By: A Boy

It is the age old debate, a debate that only recently women are allowed to enter: which gender is superior. Who does g-d love more? (I’m pretty sure he answered that one right from the beginning. At least that is what my right rib is telling me. Or is that my sister talking?) In any given category, men simply have the balls to win.

Let’s also consider who g-d decided should sit on the sideline for months at a time, completely out of commission. That’s right, women. A man cannot have a child simply because we cannot afford to have men out of the workforce for that long.

In the toughest tests of endurance, it is said to “take it like a man,” not “take it like a woman.” If we took it like a woman, us stronger gentleman would have to cry when in pain, play sports at half speed, and learn to not eat on a regular basis. No, we take it like a man.

Let’s think of famous authors. Shakespeare, Dickens, Faulkner, any Greek author… Hey, at least some of those men were nice enough to have a couple girl characters. I’m pretty sure the wise Shakespeare did not trust girls enough to play the role of a girl. No fear, Shakespeare, a man can do a better job of playing a woman than a woman. I’m looking at you, Dustin Hoffman in Tootsie.

I know something girls might be better at: fashion. They have Yves St. Laurent, Ralph Lauren, and Calvin Klein. Oh wait, those are all males.

Girls do have beautiful voices. I mean, let’s think of the world’s best music. You got the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, Queen (no girls in that band, despite its name), Pink Floyd, and how could I forget: Hilary Duff.

Remember this historic election when a woman became president? No? Well, that’s because a man won. Again.

Speaking of historical, does it bother you that it is significant the first time a woman does something a man has done years, if not centuries, ago?

It’s a man’s world. Those of you on the moody, menstrual cycle side, just be happy you’re living in it.

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According to a recent study from Australia, “Girls are 92.4% more likely to get into uni and end up making a lot more money.” Sorry, no offense, but it’s true. Along with these findings, it has also been statistically proven that boys are 74% more likely than girls to develop bacterial infections that would otherwise be eliminated by even semi-regular use of soap.

When questioned about his thoughts on this statistical fact, Bam Slock offered no defense, instead abandoning the integrity of his entire gender by admitting that, “Seventy-four percent seems a bit low.” Not only are boys dirty, but apparently they also lack loyalty.

Science, invented by Marie Currie (a woman), also favors females. Biology teacher Evan Joy commented, “It is interesting that natural selection has worked out so poorly for males. No matter how many generations of human beings come and go, boys still smell like crap.”

In a pathetic attempt at dissing girls, Stu Minkus, a particularly scrawny, pitiful excuse for a human, notes most directors are male. But Hollywood, named after a girl and a tree, is dominated by gorgeous females. Minkus fails to realize that this display of disloyalty (male directors casting pretty females, and not males, as the primary attraction) is unavoidable. Males cannot “sell sex” because they aren’t good looking enough.

So boys are not only uglier and weaker as a species than girls, but they also aren’t even smart enough to come up with good reasons for why they don’t suck. Boys are smelly (just consult the boy’s locker room), ugly (see: Michael Jackson), weak (Minkus), and not as smart as girls. Plus, girls get to take credit for Latika (Freida Pinto) from Slumdog Millionaire, arguably the most gorgeous human being ever to walk the planet. Alex Miller, male traitor, said, “I love Latika. She is the best thing that ever happened to this world. I hate people who don’t love Latika.” Finally, the article about how boys are better was written by a raging sexist.

Another study from the U.S. found that, “Frankly, boys are 98% worse than girls.”

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I am reluctant to use the word person in my address because clearly you are something less than human. Let me extend a hearty congratulations to you, mister, who commits petty thief in the gym locker room so as to support your juvenile drug habit.

Sorry, maybe I am being too harsh. Maybe you are stealing because you have fallen on hard times. You live in Deerfield—times must really be tough. Clearly you need to gain the twenty dollars from stealing my calculator so you can feed your family. It is not as if Deerfield High School, a community able to donate nearly $100,000 in these tough economics times to people we have never met, would be able to donate $20 dollars to one of our own. What am I saying? You are not one of us. You are a man lurking in the shadows, waiting for students who still have faith left in the goodness of humanity to leave their lockers unlocked, corrupting your very soul for a few extra dollars. Of course, that is assuming you still have a soul.

Let me apologize if the thief happens to be a woman. In that case, you really have problems. You are stealing things out of the boy’s locker room! Everything I said so far has been too nice if this devil spawn knave happens to be a woman. You, my friend, probably never had a soul.

I can hear your raspy voice mumbling, “But I could have taken other things from your backpack, but I didn’t.” Besides the fact you probably don’t deserve to speak the English language, or make noise at all, I am glad you can find the moral strength to steal, just not steal everything. It takes a real hero to murder a man, but not to rob his stuff. Way to go.

It’s a nice calculator, a Ti-84 silver edition. It was a gift from my great grandma. She’s dead now. I would be fine knowing you are at least using her gift for good, but there is no way you are a person capable of using a calculator. You are an imbecile. You are blessed to live in a giving community, but all you do is take. Hopefully, one day someone else will do the taking: taking you to prison.

Yours truly,
Samuel David Block

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Lily Turner is your typical well-rounded, brown nosing Senior Advisor. She was having another typical weekend, hanging out with friends, stalking her crush on Facebook, and trying another new diet. She decided she looked thin enough to go to a local party, hoping her surprising presence would cause a big impact, starkly contrasting her petite waistline. It was all turning out great, until an even bigger surprise turned around and hit her right in the face.

“Hi Lily,” said a barely audible, smiling freshman. Unable able to hear him over the blasting music, which the DJ was playing at an affordable entry fee of two dollars a person, Lily started to see her life come full circle. Standing in front of her was Ben Coble, that boy from her freshmen advisory.

It was the same boy who asked her on the second day of school, with a wink, if it was weird for a freshman boy to ask a senior girl to homecoming.

“This is awkward,” mouthed a clearly stunned Ms. Turner. After dropping a few choice expletives, but before Lily could uphold her leadership position, Ben wrapped his sweaty arms around her—creating the most unbearable five-second hug of her life. Well, at least it was the most unlikely embracement since the hugging game.

“Speaking of the hugging game,” though Lily, “Ben was only nine years old when I was in 7th grade. He probably didn’t even like girls. Hey, who the hell is throwing water around?!”

Stuck between a wall of crazed dancers and an awkward place, Lily would have traded anything for a rock. Or even a hard place. Hug over, it was up to her to make the next move. She thought back to the hardcore training she participated in to become a Senior Advisor. Lily had seen videos on how to discern suicidal maniacs, bridge the diverse student body here at Deerfield, and how to play Scattergories. Nowhere did she watch the “freshman at a Senior party video.”

Lily, like many Americans these days, decided to cross party lines. She stepped out of the backroom, filled with the sophisticated kids who shouldn’t be at this kind of party anyways, and into the grindfest. Behind her was Ben. And her dignity.

There are some nights best forgotten. Thank goodness psychology teaches us all our memories are false, littered with misinformation, and essentially worthless. So goodbye Friday the 13th party, goodbye barriers, and hello seeing that freshman again in class on Monday.

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You may recognize me as Alabama State’s galloping star forward. Though we lost in the play in game, and my upset special Morehead State (founded by DHS alumna Aaron) lost to Louisville by twenty billion, it was soooo obvious Cleveland St. If you didn’t see that coming, then you should just go kick a horse. Or a man named Sims.

Hail to the chief. Not every school can sting like the ASU Hornets, but the S. F. Austin Lumberjacks really know how to chop wood. Too bad they don’t know how to play basketball. No matter, my champion pick remains the same: watch for George Mason to sneak into the tournament and win it all.

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