"Aw hell naw!" exclaims my classmate as this week's edition of Berkeley High's "The Jacket" is delivered to our class, "Man this shit got me fucked up. Ain't no way I'm gonna read this." He ravenously flips through the freshly inked pages until his eyes befall the latest crossword puzzle. The class remains unperturbed. Not a head swiveled, not a whisker lifted. It would appear as though my fellow peers are in agreement when it comes to the Jacket. I too relate in many ways to this sentiment, however I found there to be a tiddly little question gnawing at my conscience. "Is the crossword the only worthwhile segment of The Jacket?". I interviewed many a student, each of whom had a wide array of stances; From the couples demonstrating PDA in the halls to the freshmen running for school lunch, everyone had their two cents on the matter.
"When you're in a world's blandest article writing challenge and your opponent is The Jacket," quipped a senior, while widening his eyes, implying that winning the challenge would be impossible. "What kind of change do you wish to see with the coming edition?" I questioned in response. It was too late however, as I'd narrowly missed his attention, which was now intently divided between his game of Clash Royale and the crossword. Woefully I returned to my pursuit wherein I reexamined the latest edition. To my surprise the articles were masterfully written. Their cadence impeccably captured the free and untamed vigor of the teenage mind, not to mention their subjects. Inessence I believe the root of our crossword issue to be far from one of bland penmanship. Rather the culprit at hand is one that stems from passion and skill. In turn I am left with nothing to give, except "Dagnabbit Nick McGlashan keep 'em coming!"