All good things must come to an end. Coincidently, The Athenian is ending too. To be honest, I never expected to have to wrap things up so soon, but I suppose that, eventually, every Editor in chief must make like an executioner and head off. Sadly, dear readers, this means that several prominent storylines will have to be left unanswered. Will Mahima finally quit the magazine? Has anyone seen my Kindle? And how will Aquene and JP make it through mayhem, fights, laughs, family trouble, romantic entanglements, tears and surprise as they learn what it truly means to be a friend? Still, it’s not quite over yet—and I have one more tale to tell.
It was a snowy April morning as I entered the Media Board office. Following the stunning success of our April Fools’ Issue (with which we had fooled many into thinking that we were WRUW) it felt like we were on top of the world. Thus, it was particularly jarring to immediately duck under a table which slammed into the door where my head was moments prior.
I looked around the room. David was furiously shredding documents, copies of The Observer and, judging by the pile of wrent computer parts and fabric fragments surrounding him, whatever else was in reach. Michael and Erin, in a heartwarming show of teamwork, were alternatively setting our financial records on fire and pushing them out the window. The source of the aforementioned flying furniture was Jasmine who was currently flipping over our tables and screaming, “How the tables have turned!”
“Nice weather we’re having,” I commented to Anastazia, who was standing in a mound of detergent bubbles and sopping dollar bills. “I take it that the money laundering didn’t go as planned?” She glared at me, angrier than Sean Spicer on a typical day of work.
“This is no time for wry yet accurate commentary,” she stated bitterly. “I see that you haven’t heard yet. Case just announced that our mascot is the Spartans.”
“That can’t be,” I exclaimed, horrified. “Why would any university choose a Spartan as a mascot? What about Spartie? Surely, he can clear this all up.”
“You don’t get it,” she exclaimed. “Think about how Spartie never stops talking about the Partition of Triparadisus, or how Spartie itself is an anagram for ‘spear it,’ the chief armament of the hoplites. It was in front of us all along. Spartie is a Spartan!”
“B-b-b-ut then…” I stuttered, more heartbroken than a patient undergoing triple bypass. I came to swift realization and decided to make an announcement: “Take note everyone. The Athenian doesn’t make any sense if the school mascot is actually a Spartan. We’ll have to make like Enron and shut down in a way that’s devastating both fiscally and personally to our employees.”
Anastazia shook her head solemnly in agreement. Just then, I noticed Shounak in the corner, studiously jotting down my commentary which triggered an idea. “Shounak, I’ve noticed you in the corner and your notes have triggered an idea,” I announced. “What do you all think about putting our writing skills to use as reporters of real news instead?”
Everyone booed. “Great!” I said. “But we need a new name, something that’s objective and perceptive. Something that observes our observational skills….”
“How about ‘The Perceiver,’” suggested Ashley. We all nodded our heads in agreement.
“Well, if that’s settled, then there’s only one more thing for The Athenian to do.” I declared. “Let’s take our most outrageous or pointless articles, the things that get cut in brainstorming month after month, and shove them all in one final issue. We can call it … The Last Issue!” I cheered while the others shrugged and got to work on the magazine you now hold in your hands.
Thus, I implore you: if you’d like to get involved with our publication, email both firstname.lastname@example.org and email@example.com. And for the very last time, I ask that if anything we publish is offensive or inaccurate, send complaints to firstname.lastname@example.org.
Tejas Joshi, Editor in chief