Another school year gone, another Varsity publication year done. Now is traditionally the time to weigh it all, to reflect on the stories that made us angry and those that made us laugh, and also to review our performance as editors of this august and famous student newspaper.
An exit strategy is called for, something that allows us to leave this baby to tomorrow’s rightful owners–namely, next year’s elected staff, who fought each other viciously for the chance to take over. But how to bow out gracefully?
There are many ways to say goodbye. Among them is the popular list–a catalogue of the people, places and politics that punctuated the year past. Last September (so we’d write), UTSU was something archaic (yet infinitely more pronounceable) known as SAC. Our campus hosted a blob of uncertain provenance known as a Bubble; today, we have a fully-funded Stadium (until the student funding runs out next year, anyhow). U of T had multiple, rather profitable tobacco stocks in its portfolio; as of this week, the powers that be are doing the smart thing and selling them off (“smart” in this case means following a wild, insider tip that those stocks aren’t about to go up).
If you don’t like the list, there’s the rant, where we tell every tuition-raising administrator, pig-headed prof, and overpriced, corporate cafeteria to go fuck themselves.
Then there is the state of the union, in which the battles, losses and victories of the current administration are paraded to the res publica, ad nauseam. We were tarred and feathered by the Ubyssey for pusillanimous conduct unbefitting the student press, but we prevailed! We lobbed rhetorical spitballs at secularist crimefighter Justin Trottier and got heavily scolded by his relative(s) (see Letters, below)! Students voted to grant us $1.24 more per year in fees, the first increase in the biological lives of our current staff!
Logically, there follows the apologia, in which we attempt to justify certain editorial choices. We’d seek pardon for parading the aesthetics of U of T’s athletes in our puerile pages (see Sporty six-pack, pages 14 and 15).
There’s the Oscar acceptance speech, which involves thanking the unsung heroes that we worked with for making us look damn good. Thanks, Rogelio Briseño (production magic), Kara Dillon (photo pizzazz), and André Bovee-Begun (copy-editing savvy) for putting up with us on those late nights and smoothing all the wrinkles.
Next comes the Eisenhower farewell address, in which we warn our readers to beware the many rough beasts slouching toward us, reminding all of the harsh truths of dark ages ahead. Whereas Ike cautioned us to beware the military-industrial complex, we may warn of the havoc wreaked by climate change, rampaging world poverty and disease, and rising tuition fees. Also known as the Jane Jacobs, such a screed has been favoured by many, ignored by even more.
And, of course, there is the dreaded, most horrifying sign-off of all: the terrible meta-editorial, province of lazy writers and those anxious of influence. This sickening form is unfortunately becoming something of a cliché, as it has been resorted to by more than one stumped Varsity editor.
So, now that we know our options, it’s time to sally forth and wave ta-ta, for real this time.
Wait–what’s that you say? I’m out of space? Whoops. Oh well…
Thanks for reading. Roll credits.
