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Tuesday, May 21, 2024
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Satire Seagle

Satire: A letter from your future President Jonathan ‘J-dawg’ Alger

Burwell was nice and all, but that’s enough feminism for now

The following piece is satire and should not be misconstrued for actual reporting. Any resemblance to a student, staff or faculty member is coincidental.

What’s up Eagles! It’s me, your boy, Jonathan “J-dawg” Alger. I’ve been keeping it sleazy in Harrisonburg for these last 12 hazy years, but I’m getting ready to rock on down to Tenleytown. Now, I know what you’re thinking, who? Well, buckle in because I’m about to break this down! 

I’m a gentleman, so I wanted to start by shouting out my predecessor. Congrats on doing feminism, Sylvia! You were just as good as any man, probably. Starting next fall, though, I have some baller new policies I think will get your woke panties all in a twist! Call the University In-N-Out the way we’re gonna make things animal-style up in here. 

You’ve heard of AUx1, some of you have even heard of AUx2, but are you ready for AUx3? Put down the bell hooks and pick up the meat hooks, AUx3 teaches you how to be a successful butcher, and not of the lesbian variety. We’re teaching those real life skills like carpentry, physics and shotgunning a natty light to impress that hot freshman from stats that you soft-handed liberals have been missing. 

I noticed your Greek life is more like meek life (nice one, Jonny!) and my numero uno policy-o will be to get y’all back on track to freak life! I’m going to incorporate some of James Madison's finest policies including the These Hands DO Haze Act, which mandates that frats must shake down the sweet, sweet barely-legal pledges if they want to keep those letters. Don’t go easy on ‘em too. When I’m in charge you can do whatever you want as long as our PR team would hate it.

Additionally, I had a couple of very confusing interactions with those gender hoppin’ baristas of yours during my trips to campus. When I’m the big boss, we’re getting rid of all that she/they bullcrap. From now on you’re a sistah or you’re a mistah and nothing in between. There will be an exception for students in the Department of the Performing Arts. If you can make this old dog cry real tears through the power of song I don’t care what you think you are!  

Now I’ve heard things haven’t always been sunshine and gaybos recently. Swagmeister Sylvie told me to keep my eyes on those Young Democratic Socialists of America rascals, but I’m keeping an open mind to tasty Yellow pepper, Dill pickle, Salami and Anchovy (YDSA) sandwiches. What can I say, J-Dawg isn’t afraid to put new things in his mouth (still got it, Johnny!). To the staff union, I know getting a new contract is never easy, but as long as there are some bodacious babes at the bargaining table I’m willing to let a few things like dental coverage slide right on in. Just don’t expect the ballers at Huron to keep it chillax like me.

Well, I’ve yammered enough. It’s time to put on your big boy hats, kids, because winds of over 50 miles an hour aren’t gonna be the only thing blowing you away when Hurricane Alger hits fast and hard this August. 

Deuces!

J-Dawg 

This piece was edited by India Siecke, Jelinda Montes and Abigail Turner. Copy editing by Luna Jinks and Isabelle Kravis.


Section 202 host Gabrielle and friends go over some sports that aren’t in the sports media spotlight often, and review some sports based on their difficulty to play. 



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