Disclaimer: For those of you who only read my column two weeks ago because you saw the word SEX in the title: I offer this in the way of apology — Psych!!!

And there is no sex in this one.

Or is there?

I have received notice from some members of my readership (all three of them) that I am to do no more serious commentating. I am instead to return to my previous one-eyebrow-cocked, rather silly self.

Non-substantive (are you sure? Sometimes you may want to look closely…) seems to suit just swell in these all-too-serious times, and I am more than happy to oblige. And of course, like the talented April Samp so graciously stated last week — ideas and perceptions are always welcome.

And just so nobody thinks that my being a little hard to find is some way of dodging—my email is [email protected].

At least, until my recent name change can catch up with Vincent without purging all those files I’ve collected (or been too lazy to delete) for more than three years.

Also, there is always the omnipotent, and ever-tolerant, editor of op-ed pages: Tim Davis.

All right, enough of that. I have a statement of intent for all devoted Iowa State Daily readers:

I have no plans at present (this week) to be a social conscience — that’s a position with no job security or opportunity for advancement. I refuse to assume moral or intellectual leadership — we have Robert On-The-Dole and the Billary Clintons for that.

No way should I portend to deep portend to deep profundity (that’s such a cool English-y phrase).

Anyway, for profundity, George Will, Sam Donaldson, and the editorial board of the Des Moines Register can have it.

So, this week, I think I have found a way to fulfill my social obligations as a concerned contributor to society.

For those of you who have a life, and may not have perused all print media available in our little intellectual mecca, I volunteer to catch you up on all the fascinating, crucial goings-on (little things) that can’t be scanned as you step over the paper on the sidewalk, bus aisle, or hallway floor.

I’ll tell you what they don’t want you to see just before kicking that paper someone else left further under your seat, or as you glance into the little wastebasket in the hall by your classroom.

So, here is my slant on some News of Note:

Dick Morris should get a gold medal for the flawless execution of his multi-step Plan to Make Obscene Amounts of Money. $2.5 million book deal, huh?

Sherry Rowlands should have tried to sign with Random… Bad call, Sherry. Unless… she’s not in on this, is she? Hmmm…

There are no thirteenth floors in skyscrapers. There are no ladders made with thirteen rungs. But the atheistic anarchists at Pacific Bell assigned the telephone prefix -666- to the Jesuit-run University of San Francisco.

What were they thinking? Finally, the years of suffering the bad jokes are over — the new prefix is 422. And the devil shall be overcome.

Will the real issue please stand up? Russell Baker — New York Times — on political(?) campaigning by Dole and Clinton: “What right do these unordained evangelists have to mess with my family? Dole promises to elevate the country’s moral tone.” (And who was writing the “family values” agenda for Clinton?) “Are he and Clinton running for pope?” Go, Russell.

Did you know that in Ames… Kangaroos and armadillos are not considered wild animals. But bats, anteaters, orangutans — and soon lap dancers — are?

I am currently checking with whatever office would know, to see if at least 27 percent of our male student body DID NOT change their majors to law enforcement. (Tips for lap-dancers are valid on expense reports.)

Speaking of lap-dancing… Have you heard that the ordinance against it may now have a loop-hole? (Great wording, huh? Not mine, but great.) I just hope this loop-hole is not in the G-string area…

Isn’t it bad form to arrest a girl after getting a lap-dance from her? It could have been worse, I suppose, except that for sure would have been entrapment.

Do any Senators live in Connecticut, where encephalitis-carrying mosquitoes have been found?

There must be bunch, because there seem to be more a few voting with swollen brains lately… I wonder if any of those mosquitoes have made it here, at least to wherever the City Council hangs out…

Well, I can hear those — who have to squeeze all this into the space allowed — sighing patiently, but deeply, so that’s all for now.

But I’ll be back — I’ve got scads of this stuff…

My thought for the day: The rate at which a person can mature is directly proportional to the embarrassment he can tolerate. — Doug Englebart.

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Audrae Jones is a senior in English from Clear Lake.