I saw a Threadless t-shirt that reminded me of a classic Squelch piece, The Gentle Jangle of Success. Ah, the days when the Squelch was printed on toilet-paper grade newsprint, stained your hands, had no color, and regularly alienated the Native American and Filipino campus communities. Not that they don't currently alienate people, but I think Filipinos have pretty much gotten a free ride since 2000.
When I was looking for the title of the key piece, I discovered another nugget of Sean Keane internet famousness in a review of Richard Grayson's And To Think That I Kissed Him On Lorimer Street. The reviewer cites the Squelch and quotes from an old Words From The Top entitled, Class of 2004: Don't Sing It, Bring It. (I don't remember why we chose that title.)
One particular letter from the editor that stands out in my mind is the one addressed to the freshman in fall 2000: "College," the editor opined, "is like a hypercolor t-shirt. It starts out with a brilliant pink burst of excitement, before slowly fading away to a blur of resentment and apathy." The editor also instructed the freshmen, "If you're one of those students who asks questions in lecture every day, just remember, there's a special circle in hell for you people."
The remainder of the Squelch piece discusses unbaptized infants, restraining orders, and the odd confluence of antique stores on the corner of Shattuck and Adeline in Berkeley. The remainder of the book review gives an enthusiastic thumbs-up to Mr. Grayson's book, noting that his "handling of his characters' sexuality is deft and never overbearing", which is how I like to think I deal with my own sexuality, albeit not in print.
What is the lesson here? Clearly, I should be making more t-shirts, and publishing a collection of semi-autobiographical short stories, possibly concerning keys. The tentative working title is, Sean M. Keane, Will You Please Go Now!