By Dominique Blain
You know what us lowly poo-flinging monkey at the Eyeopener enjoy? Our rights. You know what we enjoy even more?
Exercising them. As such, for the 24th year in a row, you can look forward to the Eyeopener‘s parody issue on the stands next week.
Some might expect the Eyeopener to cower behind its racks this year and not dare walk down the precariously joke-paved halls of Ryerson again.
After all, media worldwide haven’t exactly been getting pats on the back for exercising their rights lately.
Not to mention that the last time the Eyeopener published a parody, the holier-than-thou powers of this politically correct (and, we suspect, anally retentive) universe threw a hissy fit, stomped their feet real hard, and yelled, “We don’t like it!” as they attempted to destroy us with their death-ray eyes.
But we have faith in our belief system. Prayers to our Dear Lord Point TwoBee of the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms (Everyone has the “freedom of thought, belief, opinion and expression, including freedom of the press and other media of communication”) have not let us down or astray. (Well except for that one time when we may have libelled ourselves by printing a story about a kid who was out of court but no one’s tried to sue us, so I guess our prayers have been answered.)
Though the Man tries to take us down with his mythical ‘inalienable right to not be insulted,’ we prevail. We insult when we must. And of course, we spend the ensuing hours cackling in glee over glittering glasses of Pino Grigio from the Ram in the Rye. Of course, I jest. We’re just life-loving reporters, editors, photographers and students who enjoy laughing and long walks on the shores of Lake Ontario, and dislike corked wine and members of the Pooper Party, which is lead by the Man.
During our respective stays at the Eyeopener and future places of employment (yeah, I’m working on assumption here), we will continue fighting for our right to report the truth — whether through reporting or parody, remaining grammatically correct to the end. (Is that a run-on sentence?)
Hey, the Man. We’re the Eyeopener bunch. We live by the adage that She who laughs evilly last, laughs evilly loudest. And for the record — I don’t just have one hell of an evil laugh; I also have the loudest one for kilometres.