I’m sure they won’t keep this post up for long. They know that what I write is true, and they fear that I may rip the corruption up by its roots and oust the tyrannical Flipside governing body of which I am woefully a part. Call me a whistleblower. Call me a martyr. I don’t care, I do this for the people. My predecessor in attempting to expose the corruption of Flipside has been dealt with already. He knew too much, but I heard his cries. I’ll do what he could not.

It all came to a head when we were told to “finish whatever we were writing” at the most recent Flipside writer’s meeting. That’s right, we have meetings where we come up with our headlines. This may be a revelation, but read on, my intrepid brethren. Finish whatever I’m writing? Oh, finish whatever I’m writing? Alright, who put you in power, Oh Great President Xanthe Brown? Oh, it was an election, was it? Bullshit. Who would put you in power? Who would put you in power? Bullshit. Bullshit election. I won’t finish what I’m writing. I won’t do it. No matter what you do, I’ll still be writing. In my mind. Always writing. You can’t enact thought-warfare on me. What is this, literally 1984? Fuck you. Fuck off. Fuck.

Fuck you, President Xanthe. You’re a despot, a tyrant, a dictator. Who went and made you god-king? Fuck that. Our democracy is rigged. I was just elected to appease the masses, to unwittingly pull the blindfold down over their eyes. Bastards, the lot of you. All you want to see is the corruption of this university’s superb publication — I won’t let you have your way. Not like we let the last administration fool and beguile previous writers. Not while I’m here. Xanthe Brown, you’re a false president. I’ll see you removed from office should I have the chance.