Alright folks, the Rearguard is finally done with its three-week hangover, and has decided to grace PSU with its existence once again. Some say better never late, but I say that’s a bunch of crap, as we all know it’s better late than never.

First things first. The Spectator recently published an article stating in no uncertain terms that we here at the Rearguard suck the big one. That’s their opinion, and they have the same right to an opinion as everybody else who owns an asshole. Did I spend somewhere between three and seven hours crying in the bathtub after reading it? Yes I did. Will I have to undergo extensive psycho-therapy to undo the psychological damage caused by reading something about myself that wasn’t totally awesome? More than likely. But I’m not going to continue to beat myself about it, and the good news is that my hair hasn’t been this soft in years.

Okay Spectator, you got us. We’re not 100 percent serious about everything we do here. Life is too short to not have fun. But don’t let that confuse you – there is method to our madness. The Rearguard practices more than scatology. We believe that satire and humor are excellent weapons with which to defend against the ridiculous nature of the universe. Unfortunately, there can be collateral damage. People get offended. Luckily the feeling of being offended is not fatal, and the symptoms can usually be cured by the passing of time, or the writing of a letter to the editor.

Readers, we may not the be the bastion of journalistic excellence that the Spectator feels that we should be, but you should trust us anyway. We hold the secrets of the universe, and if you read carefully, you too could view the world with our clarity of vision.

But if you’re into the kind of outfit that does crazy things like putting out issues on time, fulfilling their mission statement, and doing “research” for their articles, go ahead and pick up a copy of the old Spectator. It’s free. They do a nice job, and I don’t judge for taste when I’m trying to appear unjudgmental.

The best part of the article in the Spectator was that it made me feel as if I were the editor of an edgy publication. That’s a good feeling. It’s a bit hollow, considering that, in the grand scheme of things, we are about as edgy as a round rock. It’s a wild and wooly world out there kids, and if you can’t take what we’re laying down, you might want to check for an emergency exit on your bubble.

But don’t you change, Spectator. Because we need you. Same with everyone else who is offended, disgusted, or otherwise put-off by our publication. We need you all, because without you, we can’t have any fun. And that’s one standard we refuse to sink below. -Ed.