Warning: This column is not intended to be humorous. If you find that it is amusing or enjoyable in any way, I express my sincerest apologies. False. I am never sincere.
But I do have some good news and some bad news.
The good news: You found out who I am today by seeing my picture.
The bad news: You had to look at my picture. My apologies in advance to those of you who haven’t looked, but I have my excuses. I didn’t apply hardly any foundation the morning of that picture, and my hair just would not cooperate. Not to mention the fact that I didn’t have my morning mocha-cappu-latte-double-cino wide-mouthed with whipped cream. I’m not sure if that’s how I like my coffee or my women, but no matter what, it sounds delicious.
The best news: You only had to see this picture for one column. Twelve of 13 ain’t too bad as far as aesthetics go.
For some reason, it’s becoming tradition for Monday, Monday to drop a hint about its true identity in the last anonymous column. I’ve gotta assume that 100 percent of the four people who read my column have also read “The Da Vinci Code,” so if you guys are at all like Robert Langdon, you must search high and low for hidden clues. What kind of a Joker would I be if I didn’t leave you a clue to my identity in the second-to-last column?
Inside anagrams reside the purest secrets of the universe. This column’s title anagrams to “The Joker’s Goodbye.” “Mother-in-law” becomes “Woman Hitler.” One I know oh-so-well, “dormitory” becomes “dirty room.” “Alcohol Law Enforcement” becomes “horrible establishment that attempts to destroy happiness and ruin fun all across the city.” Well, maybe that one’s not perfect, but you know what they say about perfection; it’s in the eye of the beholder. Or maybe that’s narcissism? I dunno, I’m not too hot on my clichés.
“The Joker seems insane, Anabel” was the closing to my column last week. It anagrams quite nicely to… drumroll… “Ben Jones is the real namesake.” I worked on that anagram for about as long as most English majors spend on their theses. So, about 10 minutes.
The whole point of my column was to remind everybody that you don’t really need a point. I didn’t want to inform you about life-changing and life-threatening issues that should be so important to a bunch of kids whose favorite parts of the week are those they don’t remember (rightfully so). Well, mostly because I don’t know what those issues are….
I chose “The Joker” as my name because I’m using my Duke education to train for the circus. Many days out on the quad, I attempt to juggle, ride a unicycle or tame lions, among other things. Becoming a bearded lady takes more out of you than you may think. Not to mention the time commitment and mental fatigue.
Except for having the best basketball team in the country, this Spring has been pretty depressing. I somehow attended more than half of my classes and with my exam schedule, I still have stuff to do in May. Not to mention that despite my best efforts, I’m going to come away with a 4.0. Before you interrupt, you should know that my 4.0 is cumulative, not averaged. There’s no feasible way for me not to get a C, two Ds and an F. It’s sad that no matter how much you beg and skip class, some professors just really won’t let you fail out.
I really am gonna miss my old pal The Joker, though. I hope you guys know I didn’t write all that stuff. I was just the outlet for his crazily sane ideas. You see, he’s not a monster. He’s just ahead of the curve. And as we all know, Jokers are wild.
Ben Jones is the real namesake.
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