Dear Sara Phillips, light of my life:
Oh, Sara, you really are swell. We are all so happy that your incredible 900-word letter to the editor last issue took up practically an entire page – wow, you enlightened us beyond cosmic belief. No fact, all rants and mean, evil words of jealousy and rage. Really, you are so profound, insulting your fellow “clamorous cluster of Canes” and poor Felipe Yanez, who happens to be a renowned and highly-regarded UM student who’s just trying to make a living and give you a bit of leisurely reading material (while you’re not being a Negative Nancy and a sick sad human being who enjoys inflicting pain on others).
Sara, dear, please allow me to give you a few words of advice for the next time you consider writing another letter to the editor:
To put it simply, sweetheart, you’re suffering from a troubling case of cognitive dissonance: you want so badly to be noticed, to be heard, to be accepted and received well by your peers, but your self-destructiveness, stubbornness and cold heart will not allow you to go about that goal in a more positive, productive way.
It’s clear that you want to write something in the paper; perhaps even be a regular writer – a contributor and a team-player. The Miami Hurricane is a student paper, is it not? You are a student, are you not? If you wanted so badly to be heard, you could have spoken to Joshua Newman, opinion editor, Chelsea Kate Isaacs, news editor, Pravin Patel, sports editor, or Dan Buyanovsky, EDGE editor.
They would, I’m sure, be happy to help you on your road to recovery – out of the darkness and on to the pathway to becoming an acclaimed writer.
But no. You couldn’t just talk to those people and say, “I want to write for the paper because I have many great ideas to share with our community.”
Instead, you had to make babies cry, and little happy flowers wilt and the sky went gray and Ike shook his head and said, “I’m not going to Miami, cause they already have a dark cloud over that town it’s called Sara Phillips.”
Sara, we all want to help. Just let us.
Love,
Michael Speedman