Do Not Sack Me.

    Imagine, if you will, a world without laughter. Imagine a world without smiles, a world without cuddly bunnies, a world without S'more flavored Pop Tarts. This is a world where little girls run outside to play in the green grass and pick daisies only to become the victims of atomic bombs and inflammatory political advertisements. This, ladies and gentlemen, is a world without The Pantomime Horse: a very frightening - and very possible reality.

     In January, we will be greeted with a new Editorial Page Editor, Zac Bos, who has the power to bring sweeping changes by sacking columnists. But let me say this, Mr. Bos: do not sack me.

     If the people gathered here are not a testament to my value as a columnist, then I ask you to consider a few things. First, I ask you to consider my writing skills. I can write clearly about anything. For instance, if you wanted me to write about, oh, let's say, "Alligators," I might give you something like this: "either of two crocodilians (genus Alligator) having broad heads not tapering to the snout and a special pocket in the upper jaw for reception of the enlarged lower fourth tooth." You would be hard-pressed to find a columnist as well informed about alligators as I am.

     Second, I ask you to consider my ability to use multiple voices and subtle tonality in my writing. You might wonder how I am able to do this - SHUTUP - well, it's because of my - THE VOICES - crippling multiple-personality - BEANS! - disorder, which I knew would come in handy some day.

     Third, I ask you to consider how important I am to the very English language itself. I have already made up two words since becoming a columnist, and I can enrich the lives of everyone with even more. "Gamorshinplaft." See? I just made up another one. I'm unstoppable.

     Fourth, I ask you to consider my uncanny punctuality. People ask how it is possible for me to always be on time, and the answer is simple: time travel. I'm actually always late for things, but I just hop in my time machine, travel back in time and kill Me Of The Past in a bloody duel - and no one's the wiser! If I was to maintain my position as columnist, you might find yourself in possession of one of these wonders - I've got a few spares lying around the dorm.

     Fifth - and I think this goes without saying - I am clearly the most photogenic of all the columnists. I mean, come on. By the way, Kirsten Conway, I love you and your "photoshoppe magicks" whatever dark arts they may be.

     Sixth, I ask you to consider how unbelievably generous I am. In your mailbox, you will soon find a collection of my trademark Mystery Chocolates, which I have lovingly made myself of only the finest ingredients. You will eat these non-denominational late December gifts and consider the mysteries contained within, which are twofold. The first mystery is "how could these chocolates be so delicious?" and the second mystery is "how could I live with myself if I didn't run The Pantomime Horse again?"

     I didn't want this speech to get confrontational, but I would just like you to know some things about me: first, I can easily incite mob violence. Every Wednesday, I join the Medieval Recreation Society in marching down Bay State Road, armed with pitchforks and torches, to lay siege to The Castle. If I were to leave a trail of Monty Python videos and Terry Pratchett novels leading to the Daily Free Press office, we would siege that instead. Beware our nerdy rage.

     Also, I know a Troll. When I told him I might not have a column next semester, he said this: "Me has strong arms for crushing peoples who no keep horsey column in printy-paper. Furthermore, I win Scrabble for first time. Huzzah! Don't sack Casey."

     Listen to the Troll. It's a mandate from the massive. But just in case you don't, I'd like to end by listing some words I've always wanted to use in a column, but never got the chance to: vestigial, happenstance, circumlocution, foppish, Oort and lozenge.