The Quest | The Free Press of Reed College

The Lutz Report

People criticize Reed a lot but it’s so much better than anywhere else but you don’t realize that until you go into the outside world and realize how awful it is. There are things you can talk about at Reed that you can’t talk about anywhere else just because of how shitty a society we […]

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The Lutz Report: Down the Rabbit Hole

Lutz Report

There’s nowhere to go but down. The surface is empty and exhausted (épuisé). On top of that, your compatriots ask you nicely to leave. So you DIIIIIiiiiiiivvvvvvvvveee. Boom. Welcome. Oh it’s sweet. You can taste the disgust in the back of your mouth, like an exboyfriend you see every day (welcome to reed guys) Look […]

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The Lutz Report: Queditor’s Lament

What the fuck am I spending so much time making this fucking newspaper for anyways? I put so much fucking time into fucking editing these articles that noone will remember in a week and all for what? My fucking name in the masthead and ten to fifteen more words to write on my CV so […]

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The Lutz Report: Genesis

SO. Who wants to hear about how I was conceived?!  It was not, unfortunately, anything close to my current reality. There was no Prosecco, no shit ton of reading due tomorrow, no temporary Einstein tattoos on inebriated contributor (OH MAH GAH WILL THEY CENSOR THIS? Honor Conundrum – speaking of which, Ellen Millender is the […]

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The Lutz Report: Why Your Computer OWNS You

I want to take you on a thought experiment. Imagine your computer. Sit down in front of it. Log on. Check your email. Stalk the person you plan on fucking during Renn Fayre. Then, calmly and with complete confidence in your actions, reach necxt to you and Grab the paint can sitting innocently next to […]

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The Lutz Report

Lutz Report

So here it is—THE LUTZ REPORT! Some of you know what it is; some of you don’t. Those of you who don’t, fuck you freshman and go write a hum paper or something. Basically, the Lutz report is, people get drunk and write shit to put in the Quest. We put it in white letters […]

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Au Revoir, My Darling Lutz: Eulogies by Reedies

The door. That door. You know the one. Years of forgetting have painted it red in my mind. Or black. But it was probably blue. And faded. As is my memory of it. It had a sound. A sound that even years of forgetting have done nothing to diminish. A sound that was audible even […]

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