‘OVER THE EDGE

__ danuary 30, 2008

Attention Shopper!!!

It is my hideously, self-appointed duty to give some sorely
needed insight concerning what truly goes on in the work en-
vironment after hours. I know what you must be thinking. How
did this nameless, faceless person find out what happens after,
or in this instance before, hours? Well, perhaps this nameless,
faceless person is not as isolated as I appear to be. I do apolo-
gize for this slight deception but I do fear for my life.

I will begin with the tale I wish to impart in the usual man-
ner. I was newly come to my job when a small misfortune oc-
curred. I was balancing at the top of a tall, rickety ladder when
I saw a movement at the corner of,my eye. I couldn’t be sure
of course but it seemed as though the movement had sharp
little teeth and small beady eyes. I was slightly nervous so I
pulled one of my co-workers aside and asked in secreted tones
whether we had rats. She laughed at me of course and told me
not to worry. I was comforted by her confidence and put the
matter of the furry animal out of my mind. I was slightly tired
that day so perhaps I imagined it.

For nearly a month later I forgot about my initial start with
the idea of rats. The people were an absolute joy to work
beside and we sold many a good product to very interesting
people. I was thoroughly in love with my job choice. But] fear
this is where the joy of my very startling tale ends.

I do believe there is a saying which goes something akin to
this: All good things must come to an end. This fate defining
idiom is a perfect description of what, happened to me.

There was one silly rule in the careful environment of my
employment and it was never to enter the kiosk early and
never leave late. I always believed that this was put in place to
prevent the workers from overexerting themselves, so it was
with little mind when I walked to work in the beautiful May
weather and arrived at my destination one quarter of an hour
early. One quarter of an hour is hardly anything at all and I

wouldn’t be exerting myself terribly so I tried the door. To |

my infinite. surprise and delight, the door remained unlocked
and so J let myself in. There was a queer feeling to be had, be-
ing the only seemingly living soul in the building. I knew this
feeling must be false for it was impossible that I was the only
one to arrive. How could the doors be unlocked without the
presence of the manager?

As I entered the soulless building, I noticed a strange little
scratching sound behind a stack of books placed on sale for
duration. I suspected a mouse so I of course skirted as far
round as I could manage, having no interest in setting my
sights on the little monster. I traveled quickly to the designated
meeting area for staff members such as myself. After placing
my meager belongings in my cubby, I began to walk the aisles
of the establishment to tidy any stray items. I was walking the
second aisle to my right when I heard the same sound as pe-
fore. Frightened that it could be the mouse above me, I looked
up and saw...

A little green goblin! I have never seen anything like it in my

life but I was sure that that is what it was. I nearly had a heart
failure at the sight of the dreadful little creature. It was roughly
the size of a small child covered in a dirty dark green hair, like
a green monkey I’ve seen in books. The eyes were small beady
black buttons. It gave a high squeak that I had mistaken for a
mouse. I screamed for I could not help myself and the thing
swooped down on me.

You must forgive the lapse in my tale for I do not remember
anything after. I had collapsed in a faint because of my fright.
When I awoke next, I was outside of the establishment, lying
on the cold pavement, surrounded by the wonderful faces of
my coworkers. My head felt like it was stuffed full of cotton
and I incoherently tried to ask what happened. I tried to ask
about the nasty little goblins. At this moment, our manager
came forward and shooed everyone indoors to start the day.
He gave me one months paid leave, for the stress he said. A
shifty look in his eyes gave me the shakes. I took the leave of
absence and handed in my two weeks of notice.

Since that day I refused to enter in any large establishment,
and I urge you to do the same for you never know which ones
might use goblins to stock the shelves at night.

~Yours Truly,
A Disgruntled Employee

Television’s Underrated Artistic Value
The unique medium has long been unappreciated and passed
off as “just entertainment”

JAKE MOoNEY

Excauisur (Yor« University)

TORONTO (CUP) -- The Writer’s Guild of America strike
has put one of the most valuable art forms out there to a
screeching halt.

Television is the first real victim of the strike, not because of
the missed opportunities in revenue but because of the loss of
audiences and consequently the potential cancellation of some
truly superb television programs.

Shows like Friday Night Lights, Lost, 24, The Office and
many others consistently push the boundaries of television
as a medium, and constantly draw from the conventions that
have been laid out by their big-screen brothers over the course
of the last century. Television is an art form that, in order to
achieve progress as a medium, must be nurtured to turn into

something brilliant. The strike has put this process on hold as
writers fight for their rights.

There is no circling around the artistic and aesthetic values
that the box in your living room has. It has the power to enter-
tain you, an act that is truly indispensable in the broad scale
of things. The impact television has is astronomical and is as
important as anything else within the art community.

Television often gets written off as a vehicle for entertain-
ment and, more often than not, that entertainment is described
as “trash” or something bad for you. If you know where to
look, TV can be the complete opposite. It can be compelling,
engaging, informative and more than entertainment.

There are many stories being told via television dramas
that are beyond any possible realm of the imagination. This
is the art form that television has developed as its mandate

over time: that of being a supreme storyteller. Twin Peaks is a
drama that is still being discussed today and still heralded as a
mainstay in dramatic storytelling. Some of the finest comedies
are born out of the small screen — for example, The Office
will go down in television history for its undeniable ability to
make you laugh out loud. These are the paintings, and tele-
vision is the gallery.

We live in a glorious age of bright lights, touch-screen iPods
and Kanye West. Television is not a means to information any-
more; it has become its own artistic medium. And as viewers,
we are meant to soak up as much culture as possible — so go
ahead and lie on that couch. You owe it to your brain to engage
in televisual culture and be enlightened by the wealth of good
TV that there is out there. Once the strike is over, of course.

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