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Spite, December 1998
Dearest Spite:
We were, in a word, dismayed to learn that Adam Jones, whose opinion means ever so much to us, was less than enthralled with the activities of the Penn State Monty Python Society. We wept openly for the better part of a minute when we read that Jones, although terribly decent enough to grace us with what we suspect was his presence and attend a Python meeting, did not enjoy our celebration of Spam Fest ’97. Rather, he found the whole thing a colossal bore and waste of his no doubt precious time, judging us guilty of the sort of "mindless drudgery" with which we can only assume he is well acquainted.
We were deeply, oh so very deeply saddened by this and naturally worried that the three or four other people who might accidentally read Mr. Jones’ review would reach the same conclusion and avoid the Monty Python Society like the proverbial plague. After all, if we are so despised by someone of such self-proclaimed intelligence, what chance do we stand with the unwashed masses of Penn State?
And yet, we cannot help but also feel a strange sense of gratitude toward the editors of Spite for printing Mr. Jones’ inimitable choice of words. Because, let’s be honest, it is refreshing to be put in one’s place by someone of such journalistic prowess and discriminating taste. It’s nice to have the order of the universe neatly sorted out for you by a reporter of Mr. Jones’ caliber and to be reminded that, as Jones himself so eloquently put it, "it’s a tough world, you bastards."
Oh yes, some may scoff or think us insincere. They may lamely attempt to sully Mr. Jones’ good name, claiming that he’s little more than a backbiting, egotistical troglodyte with too much time on his hands and too few living cells in his brain. A man with a dour disposition and an unhealthy fetish for explosives. They might even have the nerve to suggest that, judging by reactions from the Homecoming Parade and Student Involvement Fair, most people actually seem to appreciate the Monty Python Society and its humor.
What they fail to consider, of course, is Mr. Jones’ apparently central argument: that "people are, more often than not, worthless..."
How can you argue with that particular brand of genius?
But for those not half as gifted as Mr. Jones, the Monty Python Society invites you to attend its last meeting of the semester on December 3 (7 PM in 204 Sackett) and judge for yourselves. And Mr. Jones, if you too would like to attend, we’ll try to include some pretty explosions to keep you occupied this time.
Sincerely,
Fred Coppersmith
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