The Tribune

Writing is like sex. There’s that playing around with ideas before hand, the ejaculation of ideas on paper, and in one sweeping moment of inspiration the climax (of the story) comes, bringing everything to an end soon after. So why is it so much better to “do it” in Montreal? What is it about this city that makes it a great place for writers? After all, The Quebec Writers’ Federation dubbed Montreal the World Book Capital in 2005.

Do you use your extra spending money to buy books you may never get around to reading? Can you envision yourself 40 years from now spending three fourths of the day in your lavish mahogany library? Do you stroll along bookstore shelves just to “browse” and end up buying three unnecessary items? If you answered yes to any of these questions, then you have a clinical obsession with books.

Force your foot in the door, says Alex Grossi, and while she could be talking about any job, she is referring to television screenwriting. A lucrative and highly interesting position, screenwriting for TV has taken off in the past decade as the number of channels looking for the next “hit show” has expanded exponentially.

Montreal is a politically charged city in a politically charged province; even the most insulated McGill ghetto resident knows that. When put to the task, it is a good bet that most students could also tell you a bit about Quebec’s beef with Canada, Canada’s beef with Quebec, and do a half-decent impression of Jean Chretien (hint: as you’re talking, move your mouth like you are, in fact, chewing beef).

During a drunken night out on the town, no one thinks to question the political affiliation of his or her favourite street. Enjoying the bars on St-Denis? You might be promoting a military regime. Walking along Stanley? You could be a potential colonizing bastard.

The shiny brochures in the Welcome Centre may romanticize student life, but they cannot exaggerate this fact: McGill is a unique institution. As an internationally renowned, English university located in the centre of a French-speaking province, most McGill students come in contact with a tongue that they do not understand every day, whether it be French, Arabic or Japanese.

As informatiive – and enthralling – as student textbooks are, in order to be a truly knowledgeable student in Montreal, it is important to read the city newspapers (no, the Tribune doesn’t count). Although McGill is situated in the heart of one of the most socially and politically active cities in Canada, many students are unaware of what happens beyond the campus gates.

As I sat down to write this article, I was feeling less than inspired. Plagiarism is a topic that has been covered excessively, and it is also a rather boring one. I’ve read the same warning paragraph on each of my course outlines this semester, as has everyone else.

Engaging in a one-on-one meeting with a professor at the front of Leacock 132 for more than five minutes is a fantasy envisioned by many McGill undergraduates. Professors have their own agenda to attend to (think: “publish or perish”) and often cannot provide personal attention to each of the hundreds of students in their classes.

Frosh will go alcohol-free this Fall as part of a series of massive changes which are the result of a decreasing interest in getting shitfaced. Students’ Society Vice-President Internal Alex Brown said, “It’s really too bad that it’s come to this, but incoming students just don’t want to party.