Aivarey – You fucking wish I was joking about this. I LOVED the Newsies strike. Did they have a terrible time? Yeah! Probably! But, you know what? My theater-kid ass LOVED Jeremy Jordan in the Newsies musical. What better song to perform as a solo piece than “Carrying the Banner.” Fuck yeah, Newsies. You slay those basic human rights.
Imke – I just love striking a pose! When it’s picture time — fit check, graduation photo, group pictures — I strike my favorite pose, and use my favorite tool: the bunny ears — the bunnyfication has officially started. I get into my bunny mode or, simply put, I give someone bunny ears.
August – I love lightning strikes! I’ve always wanted to try to place my phone under lightning to see if it could charge it completely in just one strike. Then again, it has a rubber shell so that would, like, make the lightning bounce off, right? That wouldn’t be good — what if it hit a bird? That would be sad. (Editor’s note: August studies economics)
Yonatan – My favorite strike by far is the Nexustentialism strike! They’re so committed that they’re not showing up to any events, even my birthday party! I thought they had just forgotten but when I texted them, they told me that was part of the strike, too! It just shows how deeply they care about this, and it’s fine because birthdays are more fun by yourself anyways.
Dylan – I love striking matches. I am a psychologically stable individual and can be trusted with matches, lighter fluid and flammable material. Watching matches burn is a great source of relaxation for me. I can be trusted around flammable material. When objects collapse, I feel that my sins, too, are collapsing into the void. I am psychologically stable.
Elise – I love the TA strike! It’s really cool when people are able to make livable wages and aren’t working like dogs! It would be sick if the university didn’t suck all their mental energy and knowledge, then rent-burden them. TAs forever. Strike on.
David – I love baseball strikes!!! Forget home runs, I love watching a perfectly placed ball deftly avoid the batter’s bat and collide with the catcher’s mitt. That tactile “THUD” that echoes through the stadium reminds me that I am alive! And, don’t get me started on balls.