OP-ED: If You Were Really My Friend, You Wouldn’t Make Me Go to Your A Cappella Concert

Approximately twice a year, many Cornellians must rethink some of their life decisions. This often occurs at the end of the semester, and is often centered around their friendships with people in a cappella groups. But recently, I’ve come to the conclusion that if these people were REALLY my friends, they would not ask me to come to their concert in the first place.

It’s a tale as old as time: first semester, you meet new friends, and some of them happen to be good at singing. Soon they decide to join an a cappella group, and then they fall off the grid for three months. All of the sudden, as the semester is coming to a close, you’ll get a text from them every day.  

These texts are nearly always underhanded. “Don’t forget my show is this Friday!” (I can’t possibly forget because you’re texting me every five minutes to remind me.) “Tell our other friends to come too!” (We both know there’s a reason they haven’t bought a ticket yet.) “We’re almost sold out!” (A straight up lie: they reserved the biggest venue on campus.) “Tickets are more expensive at the door!” (Is that a threat?)

Tell me, is this how “friends” act? Would a true friend ruin your favorite song? Or make you waste 2 hours of your life each semester? To all of my “friends” in a cappella groups, I beg of you, please, spare me. If you value our relationship, just ask literally anyone else to come.

But the truth of the matter is, when it comes down to it, there is no such thing as a “friend” in an a cappella group.

OP-ED: It’s Time to Deport A Cappella Groups to Ithaca College

Perhaps you have seen their strange advertisements. Perhaps one of them has approached you, pushing their product. God forbid, perhaps a “friend” has dragged you to one of their cult-like ceremonies, and charged you money for the privilege! This problem is top of mind for many Cornellians. The instrumentless menace, the unaccompanied scourge, the A CAPPELLANS, have unleashed a series of torturous concerts, and they are not through. They never will be. 

I ask you: remains there a single Cornellian untouched by this blight? Do we want innocent first-years exposed to this, hurt by this, for years to come? Do you, dear reader, want to deal with another wave of concerts ever again?

Fortunately, there is hope. As Cornell carries this curse, so too is it blessed—for a solution lurks nearby. Many Cornellians have had the misfortune of spotting this wretched place. Perhaps, while browsing Olin’s stacks or strolling atop the slope, you have noticed in the distance two unsightly towers and a grotesque spire. That, my friend, is Ithaca College. 

Most Cornellians only ever think of this peculiar institution when we encounter one of their students in the Commons or on a bus—and then quickly forget about it. Unfortunately, our current problem requires us to learn a bit about them. You see, Ithaca College is largely a music school. Whereas we rightly judge the A CAPPELLANS as strange and dangerous, Ithaca College and its students welcome, encourage, and support these deviant beatboxers and ooh-ahhers. I will not claim to know what goes on in their minds to bring them to such a conclusion, but, needless to say, it is twisted and dark.

A solution to our woes, then, presents itself. I say, for the good of Cornell and Cornellians, expel the A CAPPELLANS! Let them live amongst their wicked brothers and sisters!

Perhaps the humanitarians reading this are wary. Friends, I assure you this solution is best for everyone. We Cornellians will be free from this scourge, but the A CAPPELLANS, too, will be happier at their new home. No longer will a majority of their concert audience be there by coercion—as hard as that is to imagine! To anyone concerned about the plan’s feasibility: it is less than an hour’s walk from Central Campus to Ithaca College. Given this geographical blessing, the A CAPPELLANS can make their way on foot, requiring no investment from the university. And for those of you—if you do exist—who do not take issue with the plan’s execution but rather with its objective, I say: leave with them! If you harbor sympathies for these monsters, follow them to Ithaca College, that dark den of sin. We shall see how long your sympathy lasts.

My good Cornellians, this plan requires no money, no university resources. All it requires is bravery. President Pollack, be brave! See the people’s will carried out! Expel the infernal A CAPPELLANS once and for all!

OP-ED: There’s No Chance I’m Buying a Ticket to Your A Cappella Show Until You Come to My Show

This post is sponsored by the Skits Sketch Comedy Troupe, the oldest sketch comedy group at Cornell. Their fall show is this Friday at 9 PM in Barnes Hall, and you can buy $5 tickets at the door or by messaging their Facebook page https://www.facebook.com/CornellSkits/.

As always, there’s no chance in hell that I will walk all the way to Call Auditorium for your a cappella concert unless I see you in the audience at my comedy show this Friday at 9pm.

Oh, you hate fun and don’t want to sit through an hour of comedy? Then good luck getting me to venmo you the $5 for a ticket, cause we both know your mediocre collective screechings are a far cry from my group’s carefully planned, cutting-edge comedic talent.

It’s fine that you text me for the first time all year advertising your stupid show. I have no need for your friendship. I’ll even be doing the same, but for an awesome show. But if you’re inviting me to a juvenile Facebook event whose cover photo doesn’t even fit Facebook’s dimensions, you’d better make damn sure you’ve already clicked “going” to my thoughtfully-crafted event that I sent you last week.

You know, Miranda tried to convince me last semester that she came to the first part of my show, even throwing in a reference to one of our many hilarious jokes from the night. But Miranda seemed to not realize I always check tickets, so I knew she only saw a clip of the show from my Instagram story. So guess whose dance troupe performance had one fewer audience member? That’s right, Miranda’s. And I heard like no one else went, anyway.

I don’t want that sad, shameful event to happen to you. If you think of my show as a wasted hour, know that a full year of my life will be sucked away from listening to you bellow a song from some overplayed pop album. But hey, I’m a woman of my word: Come to my show Friday at 9pm in Barnes Hall and I’ll return the favor.