Readers,
Recently I was told by the narrator of a book that “pious harpooners never make good voyagers—it takes the shark out of ‘em,” and I imagined a great white or tiger shark floating out from a praying harpooner’s body like a cartoon soul after death, and shaking its big shark head at their past host, and while I understand sharks here are being used metaphorically to mean being all dogged and mean in one’s whaling habits, I cannot prevent my mind from imaging worlds far greater than those which currently exist. Let me imagine a big cartoon shark, and let you imagine it too, and remember: you’ve got that shark in you.
We’ve got that shark in us too. Swap piety to the divine with that to any sort of pretentious dogma and you’ve got the Herald. Because we’re not chasing bloodlust or sensing electro-magnetic pulses with our snouts, but we’ve got that shark in us. A big, cartoon great white shark who crosses her fins and shakes her head at you when you act a fool, when you declare yourself aligned with an -ism and won’t shake from it, when you write something so navel-gazingly intellectual only you can understand, when you so tightly tangle yourself in the net of your own dogmatic intellect that all your limbs turn blue. The shark-soul can sniff out your intentions; she gets sad when they stink of self-importance.
And I know this to be true, because this week the Herald proves it. The whole issue smells delightful, of earnest artistic expression. Sophia Zhang trains her keen eye on the new Directed Studies competitor, Six Global Perspectives. Angel Ortiz considers the legacy of Charlie Kirk. Jaxon Havens boldly claims that Andrew Cuomo is not cunty. Gaby Ewart writes on the intimacy of fiction, Kamala Gururaja the art of fiction, Lilly Price LCD Soundsystem, Addy Gorton on her Notes app and spaghetti. Allie Gruber wrangles us.
As always, this week’s Herald is an eclectic array of many sharp minds let loose upon the page, free to dance and play. What connects them all? Each of our writers has that shark in ‘em. Nodding from within their souls, pumping its fins like little triumphant fists. The shark is rooting for you; don’t let her down.
Most Daringly,
Oscar and Will
