Word: padan
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...Padan Aram--A mysterious poetry/literary magazine that appears once every few months, then goes away again. Uneven quality, and it's only in its third year of operation. Lots of weird poetry...
...planet Earth, produced and sustained in a Harvard p-3 laboratory with a secret fluid extracted from the funny bone of Mark O'Donnell [before he did that silly piece in New Times]. An underground group of renegade "funny" students--all of whom remember the good old days of Padan Aram, The University Enquirer, and Stephen S.J. Hall--decide they'd like to put on a humorous show in order to raise enough money to go to Bermuda. When, in desperation, they go on a mad rampage through the tired symbols of American cultural bankruptcy--Easy-Off, Mopeds, McDonald...
...first break I got here this fall. I was just another junior--a regular sort, interested mostly in tutorial papers and chasing mopeds. And then one day, a little magazine that I'm sure you're familiar with hit the newsstands for the first time. The magazine was Padan Aram, and the rest is history. Alright, so being travel editor for a poetry magazine doesn't sound like the most exciting thing in the world, but you'd be surprised who I got to meet...
...Eliot House drowning in a big vat of Polynesian Meatless Balls? Ever hear of Milton Berle? Yep, I stole them all from Pete and Tommy over at the Indy. Now I'm giving credit where credit is due. You know what they say over at the Travel Desk at Padan Aram--Harvard may be Childhood's End, but Wit's End is truly Wit's End. That's what they say over at the Travel Desk at Padan Aram...
...what to all external appearances looked like your typical crackpot scientist's basement laboratory. There were the obligatory vapor-emitting test-tubes, cages full of mice, and banks of multi-colored lights rhythmically beating on and off. Something seemed amiss, however. The mice weren't soiling the copies of Padan Aram that had been placed in their cages. No, it looked to me as though they were reading them...