From the Editor// Savannah Nelson


Laughter is poison. It represents the deterioration of our society, and I hate it. I resent jokes and pranks and good times and clutch-your-belly giggles. Humor is dead, and we’d all benefit from cutting ourselves off.

I’m a realist. The cup isn’t empty or full—it’s a goddamn cup that we shouldn’t even be talking about. How about addressing things that matter? Let’s stop whining about metaphors and move on to practical matters. Comedy doesn’t fit into this category; it’s a waste of time that makes small people feel significant for a few brief moments. 

In high school I learned that people use humor to cope, because it’s easier to laugh than cry. Dissatisfied with the president? Turn to late night television. Suffering from anxiety or depression? Create a meme. Laughter is the oversimplification of issues that no one wants to face. You know what’s easier to do, without being so lazy? Be straight-faced and stoic, and suck it the fuck up. Take your emotion and stuff it down deep where it belongs.

I was once a peppy and perky person, who relied heavily on laughter to make it through every day. I retweeted comedians’ political commentary, watched Vines of people falling on ice and other slapstick sketches, and watched YouTube videos of kids biting fingers and Harry Potter puppets singing. I was a slave to merriment. It held me back.

Then, college struck. I realized that I’d been living a lie. All of that giggling was destroying my goals and inflating my ego, instead of helping to make me well-rounded like I thought. It was distracting me from living a full life until I made the change: Suddenly I was not bothered by the follies of joy and infatuation, and I found comfort in the non-feeling and static.

This new frame of mind has helped me tremendously with running the newspaper. I pride this publication on being humorless, dry, and never clever or witty. Sarcasm is a cry for help, which is why I cross out any traces with a red pen and move on to the insertion of straight facts. However, for once I’ve decided to let humor into the Sentry, for this week only.

Beware of this issue. If you’re anything like me, you will eye-roll at our indulgence and puke in response to our sick attempts at satire. You might throw down your copy of the paper and boycott us, and I wouldn’t blame you in the slightest. Before reading on, here’s the real question to consider: Can you take a joke?

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