I sat down with the mustachioed editor late September to learn exactly what he really does.
Talia Glotones (she/her) // Contributor
Kit Vega (she/they) // Web Art
I met up with Capilano Courier humour editor, Adam Wallace, in late September at his basement suite in North Vancouver. He greets me on the asphalt outside, stepping daintily in his socks. He extends the usual courtesies and brings me to his bedroom to do the interview. I step over piles of clothing and miscellaneous cables strewn haplessly all over the fake hardwood floor.
“Please, sit” he says, gesturing to a bass amplifier next to his cluttered desk. He takes a seat in a creaky office chair of which the faux-leather finish has almost completely been peeled off. I pull out my zoom recorder and we begin the interview.
Q: So, in your own words, what is it exactly you say you do around the Capilano Courier?
A; Well, basically, I’m the head of the humour section. I come up with concepts, contact contributors and edit their articles, generally I just keep an eye on what’s funny and what’s not, what could be funnier, how things could be funnier, stuff like that.
Q: And what would you say qualifies you to do that?
A: I, uh..
At this point, Adam’s train of thought seems halted. He goes to speak, then stops himself. He does this multiple times.
A: Well…
He grasps for an opened box of Rainbow chips ahoy sitting next to some dirty mugs on his desk, but it’s just a little too far out of reach.
A: Little help?
I oblige, pushing the colourful cookies inches closer and into his hand. He grabs the box, rips it open and crunches a cookie in his mouth with fervor.
A: Sorry, I’m still thinking of an answer to that.
Q: Well we can circle back to it later on if you want.
A: No, it’s okay, I think– I think it’s because people think I’m funny.
He shoves another cookie into his mouth.
Q: I sense some hesitation in your voice.
A: Well, It’s just because I don’t necessarily want to be funny I guess, or at least it’s not the only thing I want. I do want to be taken seriously, like I think I do have something to offer as a writer with a unique worldview, but for some reason, I always find–
Adam takes another bite at a rainbow cookie, crumbs flying onto his black shirt.
A: There’s something holding me back from being seen as a contender.
Q: You say you don’t want to be funny, but why not? I think most people, especially writers, consider the ability to make others laugh a gift.
A: Well I guess there’s this element of embarrassment, like I feel as though I’m purposefully debasing myself in order to get laughs from people sometimes. I just wish I was able to connect with people in more meaningful ways.
Q: I don’t think humour is meaningless.
A: Yeah, okay fair. But you know what I mean.
Q: It isn’t it your choice though to play that role? I mean you could stop at any time, can’t you?
A: I don’t know, it’s hard to stop playing the role that you’ve already put yourself in.
Q: It certainly can be. Change as a whole is always scary.
A: Change as a whole.. Change as a whole.. Change.. As.. a.. whole..
Adam starts rubbing his chin with his thumb, seemingly caught in a thought…
A: Change as hole and it’s change like quarters and stuff and instead of whole like everything it’s hole like butthole!
He throws me a look as if to ask me what I thought.
Q: Oh.. uh, haha, yeah that’s– that’s funny I suppose.
A: Yes!
He pumps his fist victoriously. He starts doing a hand roll dance and bobbing his head to an imaginary rhythm.
A: (in falsetto) oh yeah, oh yeah, go Adam, oh yeah!
He stands up and gestures to me at his open door.
A: I’m sorry but I have to write now. Good day.
Q: Can we finish the interview?
A: Please leave.
Q: Okay I’m just wondering if–
A: Seriously, get up. Go! Come on, hit the road. Today?
Q: I’m just–
A: Hey lady, vamoose! Time to get out of my rooooooom!
So that’s how the interview ends, abruptly and weirdly rude. It’s fitting for a man who could so easily fit into that description just as well. Look for his work in the humour section, I’m sure he’ll be writing something about butts and change for next month’s issue.
In my admittedly biased opinion, the students of this school should not be paying this man for his writing, not even a little. His humour is far from academically acceptable, it’s juvenile and has no place in an institution of learning like ours. Additionally, he has an air of self-importance, as if he believes it’s an undeniable fact that he is funny.