A great man once said “I am immortal. I have inside me blood of kings. I have no rivals. No one can be my equal.” That man was Freddie Mercury of the great rock band Queen, and although this particular lyrical prophesy (if taken literally) turned out to be tragically misguided, I took the statement to heart recently, fondly remembering when the song was used as the theme for TV’s “Highlander,” starring the enigmatic Adrian Paul.
Now I’m not saying that I wear spandex unitards while rhythmically grinding my nubile frame against a microphone stand, I was just reminded of the twilight of Freddie’s career, when he bravely fought deathly disease against all odds. If only all of us could end our careers with such dignity and grace as did Mercury.
Sadly, I will end my turbulent tenure as Sports Editor of the Mirror with all the grace and dignity of Apocalypse Now’s Colonel Kurtz (that’s not a good thing, by the way).
Now, this doesn’t mean I’m just going to start reciting the more revered poetical works of T.S. Elliot either. Fortunately for Mirror readers, Mike Pignataro is playing the Captain Willard role in this little diabolicity, and will take over as Sports Editor forthwith.
I will use what little space I have left, to pompously pontificate on any number of things not even ancillarily related to sports or Fairfield athletics.
First, I hereby fully endorse the creation of a Palestinian state, as does our outgoing Editor-In-Chief and Commentary Editor. We believe it is time for all the brothers and sisters of the world to coexist peacefully and in accord with one another.
Also, I think it’s time that someone besides Marlon Brando and I took the idea of phone condoms seriously. These nifty disposables would make it easier for people to protect themselves from germs and bacteria on public payphones, and production should be started immediately.
I would also like to take this opportunity to implore all students to make every effort to try to learn how to play the dijideru. This Aboriginal musical instrument is one of the hidden wonders of the world, and it offers its players a satisfaction that is most delightful.
So what can we say lies ahead in all this? Will the snail ever make progress on its journey along the edge of a straight razor? Will the brilliant duo known as “Meat Nuggets” achieve international musical superstardom, as is their right? I don’t know. From now on, I’ll take my orders from Fidel Castro, working diligently to usurp the new world order neo-capitalism currently eroding any sense of morality or justice. The horror. The horror.
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