice try, “Bob.”


134) Hari basically just summarized the plot to Weekend at Bernie’s, with himself playing the role of “Bernie.” He apparently was faking death the whole time to prevent being killed.


245) Charleston Chewed Out

In early 1992, I was a portly 5th grader with an addiction to sugar. My best friend was Jatin, a young man whose mother would put Twinkies, or candy bars in his bag lunch. I would instantly become best friends with him. One afternoon, Jatin pulled out a “Charleston Chew” bar. This was a candy bar I’d heard about for years, but never experienced for myself. He offered me half, probably knowing I would ask for half eventually, and I started to eat it. Unlike other candy bars, which I basically swallowed, this bar was mostly nougat and therefore, had to be carefully chewed with the enzymes in my saliva having to get much of the work done. I did not realize this fact, and a morsel got caught in my throat.

Years later I figured out what was going on. My "best friend" was really a government agent placed in my elementary school to take me out. Whether he was sent back in time through a time machine, or whether the government was trying to get rid of a problem before it developed is uncertain. What I do know is that my survival was purely due to luck.

As I choked to death in front of all those innocent children, Jatin attempted to break my ribs with several violent jabs to the chest. (I suppose he wanted to make sure there was no chance of survival.) The jabs, however, proved counterproductive as they jarred the assassin’s nougat free from my throat, allowing oxygen to re-enter my body.

Jatin would later attempt to convince me that the punches to my chest were his attempt to save my life because he did not know the Heimleich maneuver. Poor bastard is still brainwashed by the government after all these years. He’s really as much of a victim in this tale as I am.


578) This particular “attempt” was written in the obscure, and absolutely useless, “wingdings” font. We assumed that it was coded and changing the text of this section into New Times Roman would allow us to translate it…WRONG. We were met with “words” such as “ajkhdfs” and “euhsdckzz.”


896) The Philosophical Assassination.

My mother brought me into this world, and since every second you live is basically a second closer to dying, isn’t giving someone life the same as sentencing them to death? Ok, this one is a stretch, but I needed a reason 896, so my total number of reasons could be evenly divided by 7. It NEEDS to be divisible by 7.



DUCK, MOTHERFUCKER! Posted by Hello

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