The Book Club of the Apocalypse

Dear Silver Bat (and friends, all),

As this is the last year of our existence (not even a full year. Time's a ticking!), I think it's best that we become as cultured as possible so that, when that eventful day is upon us, we can take it in stride rather than poop ourselves (oh, I mean, "defecate") with fear. That said, isn't it about time that we created a common connection betwixt our two worlds (friends, all included) with a book club to end all book clubs? I believe yes. And so you believe yes.
But what book could be the opener to this club? What great work of literary might could possibly be worthy of the BCA (Book Club of the Apocalypse, duh)? I submit the following, along with my review, as our first work:

I DO NOT GET IT!

And so it begins,

CL

The Future...OF OUR FUTURE!

Bat of Silver,

So here's an article I wrote that they'll never publish.

In regards to the article,"USU club swim team powered by passion," I would like to point out a troubling fact. The future is upon us. What John Henry learned by having his heart explode, we can learn less painfully. That is, the age of men (and ladyfolk) powered by passion is over. It's time to make the upgrade to steam power.
BYU and U of U have already made the switch, and their swimmers are annihilating everyone who dares oppose them. It helps that they are swimming in an endless fuel source (because water becomes steam when you heat it, according to Wikipedia and also common sense and also my mom, who is always right).

This...is the future.

What USU doesn't yet realize is that the true power of mankind (or ladyfolkkind) rests in its ability to innovate, thus overcoming its own weakness and prolonging its mortality a day or so more until the inevitable occurs and we die, miserable, sad, and alone.

But, on that note, look how unmiserable, unsad, and unalone we would all be with our Steampunk friends!

Lung Cancer? Not possible if you're smoking steam!

We will never outswim a dolphin with passion alone, but with steam-powered jets and a well-placed harpoon, we have a chance. The same goes for these other swim teams. Folks, I am not a fit man. But even I, steampunked out with turbines and a monocle (because they all wear monocles, look it up), could destroy Michael Phelps in a 50 meter butterfly sprint.

These things burn your ears like crazy, but it's worth it because they are the most pimp.

The point I'm getting at here is that the days of the strong heart and will to win are over. It's time we start looking to the future of swimming and of civilization. Steam power is that future.

The Beginnings of a Wonderful War

Dear Silver Bat,

Here's an editorial response that I wrote and that the University almost published. I quote, "We'll publish it if nothing else comes in." Enjoy.

In regards to the article "Biggest Loser returns to campus," I would like to state that the rumors are false and that my former roommate, Brad, has not in fact returned. Call it misinformation or wayward gossip, but he remains at BYU, seeking out his dreams of becoming the biggest loser of all time.
It is understandable that you may think you recognized him on campus as there is another anemic ginger who can be seen prowling about campus, searching for unwilling victims to tell all about his blossoming career in the music industry. But this boy is in no way comparable to my former roommate, whose very presence sucks the coolness out of a room. 

"I wish I wasn't such a loser...BUT I AM!"

The once and future king of lame was in town several weeks ago, which explains the recent lack of extreme motocross and heavy metal around town. But the lasting malaise of his visit should not be misconstrued as his presence when it is only the lingering echoes of a wasted life.
If he does return for an extended period, there will be a flash of puce light on the southern horizon and the sound of New Wave music rising up over the homes of Logan's people. You will know when the biggest loser has returned by the sudden smell of sadness and bad eggs in the air and a twinge in your left thigh that will make you remember your worst birthday party (the one where Jenny blew out your candles and Artie pushed you off the trampoline).

"Maybe if I artsy up my photo, friends will follow!"

(They will not)

As for now, and the foreseeable future, there is no looming threat. Rest easy, citizens of Logan. I will let you know the information as it comes in.  

Any sightings should be e-mailed directly to me under the subject heading: "DOOD!!!1! Chump alert!!"

Thank you for your cooperation.

That face can mean only one thing: He has realized that he will be forever alone and is about to burst into tears.

In conclusion, you are a loser. Your move.

Sincerely and with love,

CL