The Road from Serfdom:
Dirty Little Secrets of the Michigan Review

For the past three years (nearly two years as an editor) I have slaved and struggled to aid this fine publication. Now, gleefully, my endless nights of copy-editing and layout have reached their long-awaited conclusion. But, as I depart from our dear Suite One office, and take the road away from its, and socialism’s, serfdom, I wax regretfully at my impending departure. For, soon, I can provide you all with no more services—no witty commentary or biting satire or irrelevant pro-baseball rants. Still, as a final gift to you, my dear readership, I hereby present all those things that my continuing employment at this paper previously prevented me from mentioning. Some may embarrass, most will enlighten. Enjoy! Here are the Dirty Little Secrets of the Michigan Review.

“Critics say.”— Quite often, we here at the Review dig up dirt on leftwing activists, MSA hacks, or Administration bureaucrats. Yet, these stories present a problem. For us, or any newspaper, to simply report facts would be, quite frankly, boring and hard to read. “Real” newspapers add spice by getting contrasting quotes from various critics. If the reporter added those opinions himself, that would show bias—but if he gets someone else to say it—presto, an “objective news story.” Sadly, we frequently report on issues too minor and localized for anyone to care. Absent the Review staff, no “critics” exist. Therefore, instead of actual people, we paraphrase those nameless critics—carefully leaving out that they usually serve as Review staffers.

The (mis)editing process—Writer turns in story. Editor #1 rewrites said story. Editor #2 rewrites rewrite. Editor #3 adds some “minor” final touches. Story is sent to printers. Writer reads story, can sometimes barely recognize it. The sad fact is that one cannot always hold our writers liable for what they supposedly “write”—especially when it comes to stylistic things such as sensationalistic headlines. Nor can any individual editor. There have been times when I read my allegedly own stuff, and find myself shocked that “I” said such things. It happens. How can anyone ensure we publish his or her version of a story? Stay up later than anyone else.

Continuity—Sometimes people come up to me and ask why the paper is so different from the one they read last year, or three years ago. The answer, of course, is that the paper itself has no principles—only the people who write for it. Its views reflect those of ever changing (and small) staff. Five years ago, it went hardcore libertarian. Last year, bitterly satirical Burkian conservative. This year, a hodgepodge of libertarian and center-right opinion. Next year—with Editor Yeh, a headhunting journal of militia opinion, willing to squash any libertine moral corruption they find.

Objectivity—many people bash us as a mere “right-wing rag.” Such people confuse editorial and news policy. True, we publish a large quantity of conservative and libertarian opinion. However, we also frequently run objective news pieces with no particular bias—or even stuff critical of the Right. For example, after the Daily refused to touch the story with a 10 foot pole, we broke the news that College Republican President Rory Diamond was caught falsifying MSA documents, leading to the CR’s de-recognition as a student group. Simply put, when people on campus act stupid, we might report it—without regard to political affiliation.

The Alleged Personal Vendetta—Those of you of read this paper frequently know that there are a few people we’ve had particular fun with this year—Jessica Curtin, Rory Diamond, Will Reubens, the Students of Color Coalition, etc. I’m not talking news reporting—I’m talking about satire, Serpent’s Tooth, and creative use of famous paintings. At the same time, we’ve basically given a free pass to such hardcore activists as SOLE’s Rodolfo Palma-Lulion or MSA’s Bram “I’m too cool to call myself Abraham” Elias. Why the disparity? Well, there are two reasons. For one thing, people like Mr. Elias and Mr. Palma-Lulion are generally friendly, honest guys. They might rest to the left of Ted Kennedy on the political spectrum, but they don’t go on rants demonizing their opponents. In addition—they publicly admit their politics. Contrast that to the behavior of the shady Ms. Curtin, Mr. Diamond, or Mr. Reubens. This brand of activist frequently seems ethically shaky—be it running up 17,000 copies on the school copy machine or falsifying student government documents. None possess any sort of tolerance for their opponents—demonizing them all as “racists” like Ms. Curtin, or threatening to kill a certain Michigan Review staffer ala Mr. Reubens. Essentially we don’t “go after” people—we wait for them to act, and then enjoy ourselves. Incidentally, politics has very little to do with it. As a non-partisan offender, we attack the crazies on the Right (i.e. Mr. Diamond) just as much as the crazies on the Left.

Serpent’s Tooth—Nearly every issue put together at about  3am by two or three very tired staffers (generally myself and Comrade Yeh). Tiredness works in much the same way as drunkenness and combined they are even more effective. You say things you’d never think of sober and awake. We record some of those things, preserving forever in the annals of the Serpent’s Tooth. Alas, frequently our wit runs dry. It is then when we turn to ye ol’ standbys: Mormon jokes, gay-bashing humor, and the Anagram Genius. Tired ethnic humor acceptable also. Oh—in case your wondering where we got the name, it comes from a speech by Shakespeare’s King Lear in which the elderly Lear calls on heaven to curse his daughters and make their children evil. In Lear’s words, “how sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is to have a thankless child.” (I,iv,288-289).

The Vast-Right Wing Conspiracy—Scene one: a faithful reader e-mails the Michigan Review, letting them know about a suspicious English course entitled, “How to be gay.” Scene two: a Michigan Review staffer e-mails Review alumni (and current National Review reporter) about said course. Scene three: article appears on National Review webpage about course, other conservative organizations denounce course as yet another continuing outrage of leftist academia. Scene four (soon to be written): trying to find an outlet for their rage against a leftist Bollinger Administration that created said course, disgruntled alumni start funneling money to a small conservative campus newspaper, the Michigan Review. In short, when a national scandal like this erupts on campus, there’s a good chance we’re behind it, and will benefit from it. Thank you Mr. Halperin.

Free Publicity—There is nothing we take pleasure in more than seeing the reddish, angry faces of our political opponents. Perhaps the crowning jewel of my collegiate journalism career came one bright Spring day last year, when feminists took it upon themselves to smash piñatas on the Diag. However, these were no ordinary piñatas—rather they served as a symbol of phallocentric oppression. And what better way to accomplish that then to create them entirely from old Michigan Review’s, showcased with brilliant painted on slogans such as “Capitalism” and “Smash the State.” Oh, by the way, thank you Shamus for your Daily coverage. But when oh when will the Every Three Weekly get into the act?

The Failure of Conservative Activism—It can be summed up in one word: graduation. People like me come upon the stage and shine brightly. Soon, however, we exit for something known as “the real world.” I’ve attended this fine University a mere three years, will complete my degree in three weeks, then leave. Why? Because unlike other activists, I have a life. I don’t care enough about my causes to stay a student for centuries and rabble-rouse. Nor do I much like the BAMN alternative—drop out of high school, then rabble-rouse at U-M forever. Quite simply: the conservatives and libertarians have better things to do then build a “national integrated militant student movement” or whatever the damn slogan is.

 p.s.—watch for the illustrious Review mascot, Captain Nicaragua, to make an appearance at the Nekkid Mile. Oh.. as to the whole Nicaragua thing, that’s one secret I won’t mention.