Wednesday, August 29, 2012

HOCKEYBEAR's Guide to Campus Destruction

Greetings once again, small humans of Michigan! I, HOCKEYBEAR, destroyer of planets, planetesimals, continents, nations, states, provinces, universities, colleges, etc., am pleased to announced that I will be writing a guest column at the Hoover Street Rag during college egghockey season!

Sometimes, as I curl up in my den to relax after completing a destructive mission of vital importance, I think back to the fear and trembling I leave in my wake, which leads my to think of Fear and Trembling by Søren Kierkegaard - a great northern soul, just like HOCKEYBEAR - and I ask myself, "Is it all worth it, HOCKEYBEAR? The destruction, the collateral damage, the smoking craters? Wouldn't it be better to just relax in my den, venture out occasionally to eat every part of some Chena River fish and some locally-grown potatoes, and pursue a life of quiet contemplation?"

But eventually I come to my senses and say Fah! to that line of thinking. Destruction can be a force for good. Destruction can inspire, or pump up, a crowd, as viewers of my videos are well aware. Destruction is necessary so that the old can be replaced by the new. Nowhere is this more true as in the modern academy, where new advances in knowledge and in technology make constant rebuilding and renovation necessary. With those thoughts in mind, I present to you:

HOCKEYBEAR's Guide to Campus Destruction!

The naive reader may think that my first column will be about how to destroy the University of Alabama, the first opponent the small humans of Michigan play in egghockey. But that is not the case: HOCKEYBEAR has no interest in your dull egghockey rivalries. The University of Michigan is clearly superior to the University of Alabama in Tuscaloosa because it has a high-level hockey team, and Alabama does not. The finest institution of higher learning in Alabama is Alabama-Huntsville, a school that bravely tries to compete in the highest levels of college hockey despite being located in a sweltering southeastern clime.

Instead, the first campus I shall destroy in my column is one that will hit close to home for many readers from Michigan, but fortunately, an adequate distance away from home itself: North Campus shall feel my wrath!


  1. isolating engineers from the university at large, making them somehow even more socially awkward
  2. inefficiently using real estate in greenbelted Ann Arbor, thereby contributing to ludicrously high rents for a midwestern college town
  3. building residence buildings without any convenient access to a dining hall, somehow forgetting the important fact that students need to eat
What Needs To Go:
  1. The Lurie Engineering Center. HOCKEYBEAR is a fervent supporter of higher education, and I am appalled to see more and more money being spent on administration and bureaucracy while tuition rises to levels so astronomical that only HOCKEYBEAR has reached them. The silver living to this depressing development is that fancy administration buildings make easy targets for HOCKEYBEAR.
  2. Those two little buildings at the base of the bell tower that look like...HOCKEYBEAR knows you know what they look like.
    Photo by flickr user eruditorum.
    HOCKEYBEAR says, "Attribute or feel my wrath!"
    Using my mighty forepaws, HOCKEYBEAR will rip one of testi-towers out of the ground and hurl it to the east, passing over the statue of my good pal Michigan Wolverine and caving in the west side of the Lurie Engineering Center. The tremendous force of my throw will cause the building to collapse to the east, with flying projectiles taking out the Blob.
  3. Pierpont Commons. That is one confusing building. HOCKEYBEAR once spent twenty minutes going to the ATM, finding his way down to the computer lab, and then working his way to the south end of the building to eat some Panda Express. Those twenty minutes gave SEAWOLF the time he needed to complete his diabolical plan and freeze me in a block of ice. I'll take out Pierpont Commons with the second testi-tower, being careful to leave the foundation in place so that a properly laid-out commons building that functions as a true campus center can be constructed over the ruins.
What Gets To Stay:
  1. The bust of Claude Shannon. HOCKEYBEAR loves that guy. None of the comm equipment on my jet would work without him (or, to be fair, his counterparts on extraterrestrial worlds who independently made the same discoveries).
  2. The Bentley Historical Library, one of the best repositories of historical hockey artifacts in the world. It also has a exhibition on the Polar Bear Expedition, and if there's one thing that gets you far with HOCKEYBEAR, it's pandering. I may have to destroy a few egghockey artifacts to make it clear that it's being spared for its ice hockey collection.
  3. The François-Xavier Bagnoud building. No one loves aerospace engineering more than HOCKEYBEAR, and I've been known to tip off a professor or two about some concepts I've learned while traveling the galaxy.
Did You Know?
    HOCKEYBEAR was contracted by Maya Lin to construct the Wave Field but very lightly tapping on the ground with his laser hockey stick, producing the gentle undulations you see today. While on campus to perform the construction, I left a half-eaten Butterfinger bar on a window ledge on the fourth floor of the EECS atrium, which is reportedly still there today. It appears that you guys take the admonition "No one better lay a finger on my Butterfinger" very seriously when it comes from HOCKEYBEAR.

    Next time: HOCKEYBEAR Lilly-pulverizes the University of Georgia.

    HOCKEYBEAR is a renowned primeval force of destruction known for his appearances in University of Alaska hockey intro videos. When not traveling across the galaxy destroying planets and stars, he lives in Fairbanks and supports his hometown Nanooks. You can follow HOCKEYBEAR's satirical path of destruction and links to cute polar bear videos on Twitter at @AKhockeybear. You can nominate campuses for destruction by messaging HOCKEYBEAR on Twitter too!

    No comments: