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Fork Zine: Editorial

There is a spectre haunting Canada Games Pool . . .

Friends, I write to you today about a serious topic. Take a moment next time you are at work, and slide open our Tupperware drawer. Make a note of what you see. An optimist will see a paradise for hot-knifers. The rest will notice a complete and utter lack of forks. It never always used to be this way. Up until a few months ago, we had lots of forks and everyone was happy. But one day Brent asked one of the guards to clean out the two drawers under the benches. To his dismay and horror, this individual (who has yet to be identified by the Royal Canadian Canada Games Pool Police) threw out all the forks, yet allowed the knives to remain untouched. Since that time, the fork equilibrium has been lopsided and has yet to be fixed.

At first, no one really noticed nor cared, but it's amazing what a few months of cutlery deprivation will do to people. Those who first scoffed at the idea of a "Fork Fund" aren't laughing anymore. The scenes I've witnessed. Oh, I've seen bad times. I've fought for the microwave at 5:06 p.m. on a Tuesday evening. I've hosed the boys changeroom on a Friday night. But the lack of forks has created scenes of human depravity difficult to describe. I saw Greg, a formally proud man, forced to use two knives like chopsticks in order to eat a steak dinner. I have seen the ugly face of cutlery inequity. It is sad to see people beg and plead for forks, and it is even sadder to see people become increasingly dependent on the powerful fork aristocracy, who have not earned their forks, but were born with a silver fork in their mouth. This system has robbed many of their dignity and status.

How many more must suffer? Do we want to continue to support this cutlery elitism? No! I support life, liberty and an adequate supply of cutlery. It is one of the inviolable rights. It is the missing clause in the declaration of the rights of man. Give me forks, or give me death, sayth I. There are a few critics who disagree with my theories. Bring forks from home they say. No. This is not the solution. We need to break out of our selfish individuality, and work together as a group. We need to build up a communal supply of forks. We need to rediscover the virtues of sharing, like we learned in kindergarten.

Desperate times require desperate measures. Necessity is the mother of invention. People have found fork loopholes. But this can't last for much longer. Something's got to give. Chris Jouan can't be expected to tolerate the continual pillaging of his cutlery stash. Besides, his plastic forks cause untold environmental damage in a decade when we are constantly urged to reduce, reuse, and recycle. We have a decision before us. Off in the horizon lay two intellectual highways to choose from. We are, to extend the metaphor into a pun, at a fork in the road. Do we want entropy and balance, or chaos and anarchy? I once again put forward the idea of a fork fund. I'm open to suggestions. I'm willing to broaden the movement. I'm willing to support sporks. And in a response to charges of my spoon-a-phobia, I'll even support purchasing spoons if that's what it will take for the movement to gain support. We'll need to mark and brand the forks to ensure no one takes them. They'll be other details to take care of. But together, we can work this problem out. Am I a paranoid madman or a visionary genius? I'll let you decide. All I ask is that lifeguards of C.G.P. unite, you have nothing to lose but your spare change.

On to Ryan's Advice Column for the suprising solution!

Read Musical Tributes to Forks for more inspiring words.