It is that time of year again, when our faithful rulers pass on the baton to the next generation. The difficult decisions for each dorm are left to a trusty board composed of a president, a vice president, a programming chair and a treasurer, but most importantly, the Great, the Mighty, the Communications Chair.
Venerated as the most important position in the U.S. after the President of the United States, this wise group of 20-year olds acts as the glue of our residential democracy. Its highly selective electoral process ensures that only the best of the best are permitted to take on this vital responsibility.
Communications chairs go through a very rigorous training process, which incorporates social psychology, rhetoric, organizational science, and quantum physics. Without these skills, the communications chairs would be completely unequipped to handle the challenges they face.
This week students are taking to the streets in ecstatic celebration of the third anniversary of the creation of the Communications Chair.
Not many students remain who personally experienced the horrible events of the infamous Catfight of September 2012, but legends of the catastrophe live on.
An expert historian, a senior with a B.S. in B.S., bravely volunteered to share his painful memories of the war. Our source has opted to go by the pseudonym Kevin due to fears of the ramifications of speaking out about such a controversial topic.
“What began as an easy way to pad one’s resume evolved into a bloody feud,” he explained.
According to our source, the president and vice president of Potomac House had a disagreement over whether to use RHA funds for a Halloween party or an apple-picking trip, and had no idea how to settle this.
Then, Rachel Turmeric, the president, gave Vice President Daniel Johnson the silent treatment, resulting in Johnson trash talking her behind her back.
“[Johnson] told his friend that Rachel was---I don’t know if I should say this--a controlling freak,” he whispered, looking behind him to make sure no one is listening. “It was a dangerous time in Potomac… nobody knew what was going to happen, to any of us. I was afraid to leave my room!”
At this point, he choked up, overcome with emotional turmoil over his memories.
“Obviously, there was absolutely no realistic way to resolve the conflict. The creation of a communications chair was clearly the only solution,” our source added once recovered from his terrifying flashback.
“I can’t imagine what the university would be like without our communications chair” admits Pamela Peters, dean of the university’s beauty school.
“None of the other four cabinet members are capable of communicating with each other or with other hall councils. Thank goodness we have a person who is specially trained and tasked to talk to other people.”
