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From the Radio Free America Issue (Mar 2000):
History of Fed Fort Fed builds fort and fights Sci-Fi club Elana Schor We needed a sanctuary. A place to call our own. So, in the tradition of Fort Sumter, Fort Greene, and other forts we couldn't think of, we created The Fed Fort. Styrofoam played a major role in the Fed Fort's genesis. Its infrastructure was made largely from the $1,000 armchairs (it's probably just a rumor, but as a journalistic organization we have a duty to perpetuate it) that populate the back rooms of the fifth floor student offices section of Lerner Hall. Cushions were removed, tables were propped, a genuine HQ was born. To be exact, and to give credit where credit is due, Erin Thompson created the Fed Fort. She supervised a crack construction team of Ned Ehrbar, Ted Scharff, and some other loiterers. The sight of the finished fort, in all its glory, brought the Fed staff to its knees. "You should do a story about this!" our editor-in-chief, Laurie "Venus" Marhoefer exclaimed. Erin promptly installed herself in the quarantine barracks, crafting a detailed map to initiate the Fed's full-scale takeover of major Morningside Heights landmarks. The planning stages had begun. Our Editor in Chief even had a throne, high atop the fort's third story. She protected The Fed Flag, crudely constructed from a protractor and a stick of bamboo. The Fed reveled for several minutes in its postmodern Lord of the Flies micro-society. Someone put styrofoam packing material around this reporter's neck. Hijinx ensued. The Science Fiction Society, an amiable fellow organization which has an office near that of the Fed, let jealousy corrupt its heart. Before the Feditors could react, several SFS board members had surrounded the fort and were threatening to use their "Sword of Power" to conquer the hardy group. Though the "Sword of Power" was a duct-taped illusion, the Fed Fort was no longer safe. Laurie was valiant, stealing the "Sword of Power" at the climax of a heated battle. Mark Kuba fought with abandon as well, ultimately standing off to the side and musing at the banality of conflict itself. Finally, the SFS was vanquished, left hurtling their broken bodies down the hall with a pitiful whimper. But then, just as in William Golding's classic tale of childhood ideals gone perversely wrong, Billy Q. Fakename took advantage of Laurie's stay in the Fort Sickbay (yes, we had a sickbay too!) and installed himself in the Editor-in- Chief's chair "This is just like in Lord of the Flies, when some guy took the shell thing and stepped on the other guy's glasses. One of them was named Piggy," said Meghan Keane. In truth, it was Meghan who gave this reporter her literary metaphor. During the dark days of the Fort, I was hiding under the smelly blue blanket with Ned and Ted, plotting a hasty retreat. Laurie's courageous stand dazzled the Feditors. "Uh, Paul, you took my seat," she said. "Uh, yeah, I guess so," he admitted. In celebration of Laurie's renewed leadership, there was a large, Oktoberfest-style feast in the dining hall, for which Tom Bellin provided the mead, harvested from his personal supply of honey. Native dancing was performed around the clock in the first floor atrium, and there was a spirited victory parade through the Fed office led by Grand Marshall J.D. Salinger. John McCain received an invitation, but he was scheduled to tour a rubber chicken factory and had to decline. The heady week of partying had tired out the Fed staff, and they had to go to class eventually. "What if the Fort gets taken down while we're gone?" said new Fed affiliate Marisa Escolar. Tearfully (at least Ted was tearful. The baby.) and somber, the Feditors knew what they had to do.
They went on holiday to Cambodia and got blasted on Vietnamese whiskey. Tom
may or may not have slept with a visiting Andorran queen played by Meryl Streep, in her
final screen appearance. When they got back, the Fed Fort was no more.
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