Throughout this year we’ve come up with themes for our issues: “You are Diseased,” “You are Alive,” “You are Chatroulette” or even recently “You are in Jail.” It’s been a tough year, a fun year, a year of excitement and a year of disappointment. We gave you a new section, WEEKEND; and we buried an old one, scene.

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Oh yeah, and we were almost called PHARMAKON. But you children weren’t ready. Maybe in 2025.

We made business cards. We kenned, we conquered. We drank enough to make it fun. We kept our best decorum. We missed the boat on Herald covers. We gained a lot of respect for others. We saved ourselves from sin and death. We hope we weren’t despised. We called Rumpus “The Rumpus,” and for this we are not sorry: We are contrite. We are leaving. We are not our successors — who were our writers, our lovers. We will ride again. We had teh sex. It was better than at least three-quarters of the sex we have had so far.

We got along with the rest of the YDN. Those guys are pretty cool. We encourage you to drink Four Loko. We have to go. Chloe Gordon ’11 is summoning us.

And just remember that, as Chairman Mao DIV ’42 say, “We must draw a clear dividing line between us and the enemy.”

This is our story.

And now, wenzels.

We remain,

Yours ever,

Danika Fears

Jay Dockendorf

Nick Niarchos

Zach Fuhrer