November 15, 2016
Dear Mr. Adams,
Your favor of November the 8th came safely to hand. I wish it were in my power to suggest any remedy for the evils you complain of, but I am at present a man with much less leverage or power than a week ago I envisioned.
I have been defeated in the student body elections of 2016. Chad received approximately all the votes. 97% by last counting. I garnered a fair percentage of those who attend the 8am MWF classes, and a plurality of the continuing education students, those less vulnerable it seems, to the frivolous manipulations and intoxications of on-campus housing.
My status as founder of the institution and writer of our nation’s Declaration of Independence proved of little consequence in the minds of the voters. Chad’s promise to rid freshman of their dreaded fifteen pounds by “getting nasty” proved a brilliant and ultimately convincing campaign strategy. #FucktheFreshmanFifteen and #FFF were trending for many weeks on the Twitter atmosphere. I am resigned to admit that he captured a mood and a mild obesity problem to which I was unable to address with any authenticity.
I am so deeply buried in the sorrow of my failed campaign that the news from the larger campaign proves too heavy to bear. The minds are not yet ripe for the exaltation and torment of progress. I may again fall back to my pen for solace, but perhaps it is no time for words, however eloquent. No time for quarreling, however righteous. No time for posting, however much shared. If we must know who we are, action will delineate and define us. We may yet find enlightenment. And with it may tyranny and oppression of the body and mind vanish like spirits at the dawn of day.
How so then, Mr. Adams must we act?
