If I was the Sun, I’d look for shade.
If I was a bed, I would stay unmade.
If I was a river, I’d run uphill.
You call me, you know I will.
— Grateful Dead
In case you’re wondering, this quote has absolutely nothing to do with anything, but I felt like using it anyway, ’cause dammit I’m an editor and that’s what editors do. And even though I’m a Comp Lit major, I’m not that anal that the lack of grammatical correctness in this quote bothers me. To be honest, I’m really quoting from “Liberty” in order to bring some hope and love back into the otherwise mundane and meaningless blob of amorphous gelatin (the synthetic kind, not the stuff made from dead animal hoofs) we have the overwhelming audacity to deem an existence. Oh yah, it’s also to re-affirm the Squelch’s unwavering support for some of the oldest yet best performers ever known to man, woman, goat, and Curious George. Any insults printed against the Dead in the last issue have been taken care of, and those staff members and editors responsible have been severely disciplined, and in some cases lobotomized. There should be no further problems.
As for the timing of this paper, of course this is a stupid fucking time to put out an issue! Its not like any of us have, oh, say two papers to write in the next few days totaling about 25 pages, which we could be diligently working on were it not for this issue which we are so cleverly wedging between the end of classes and finals so you people will have something amusing and comical to take your minds off the unimaginable pressure of finals while we break our arms trying to pat ourselves on our collective back, all the time knowing full well that the Squelch won’t help us get into grad school as much as getting, say, an “A” in our English class, which will never happen because of all the time spent on this publication! How’s that for circular reasoning? Or reasoning in general? Or genitals? Or Germinal? Or germination? Or germs? Or worms? Or sperm? Or sperm whales? Or Sierra Nevada Pale Ale? Or a north-easterly gale? Or some e-mail? Or a suit of chain mail? Or a male? Or a female? Or kale? Or a tail? Or Tailhook? Or Tillamook? Or….
Enough obnoxious, bitter commentary. I’d now like to turn to something a bit more meaningful: Thanksgiving. As most people know, Thanksgiving has just passed, something like a large and painful kidney stone, and I wish to give my thanks to my fellow editors and editresses. Mark: Thanks for listening to me complain about my life every day for the last few months and paying for the Bay Bridge. Karen: Thanks for running with me (when you don’t flake) and seeing to my physical and emotional well-being. Matt: Thanks for bizarre card games and humor too sick and twisted for even the Squelch to print. Irad: Thanks for the shrubbery and letting me borrow your Powerbook (upon which this was written). Keith: Thanks for being the only person to remind us of our Squelcherly duties. Saba: Thanks for letting me keep my job. Josh: Like, thanks and stuff. And thanks to Sarah.
Now that most people have probably stopped reading this due to my self- serving personal diary entry, I’ll try to return to something more universal. As this semester draws to a close, our first as the head- honchos here at Chez Squelch, I must say that it is a damn fun job. Too bad I couldn’t survive doing this. It would be even more fun if we started things ahead of time and didn’t do everything the night before. Don’t get me wrong; I love finishing at 2 am and then loading up the car to drive down to see the fabulous people of Fremont, then go and eat some sorry excuse for food at Denny’s, and return home and get in bed, only to get up a far-too-few hours later in order to pick the papers up. But, there just might be a better way. The best part, however, is handing out the Squelch on Sproul, singing and dancing, and occasionally wearing women’s clothing. YOU, yes YOU reader, are what makes it all worthwhile. Bless your cheating heart! See y’all next semester.