Hello everyone! I founded the Casey Corner two years ago in hopes that it would inspire and confuse the Transylvania University community, and I hope that I have done just that. Casey Corner has brought me immense joy to produce, but it is unfortunately time for me to retire. However! Casey Corner will not be leaving with me! I am leaving it in the very capable hands of Kate Polson, who will hand deliver you a Casey Corner for as many print copies as she’s got before her eventual retirement. Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and ponder Casey Corner and I would like to especially thank the Rambler staff for uplifting and supporting my wacky ideas. And an especially special thank you to Kate, whom I have no doubts will do an incredible job as the Casey Columnist. Goodbye!!
— Casey Casey, the once One and Only Casey Columnist
Fall 2023 (archive)
I had a dream that I was watching a mouse run through a field of barley. Hopping from one stalk to the next, not out of a need for survival, but a need for fun. When I awoke, I asked myself, “am I the mouse or am I the field?”
Winter 2024 (archive)
The woodcutter lamented to the scholar about the nature of impermanence.
“I look around the forest and I see new trees grow in the shadows of their fallen forebears”, the woodcutter groaned, “they are the same trees my parents knew and the same trees their parents knew, and it burdens me that so much changes but it all looks the same. If I didn’t know which trees I had cut, there’d be no way to know that they fell at all. Isn’t it unfair that we get something once, and once it’s gone you can never return it? I can plant the same sapling in the same spot, but it won’t grow into the same tree.”
“No”, replied the scholar, “you still carry every moment with you. It is not gone, but instead transformed into a memory. Everything you are and everything you do comes from every moment of your life you have lived.”
“But we only have so many moments!” shouted the woodcutter. “We get some time on this earth and then at the end, we die. Is there even a point to this life if the moments end!”
“No”, replied the scholar, “there is no point. You have no goal other than the goals you give yourself. There is no way to know how many moments you get, you’re just lucky to have them at all. So make the most of what you have.”
“You know what, you’re right!”, exclaimed the woodcutter. “I want to make the most of this life and what I have left, and I’m going to start by having a great big dinner tonight to celebrate! Would you please join me?”
“No”, replied the scholar, “I already ate.”
May Term 2024 (archive)
I generally don’t like to drive, but I have occasionally been known to make a vehicular promenade from time to time. When I am piloting my steel chariot, I can’t help but notice that every car is merging into each other’s lanes over and over like a french braid so as to pass the wagon in front of them. What the hell is going on here! Why is no one satisfied with where they are or who they’re behind! I’m going 90 in a 55; am I still too slow for thee? Praise be the king of the road who passes all the other jalopies with style and ease! Oh how I bend and applaud those who make dust of the meager peasants laid before them! I am kidding of course, I bow to no one. Really, I mean be content with where you are! Everyone is on a journey together and we gotta share the same road, so quit scurrying and start steadying! I think you’ll find that driving becomes easier when you make it a cruise, so put on some easy listening and compose yourself. I have an inclination that Mungo Jerry might be calling your name and buddy lemme tell you, the weather is fine.
Fall 2024 (archive)
I ran out of garlic mayo the other day. I had made a simple ham and cheese sandwich to bridge me from morning responsibilities to afternoon debauchery. I squeezed the bottle of garlic mayo and all that greeted me was a small “poot!” without even a drop of the egg based dressing. I had used the last of it without even knowing I was using it only two days prior. Garlic mayo is one of my favorite condiments, and in my mind, no sandwich is complete without a schmear of that fatty topping. Without my garlic mayo, a sandwich becomes a desert with no oasis to clear my dry throat. We have other sauces in the fridge, sure, and I like them well enough. But, they’re not garlic mayo. Neither ketchup, nor mustard, nor barbecue, nor even buffalo sauce compare to the silky richness of a good, cold garlic mayo. I’m not writing this to make you hungry or to remind you to put sauce on your grocery list, but rather I am spinning a cautionary tale. There are some things in this world that will disappear before you notice them and there is nothing you can do to stop them. There’s no use worrying about if you can predict it or when it will disappear, so cherish it while you have it. I may be without my garlic mayo now, but when I look back I remember every sandwich I enjoyed with the sacred condiment. I wish I had my garlic mayo with me right now for one more sandwich, but I can’t. It’s gone. So please, cherish what you have. Open your fridge and tell every sauce, every beverage, and even the leftovers that you love them. Because someday they will be eaten or expired and you will realize what you lost. But don’t just eat it, savor it. Taste it all before you take another bite. Don’t even open your mouth until you run every single crumb over every single one of your taste buds. Because when it’s gone, it’s really gone. And when it has departed you may feel like a part of you is missing. It’s ok to be upset, but remember what you had. Dry your eyes and look back at every bite you took along the way. Know that you did everything you could. And then make a note on your shopping list.
Winter 2025 (archive)
A wizard sits alone in the tower of his alabaster fortress, casting spells into his orb which bring life to his thoughts. Upon the wish receiver sits several sweet rolls, the leg of a profoundly plump phoenix, a glass of ghoul tea, and a cuban sandwich. “Blast it all!” the wizard screams out. “This orb is defective! How am I to attain unyielding power when all I can bring to life is the stuff of a glutton’s dream!” In a blind rage the wizard scoops up the orb and raises it above his head. Just before he delivers swift justice upon the cobbled floor, the wizard catches a glimpse of a label on the underside of the orb. It reads: “WARNING: YOU WILL ONLY RECEIVE WHAT YOU NEED.” The wizard sighs, sets the orb back on its pedestal, and takes a bite from the cuban. He mutters, “I knew I shouldn’t cast while hungry.”
May Term 2025 (archive)
In the Monkey’s Forest lives the Tree of Many Fruit, which is a very magical and important tree. It grows fruits of all varieties, each shining like a gem through the dense leaves. It is foretold that the greatest of these fruits is grown only at the very top of the tree, though none of the monkeys have ever seen it. The littlest monkey, hearing this rumor, decided to scale the tree and find out for himself. He climbed past the oranges, the pears and the apples, past the grapes, the peaches, and something he thought was a cherry. As he raced towards the top he saw papaya, star fruit, and his favorite: pineapple. Every single fruit was ripe and juicy, but he ignored them to chase the rumored fruit at the very top. He climbed and climbed and eventually made it to the top, but found no branches to cling to. The littlest monkey fell back down, completely and utterly fruitless. Had he grabbed something on his way up, maybe he could have slowed down enough to see what was really at the top. But fear not! For monkeys are excellent climbers and fantastic fallers. He rests now, but he will get up and try again. The question remains: will he try for the top again or lower his expectations?
