"Please Put Al Cerda Out of Our Misery" (Special DVD Edition)

A letter from Zach Anderson

With special running commentary by Mr. Al Cerda

Hello, loyal legions of G-readers. It’s your old pal, Literary Editor Mr. Al Cerda. Recently, the G-office received the following letter from student Zach Anderson. Because we appreciate getting feedback and want to encourage more, we’re printing this letter. Of course, seeing as the letter was an attack on me, I couldn’t help but jump at the chance to offer up a rebuttal. So dispersed throughout the letter, you’ll find my asinine comments in italics. Sure, I could take the high road and write a formal response. But this way’s funnier.

Dear Editors,

I’ve always liked this type of intro. It’s familiar yet powerful.

Please get back whoever was writing Campus Crosshairs before. Cerda’s potty humor is even less appealing on the back page than in the "literary" section, where it was more easily avoided.

Actually, the back page is easier to avoid. Just close the magazine once you reach the personals. But you never know where Literary is going to pop up from week to week. Muwahahahahaha.

Oh, and as for your petty feud with the Spectrum, yeah, it sucks, but you guys can’t even spell nickel right.

Actually, back in the 19th century, shortly after the Civil War, the booming economy that was Buffalo began to gain fame as the "Nickel City." A trend quickly emerged in the city where people began to spell "nickel" as "nickle" to differentiate between native Buffalonians and trendy New York hipsters. This spelling was slowly phased out, however, as worldwide cultural influences demanded a standard set of spelling from the entire country. Collectively, the entire magazine staff opted for this oft-neglected version of the word, so as not to let the tradition completely die out.

C’mon, with spell check, how can you print 10,000 copies with a mistake like that? You’re as bad as they are.

For some odd reason, our spell check is now set to Ancient Greek. We don’t know how to fix it. We’ve tried calling Bill Gates and everything.

It’s like watching a bunch of Down syndrome kids scuffle--amusing for the first few seconds before it becomes utterly saaaad.

I couldn’t disagree more... Personally, I could watch them kids scuffle all day long. By the way, you misspelled sad. Shouldn’t have spell check caught that?

In fact, the only good parts of the March 13th issue were the boring political stories, and those were much too long and informative to mesh well with the rest of your magazine.

Hmm, let me see. The only good parts were boring stories? Well, we’ll try our best to accommodate this desire in the future.

One other thing: if you guys had any guts or balls or reasonable facsimiles thereof, you’d have a letters section.

Like the one we’re printing your letter in? Hey, we’ve printed the few letters we’ve gotten. We just don’t receive enough for a constant column.

Currently, the only feedback you offer your audience is sound bites in the personals, mixed in with all that cal.

Seeing as it’s the most-read section of the magazine, one would be a fool not to use the personals.

Need more convincing?

Of what?

Check your archives for examples of what a spectrum-load of fun they could be. I could write you a nasty-gram every week, and I’m sure I’m not the only one.

Go right ahead. It’s a barrel of monkeys.

The key of course is selective editing, to the point where the enraged letter writers feel compelled to storm the G office--that’s the level of antagonism you should aspire to. Think about it.

Okay, thought about it. Honestly, I think the problem lays with the fact that UB students are too busy to waste their time storming our office. And I can’t blame them. TNN has Miami Vice reruns.

The literary mailbox obviously isn’t overflowing; are you an insular enclave of resume-padders, shipping your work into the void, or a STUDENT magazine?

I’d like to issue a challenge. Anyone who isn’t happy with the Literary Section can come down to our office (114 Student Union). I’ll let you read all the submissions I’ve received. If you can convince me that any of them truly are good, I’ll print them.

Zach Anderson

I like it when people end their letters by signing their name. It’s a feel-good ending and gives closure.