Lay down and kiss the earth I tread, peasant.

Another year, another leading lady in the Union lost to a ‘greater cause’. Far be it for Talley to draw parallels, but the Union, an otherwise ignoble gateway drug to self-reverential masturbation, seems as directionless as last year. Having opted to abandon the Union at the birth of a new academic term, Fiona Hammond has left them exactly how they deserve to be – alone. From one vital organ to another: smooth move, Hammond.

For now, the blind children leading the blindly faithful will draw less of my ire than usual – for I am in mourning. Talley is lamenting the loss of his favourite watering hole, the UCD Common Room. Some of Talley’s fondest memories were conceived behind its doors: one rambunctious evening there was spent as Farrah Fawcett and I did cocaine off President Thomas Murphy’s back (paid for, of course, on the account of the honourable Literary & Historical Society). Yes, in Talley’s eternal youth I dabbled, on occasion, with more than one of Charlie’s Angels.

Deeks, however, the vile, base trickster, has committed a mortal felony, allowing Brady-era corporatocracy to flourish at the expense of a lively spirit of comradery. The man has always appeared to me polished, cold, tricky, ambitious and bad. Though espousing the virtues of cooperation, the man of UCD seldom shows anxiety in trampling the spirit of our community. This Regent cares little for those over whom he dares to assert rule. Those behind this most disturbing plot are but silk stockings of filth and should be flung from the towers most high unto and forever remaining upon the bent poles which bare the flag of the Fifth Republic – an unequivocal message of embarrassment.

July’s missive that this campus will once more play host to a barrage of construction crews is more a stake to the heart than a jolt to the system. A Centre less ‘creatively designed’ might have won more praise among its scholarly body – a statue of yours truly might equally have been well received. As is said, youth is the time when we are most honest, and so the resident scholars of this fair campus would be wise not to expect much of their aged overlords.

Alas, one can always find solace in the misery, of what is the new plague scourging this campus known as “Freshers”. These entitled, cappuccino-sipping hipsters make Talley want to break out in contagious boils. How and ever, when they come to realise that they’ve wasted a heavy lump sum just to ingratiate themselves on groups of former plague rats, only to fall flat on their face and be left without a committee title next May, Talley will have the last laugh. Tally always has the last laugh.

Talley-out!