As we, the editorial staff of the Heuristic Squelch, are graduating in a scant few weeks, we no longer have to keep the many awful secrets we’ve kept for these four long trying years. First, the obvious secrets.
We’re the ones that write the Daily Cal, and have been doing so sarcastically for years. No doubt many of you are wise to this ruse, for you know that no newspaper could be so intentionally poorly written, and we appreciate you keeping your silence. But don’t worry, we’ve found a really top shelf breed of dog to take over the Daily Cal next year.
Now onto the deeper, darker secrets.
If you’ve ever submitted a piece or idea to the Squelch and we didn’t reply to you, it’s because it was awful. Unspeakably awful. Rest assured, if your half-baked concepts or kitten-laden humor were at ALL worthy, we would have stolen it and put our names on it. You may have noticed the magazine getting less and less funny, and it’s probably because of the incredibly harsh and soul-killing hazing process that all writers must go through. On the advice of this lawyer we kidnapped, we’ve been told not to tell you about some of the more illegal aspects of the process, but rest assured any Squelch writer knows what wine goes best with a hastily aborted fetus. Hint: it’s not Franzia.
While we’re on the subject of horrible crimes, the magazine has been funded almost entirely for the last decade by selling pirated movies out of our office in 310 Eshleman. And we’ve never gotten caught. Or even come close to getting caught. Especially not for Snakes on a Plane. That movie fucking sucked.
Also, we were the ones that killed that cop. Sorry Mumia, we should’ve spoken up sooner.
Don’t tell anyone.
