I love getting phone messages. You know, you go out somewhere, you come

back, and there’s a message waiting for you. It makes me feel good, because

that means that even though I was out somewhere hanging out with people,

there were other people that wanted my time and attention too. It’s a pretty

good ego boost.

What’s not cool however, is hearing threats on my machine. Sandwiched right

between a message from my grandmother and one from a friend of mine was a

lovely little diatribe. It follows in full. I warn the gentle reader that it

contains strong and offensive language.

“Dude you’re such – I can’t even believe, like, you left your name on the

thing. You’re such a fag for writing the article – straight up, why would

you even like say that about the entire school? Uh, I’m going to write a

rebuttal article ’cause I, uh disagree with everything you said. You’re

obviously a fag or else you wouldn’t say half the sh.t you said. Um, and

you’re just pissed because we get laid more and we get more chicks and you

probably didn’t get it anyway, so whatever. I don’t even know why you write

for this article because you have no writing skills anyway, ’cause I see

people who write good and you’re not one of ’em. Uh, you’re a loser [laugh]

and I hope you die. Alright? Peace.”

“New message, sent Monday, at 11:59 p.m. from, an outside caller. 41

seconds.”

Apparently this had something to do with the anti-SOM column I wrote last

week. Surely, this caller is a future Fortune 500 CEO. This brilliant

monologue should be inscribed in bronze and placed on the addition to the

SOM.

First of all, who do you think you are? Eminem? Homophobic remarks aren’t

cool, and are especially confusing since I’m straight. Second, nobody can

write good, Slappy. However, one can write well. I happen to think I am a

good writer who can write well. Ah, fun with grammar, even if it is

redundant. Thirdly, when making a threatening phone call, be sure to

enunciate and properly articulate your comments.

Next, if the SOM kids are off having so much sex, then why are they

bothering to call me? I’m assuming that, if one would be so inclined to

survey students at the University of Massachusetts, they would not be likely

to make threatening phone calls in the midst of coitus. So the simple action

of making a threatening phone call at night when, statistically speaking, is

when most sexual activity is going on, kind of disproves the argument that

SOM gets you laid.

So negating that, lets move on to the other reason that anonymous

threatening phone calls annoy me so much.

It’s just they’re so damn unoriginal.

That’s right. I said it.

Any moron with an opposable thumb can make a threatening phone call, so you

have to be distinctive. You have to make your threat “pop.” If your threat

is boring and commonplace, how is it going to paralyze me with fear? You

have to have pizzazz when you tell some one that you think that their

opinion is in error and wish to see that their vital functions cease.

C’mon people, if you’re going to tell some one that you “hope” they die, at

least use your imagination.

How would you like me to die? Would you yourself like to kill me, or are

you just praying for a random occurrence to take care of the job for you?

Let’s be serious here folks. If you’re going to threaten someone, you might

as well do it right. Leaving a rambling, incoherent and horribly

grammatically incorrect message on my machine is so boring. Whatever

happened to waking up next to a dead horse’s head? How about a fish wrapped

in a Daily Collegian? Am I the only one who watches the Godfather?

Why don’t would-be assassins take the time and effort to cut letters out of

magazines, paste them into a threatening message and mail it? Is a poisoned

pen pal too much to ask? Where’s the dedication? Huh? Society has truly

fallen low when instead of a receiving the bloody appendage, lets say a toe,

of a loved one in the mail, all you get is some one hoping that you die.

And hope? Hope isn’t even a strong word. Wish, want, need; these are words

that convey to the intended target that you indeed do not want them to live.

I blame TV, really. Its just sucked the imagination out of kids these days.

Gone are the days when threatening someone with bodily harm was a skill, a

craftsmanship executed by professionals with large hairy knuckles and deep

gravely voices. When you were threatened back in the day, by God, you were

threatened. You got scared. You wanted to appease the threateners so that

dire circumstances would not befall you.

But now?

“I hope you die.”

So, so weak. So uninspired. So ordinary. Is this the best the SOM can churn

out to oppose me?

“I hope you die.”

I mean, I know you Management folks aren’t really what we in the biz like

to call well read, but I would imagine that somewhere along the line you had

to take freshmen writing. Didn’t any of it sink in? Alright, maybe Ye Olde

English Writing Program was a while ago. Use some of the terminology that

you picked up in those classes of yours.

Tell me you’d like to see me “downsized.” There’s always the old stand-by

“terminated.” Here’s a good one: “Your current biological functions are no

longer needed at this time; we’ll keep your resume on file.” How about

“We’ve decided to discharge your soul from its current receptacle.” My

personal favorite: “We’re giving you the pink slip. . . of DEATH!”

Bottom line folks, if you disagree with someone, the intelligent, rational,

and might I add, civilized way is to convey to the other party that you have

another viewpoint. You make your argument against the other person’s

argument, not against the person. This is what separates us from the

squirrels. When they discuss politics, someone’s fur always ends up ripped

out. So, if you disagree with any of my views, that’s fine. It’s your right.

Just keep it civil, or if not, at least keep it funny. Just don’t decide my

right to life based on 90 lines of satire.

And I won’t base yours on a 41-second anonymous, unoriginal death threat.

Alright? Peace.