At the Great Debate last Friday, six-inch-tall presidential candidate and inanimate object, the Cairn, made a surprise appearance by emerging alongside five clones of itself. We at The Ubyssey have taken this as concrete confirmation of a suspicion we have long held — the Cairn is actually a member of an alien race that has taken control of its human host, Alan Ehrenholz, in order to actualize its diabolically extraterrestrial plot of destroying the AMS and the rest of humanity from within.
Observe how every time it wishes to communicate with its human surrogate, Ehrenholz lifts it to his ear and listens, his normally lively eyes glazing over as the will of the concrete entity — adorned by the ceremonial red war-paint of its people — is imparted directly into his frail humanoid brain.
Note how when not directly engaging in questions, Ehrenholz sits still and docile, his mouth slightly open in a vacant daze devoid of autonomous will.
Consider, if you will, why Ehrenholz sounds so reasonable. Ponder about how when he opens his human speaking apparatus, his words don't sound like the usual inaudible chants and yells of a typical engineering student.
The only reasonable conclusion for this behaviour is that he is in the telepathic clutches of a sentient rock who has now brought a legion of painted followers to force their watery, sandy, aggregate-filled, weather-resistant will upon us!
Is this an act of vengeance? Have our years of defacing its surfaces finally brought upon us an unstoppable tide of concrete ire? Perhaps. Perhaps the many little Cairns are minions of the Cairn Overlord that sits on Main Mall. Or maybe it's their spaceship — an inter-dimensional vessel that has used its psychic powers to take over not only Ehrenholz, but also the entire engineering department!
Or perhaps the Cairn is simply shy. In the debate, Ehrenholz mentioned that it previously declined to speak due to nerves before crowds. Perhaps we have misinterpreted the Cairn's true nature. Maybe it is simply an introverted, inanimate object that relies on Ehrenholz as an integral pillar of encouragement.
Or perhaps what we feared was a sinister, alien plot is in fact simply a tender romance between an engineer and his rocks. Take note of how gently Ehrenholz lifted the Cairn to his ear — showing a respect and tender caring that most can only aspire to in their own relationships. Like a great ambassador for the human race, clearly Ehrenholz has built a loving relationship with the Cairn, built upon the firm foundation of mutual respect and structural support.
We can never truly know what Ehrenholz thinks is happening, but it is obvious that the seductive, telepathic power of the Cairn was too much to resist.
So there you have it. One alien rock. An election that threatens to destroy the very lack of substance that is student government and perhaps maybe the world. And one man — a man who is most likely in the clutches of an intoxicating telepathic romance with the mighty Cairn. Perhaps Ehrenholz will save us all from its wrath. Or perhaps he will become the first victim in its vengeful campaign for world domination.
Only time and pure guesswork will tell. For more reliable and entirely fact-based coverage, you can always rely on us here at The Ubyssey for our thoroughly serious opinion.
This article is dedicated to Olamide Olaniyan, who theorized this bat-shit idea.