Who is the Weatherhuman? It’s one of life’s great mysteries, right up there with the fact that the word “lisp” has an “s” in it and why it took the food industry so long to invent baked chips. But don’t expect an answer or an identity in the coming words. That’d be no fun. Plus, anonymity has probably kept me from getting my ass kicked or being bitched out on multiple occasions, so I’m going to keep it going. Instead, for one day, I’m ditching the AP page and taking the Weather to new lengths. I guess you could say I’m literally thinking outside of the box. Ha! Get it, because I usually write in a box, and I said… dammit, never mind.

Sadly, I’m virtually out of time as the ‘Human, which sucks because I have so much more to teach you. I never even got to the debate over the spiciness of root beer, my theory about people who wear brown (what are they trying to hide?), or about how you should judge your significant other (hint: if they pour the cereal in after the milk, you need to end it). Nothing beats being able to climb on a soapbox every day, and I’m really going to miss it. I really can’t imagine another newspaper job that wouldn’t fire me for comparing Dumbledore to pedophiles, but this is life. One day you’re making subtle derogatory jokes for 10,000 readers, and the next you’re sitting on a park bench, watching the world around you and silently giggling at your political incorrectness while eating Club crackers and sipping rum out of a Batman thermos. Maybe I’ll start a blog or write a book. Who knows? What I do know is that while this experience has been great for my ego, it’s also been incredibly humbling, so it’d be kind of a dick move if I didn’t say thanks to a few people on the way out.

To everyone at the Nexus, I’m amazed that, for the most part, you managed to keep the ‘Human’s identity a secret. For a group that drinks so much and talks so much shit, you all really understand the concept of not giving up a source. You always hear about the power of the press, and on this campus we have that power, which is probably why the staff box is right next to the Weatherbox. Got to keep power next to power, right? I keep a hundred dollar bill in my front pocket for that very same reason. To my successor: Sorry I set the bar so high, but I know you’ll be great. To my editors, thanks for sticking up for me when there were haters. To the people I offended: I’d like to take this opportunity to sincerely not apologize. Relax! If life were meant to be taken so seriously, the Nazis would have won the war.

Then there are the rest of you. Colbert would call you the heroes, and I can’t say that I disagree. It’s not like I can go up to people and ask them what they thought of the Weather, so it was extremely gratifying to have so many random people show support without even realizing it. From the girl who asked me to introduce her to the ‘Human so she could hook up with him, to the somewhat creepy e-mails that said I was someone’s soul mate, I’ve enjoyed it all. While we’re on the topic of supporters, though, some of the guys who sent me e-mails might want to sit the next couple of plays out. I’m flattered, but let’s just say my thermometer aims a different direction. Awkward.

So who is the Weatherhuman? Well, I’ve always figured that if you paid close attention to the articles and columns in this paper, you could figure it out pretty easily. But maybe that’s where the fun lies. Identity-less is how it’s always been and how it remains. In the end, I think you should just consider me your conscience, free to say what you wish you could say publicly, and ask the questions to which you seek answers (by the way, the guy in the blue jacket’s name is Ken!). Somehow that’s been my job for the past year, and it’s the best one I’ve ever had.