Harmon’s Histories: When ‘fake news’ was a fraternity’s spoof of UM students
By Jim Harmon
“We print anything the others won’t!” declared the Montana Kaimin.
The Kaimin also declared itself, “Montana’s Unreliable Newspaper.”
The January 16, 1923 spoof-edition included headlines like “BOMBASTIC GAS BARRAGE BEGINS LIFE IDEALS CONFERENCE MEETING” and “CAMPUS GREEKS WILL SHED BLOOD IN EARLY GYMNASIUM-MASSACRES.”
The editors announced, “We present with due modesty the 1923 Sigma Delta Chi edition of the Kaimin. It is customary in this edition to copy the style and makeup of some well-known paper.”
“We have chosen for our model the Daily Missoulian. We have picked the paper out of the front yard every morning and have studied it diligently. We have adhered to Missoulian style conscientiously.”
To all readers, the staff pledged to “WARD OFF ALL EVIL, THAT THE TRUTH MAY NOT BE KNOWN!”
Among the front-page fare, “OUR DAILY NOVELET: Gracefully she tripped down the library steps and fell flush on her heavily rouged chin. A dimple broke through the flushed surface of her pasty countenance as she staggered to her dainty flat feet.”
“She heaved a delicate sigh similar to the low breathing of a pasteurized cow. A gleam of near-intelligence lighted her lifeless orbs. With a flirt of decision, she trampled on her way. Slowly she plodded towards Main Hall. (To be continued.)”
Fake staff writers for the spoof edition included Bill Achin’ and Iona Male, with supplemental content from the Dissociated Press.
One headline read, “Daily Habits of University Women Exposed by an Observing Male.”
That “observing male” observed that the singular “perfect woman” no longer existed. The title, “Venus,” (aka, “The Perfect 36”) it seemed, now belonged to all women.
He wrote, “Big Stock of 36’s Exhausted; Store Is Stuck With Large Sizes.”
Venus may have “occupied a rather high place in the society of several thousand years ago, but if she were to stroll about the Montana campus today, she would pass unnoticed. Her perfect form which so delighted the sculptors of old is now as common as 98-cent radio sets.”
In 1923, he wrote, “those supple curves and dazzling lines wouldn’t draw a second thought. Ninety-nine per cent of the women on our campus have Venus backed into the third row of the chorus. They admit it themselves!”
“Venus with her boasted, ‘perfect 36’ would have competition galore! Nearly every girl she would meet on the campus could give her a fishy stare, untinged with envy. It would be a sad day for proud Venus. She would find herself forced to exert every artifice in her power to remain in the mad rush after Man — any Man.”
“No longer could she stand in queenly fashion, outside the seething struggle, and still be surrounded by worshipping men. No—she would have to marcel (wave) her bobbed locks weekly, take to rouge and lipstick and powder, pluck her eyebrows, wear radio boots, roll her socks, powder her knees and act like a female Charlie Chaplin with the seven-year itch and a bad case of delirium tremens,—to extract even a bare glance from haughty mankind.”
“She would find her perfect 36 as useless as a silence rule in a sorority house. The true information on the superb figures of the Montana co-eds were revealed last week when they handed in their orders for swimming suits. With but two exceptions, every girl took a size 36!”
“In an endless line they passed and murmured the same thing, “a 36, please.” Big, small, fat, thin, tall, short, slim, stout, willowy, lean, formless,—they all wore a perfect 36. Proud Venus might well win back her self esteem if she could but witness the first day that the new suits are used.”
The writer then introduced readers to his list of the “10 finest, handsomest, and most eligible men on the campus.”
“No. 1.—“Micky” McConnell. Height, 5 feet 5. Weight, 140 (can weigh more if necessary)-. Looks—Intelligent. Dances— occasionally BUT possesses a dress suit. Choice of girl, LOVABLE.
No. 2.—Ben Quesnel. Height, 5 feet 9. Weight, 140. Looks—agreeable. Choice of girl, PLAYFUL. Send yours early and avoid the rush.
No. 3.—“Chick” Guthrie. Height, 5 feet 10. Weight, 160 net. (Heavy) Looks—wide awake. Dances —usually. BUT knows where to find the soup and fish. Choice of girl, GOOD.
No. 4.—“John” Shaffer. Height, 6 feet 2. (Abe Lincoln’s size.) Weight, approximately 178 lbs. Dances—awkwardly, BUT has the suit with all the trimmings. Choice of girl, one not too ROUGH.
No. 5.—“Chick” Gleeson. Height, 5 feet 8. Weight, 145. Looks—smart. Dances—terrible. Choice of girl: one with car (has learned to dislike the taxis).
No. 6.—John Moriarty. Height, 6 feet 1. Weight 170. Looks — surprising. Dances— playfully, BUT has a suit of his own. Choice of female, VAMPISH.
No. 7.—“Ole” Bue. Height, 5 feet 11. Weight, 151. Looks—the part. Dances rotten. Choice of girl—one with some ORIGINAL IDEAS, so show your stuff.
No. 8.—“Nat” McKown. Height, 5 feet 8. Weight, 145. Looks—appealing. Choice of girl, almost decided upon.
No. 9.—“Tom” Mathews. Height, 5 feet 10. Weight, 150. Looks—sleepy. Dances when asked to do so. BUT can produce the goods. Choice of girl, one who can say, GOODNIGHT.
No. 10.— “Jerry” Reed. Height, 5 feet 8. Weight, 153 but can carry more. Looks scared and is, most of the time. Dances— awkwardly. Choice of girl, AFFECTIONATE.
So much for the Big Men On Campus.
The bottom line for the spoof-edition editors: Enjoy your college experience. “What doth it profit a man that he conquers the grade curve and loseth his soul? — Mark 14-92.”
What, indeed!
Jim Harmon is a longtime Missoula news broadcaster, now retired, who writes a weekly history column for Missoula Current. You can contact Jim at fuzzyfossil187@gmail.com. His best-selling book, “The Sneakin’est Man That Ever Was,” a collection of 46 vignettes of Western Montana history, is available at harmonshistories.com.