We need to talk. No, no, this has nothing to do with what Student Council did.
Yeah, I heard about Barack’s interview, but that’s not the issue here. No, it’s not Walker either. Just listen!
Badger Herald, … I’m leaving you. … It’s over.
Don’t get me wrong; Things have been great for the last three years. We’ve been through a lot together: murder, tea party rallies, explorations of the nuances of tax incremental financing, and that was only the first year. Since then you’ve stood by me while nameless neckbeards and mouthbreathers have hurled insults at me online and backed me up whenever I managed to string together enough marginally-logical sentences to form a column. For that, I thank you.
But I need to go now, to spread my journalistic wings and finally get paid reasonably to do what I do. It may sound clich?, but it’s not you; it’s my overblown sense of self-worth and need for health insurance.
It’s hard for me to say this, but we both need to move on.
We’ve experienced the best and the worst in each other. From your commitment to open discourse and diligence in the dissemination of relevant campus journalism to my penchants for peach schnapps and bad puns, I’ve accepted that we’ve had our differences.
You weren’t like the others, though, you have to understand. The journalism school? How could I ever compare you to that Twitter tutorial? Who ever found inspiration on an RSS feed? Am I supposed to create a Google Alert for a soulmate, express my love through a series of smoothly-designed infographics? Never.
You’re surrounded by all these talented people with a deep love for fundamental truths and public service, whereas I’ve been known to consider string cheese a reasonable meal. You deserve better. And if not better, then at the very least someone more enthusiastic about the digitized future of the craft and the death of print journalism.
This isn’t to say we can’t still be close, though. We can bond over our mutual dislike for a certain student organization masquerading as an independent newspaper. And when you face said “newspaper” on the football field, the softball diamond or the newsstand, remember; they put themselves through that embarrassment without compensation.
Maybe someday, years from now, I’ll open up a Google Doc and wonder if you’re looking at the same one.
So goodbye, Badger Herald; may your ledes be descriptive and your headlines ever-concise. And should we ever cross paths again, remember me not for my consistently missed deadlines, but rather my biting commentary entirely reliant on puns.
It’s been real, Badger Herald, and you’ll always be close to my heart, but it’s time we offend other people. I’ll not soon forget you, or my editors who so valiantly put up with my bullshit.
BH4LIFE.
Jake Begun ([email protected]) is a senior majoring in history and journalism.
