Word: contests
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...fantasy persists. Even if it's "only" a $50 prize, this contest appears to differ drastically from those run by various companies in one very important way. For those resume contests, we had to use real resumes. But here, it would seem, one may not only edit and amplify, but entirely refashion oneself, creating a new identity for the contest alone. Tired of your dull laundry list of menial work-study jobs with inflated titles? Just turn yourself into John Adams, Class of 1755: "Built foundation of new government to alter national consciousness." Or Henry David Thoreau, Class...
Alas--or, might we say, "Jamnation!"--the Resume Contest offers about as much wish-fulfillment as the Kendo Club offers lewd entertainment. The poster directs interested students to a Web site, where the whole thing turns out to be a disappointingly harmless psychological test. Yet there remains something eerie about it, perhaps even more so after it becomes clear that the whole thing comes no closer to fulfilling our fantasies than the promises of free hot phone sex. Psychological researchers presumably designed this poster in order to capture our attention, and the method they devised...
However, there is heartening news to report from the land of the Resume Contest. Of the dozens of posters cluttering the entrance to Eliot House, many, including the Resume Contest poster, have little tabs cut out on the ends so that interested parties can tear off a phone number or e-mail address. While students had torn off the contact information for everything from yard sales to martial arts performances, as of yesterday, one lone poster's tabs remained entirely pristine and untouched: the Resume Contest's. In the land of competing fluorescent fantasies, no one was interested. Dara Horn...
...STARTED LIKE MOST JOURNEYS DO, full of idealistic hopes and dreams. MTV was having a contest --who would become the next Jesse Camp? Why not us? Why not me and my associates, Josh Simon and Aaron Cohen? Who could resist the charms of three scrawny Jewish kids moonlighting as veejays? Or, at the least, one scrawny Jewish kid. We would soon find out. Here is our story...
...precisely the festivities are to take place. All we find is a disorganized mob of scantily clad, wig-wearing divas, pierced, goateed deadbeats, and gelled, coifed and primped daytime drama kings, 8 by 10 glossies in tow. They're all shouting the same question we have: "Where's the contest...