Do you see something off
about this photograph? Do you merely recognize some co-eds have a good time, enjoying a
pregame before Linus, a large off-campus philanthropic party? Or do you spot something
lurking in the back? A strange, slightly upsetting expression. A dark hole of
rebellion. It’s THE FACE.

 

Here is my brief, one-on-one interview with myself attempting to answer all
the questions I’ve been getting about the underground phenomenon that is
quietly taking over the Wash U campus, one photo at a time.

 

What is “THE FACE”?

It is the photographical recording of my uncanny ability to
stretch my mouth with circus-like flexibility.

 

Why does it exist?

Girls love taking photos. I hate getting my photo taken.
It’s almost like retaliation. Are you trying to show all your friends at home
how great of a time you’re having with all your cool Wash U friends? Well, I’m
going to mess it up. I’m going to scare the shit out of them. STOP LYING TO
YOUR FRIENDS.

 

How did this all come to be?

I first realized my talents when a good friend of mine,
Emily Sky, a wondrously photogenic sophomore, decided to take a picture of us
on her iPhone when I was sitting in a chair in my suite. Frustrated with her
persistence, I rebelled, in one
fateful extension of my mouth creating a gigantic, appalling radius. Hysteria ensued
as we grappled with the sheer frightfulness of the photo. THE FACE was born.

 

Where is it going from here?

Hopefully billboards. Possibly it will be a new graffiti
trend like the Andre the Giant OBEY posters and t-shirts. As of now, I’m just
trying to overcompensate for the painfully monotonous Wash U social life. So I
often whip out the face in inappropriate social situations, like during Linus
pregame, or during philanthropy events.

 

One last question: what can fit in that eerie, monstrous abyss?

Probably small children. Possibly some of the shorter, more
petite girls who I am friends with on campus. Souls.

 

My word of advice: look out for THE FACE on newsfeeds near
you. And don’t be afraid; rather, embrace the grotesque. Enjoy the disgust. And
maybe one day you’ll realize the benefits of not giving a fuck.

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