The Flipside, contrary to popular belief, has been around for over four thousand years. And it will still be around next year. We’ve had our highs and our lows, and for those too young to remember, or those with anterograde amnesia, we are here to recap it for you.
Our first cover story was “Eve, Isn’t About Time You Put Some Clothes On?” It was a perspective story, written by g-d. He used very commanding diction. One memorable line read, “Thou shall put a leaf on your body, for my perfect eyes are tired of seeing your tree of knowledge tattoo. And I am going to put the Holy Grail back in Toronto, if you want to know.”
Things went ok after that. The Flipside came out every full moon. Noah really liked our headline, “Oops! G-d Forget to Teach People How to Float” and “Honey, I’m Taking the Kid to the Pool Today.”
Jesus was born. A lot of hoopla over that. We said some mean things, so the monk lunch ladies confiscated the paper. The dean priests said nobody was supposed to take it away, the student activity pope approved it beforehand. Whatever.
Some more stuff happened. The bubonic plague set in. That was a riot. The Dark Ages sucked. It was really hard to read The Flipside without light.
Sometime around then Guttenburg invented the printing press. The Flipside moved away from writing on tablets. And people.
The Catholic Church split. Headline: “Looks Like Somebody is Getting a Little Cross.”
Gambling became prevalent in Europe. Many Flipside writers took sabbaticals. They returned, however, and were oddly willing to work overtime.
“Abraham Lincoln Decides to Leave Before Play’s Final Act. Proves to be a Pretty Selfish Guy.”
“Taft Eats Press Secretary.”
“Chicago Fire Win Game, Burn City Down as Well.”
Tired of covering the black and white South Africa’s apartheid, The Flipside chose to print in color. We also felt it was logical to move our headquarters from Cape Town to Deerfield. We wanted more news to cover.
So here we are today. Ready to cover whatever news is relevant, so long as that news does not prevent me from graduating. You’re lucky, Warren G. Harding. You were next!
