'The Chafe' is a terrible waste of your time - Scott Stephenson editorial
As David Bowie once sang, “Ch-ch-ch-ch-The Chaff. Time may Chaff me. But I can’t Chaff time.” Welcome
back to The Chaff for another full, never half, double serving of The Chaff (suggested single serving size of The Chaff is actually half a The Chaff, so one full The Chaff is technically a double serving. Tolerance may vary. Check with your doctor before using The Chaff.)
This week The Chaff is frothing at the mouth like a rabid animal combined with a zombie that just had dental surgery and we’re going after our number-one biggest rival, competing column, The Chafe. It's hard to know where to begin with this sorry excuse for a publication, but we don’t have any time to dilly-dally, we must get right down to business, immediately, post-haste. There’s no time to waste. Let’s get right into this as fast as we can. Start your engines. Get ready to rumble… 3… 2… 1…. Prepare to blast off! Get ready to sink your teeth deep into the meat of the matter. All of your teeth. Your incisors. Your canines. Your premolars. Even your molars, people. Alright. This is it. Turn the lights up, or off, or whatever suits your personal situation at this moment. This fleeting, ephemeral moment. Carpe diem!
Let's start with the name. The Chafe? Really? It sounds like something you would find in a magazine about jock itch, like Jock Itch Weekly or Jock Itch Illustrated; or in books about jock itch like Jock Itch in Japan: An Emerging Giant and The Guinness Book of World Jock Itch; or CD-Roms like Encarta 95: The Jock Itch Edition. Get serious, The Chafe, your column’s name is lame.
Don't even get me started on the content. Have you ever read it? It's like someone took all the most boring topics imaginable and mashed them together into one tedious mess. I mean, who wants to read about the latest advances in something stupid? Or the benefits of using something dumb? Snooze-fest much? What’s worse is they don’t even bother to have high quality, in-depth coverage of Snooze Fest, Southwestern Ontario’s number one slumber and arts festival. The workshop on siestas is life-changing and the Slumberjack™ competition is what dreams are made of, but you wouldn’t know that if you’re only reading The Chafe. (Credit where credit is due - The Chafe did a decent job covering the return of Yawn Fest after Yawn Fest organizers were forced to postpone Yawn Fest 2020, Yawn Fest 2021, and Yawn Fest 2022 due to the COVID-19 pandemic.)
And what about the grammar? If I had a nickel for every misplaced, comma, in, The Chafe I would have so many nickels that I would open up a nickel store and sell nickels in bulk quantities at discount prices. At my store, you could have five nickels for two dimes! I would also commission the creation of a new sculpture of the world’s biggest nickel that would be 10 times the size of Sudbury’s pathetic and relatively tiny “Big Nickel”. The result would bring enormous shame to all Sudburians. Riots would break out in Northern Ontario and Sudbury’s existing, puny “Big Nickel” would be knocked down by an unruly mob, then dragged away from town and tossed into Georgian Bay. Gordon Lightfoot would have written a song about it called, “Wreck of the Tiny, Bad Nickel”. Terrible grammar! RIP Gordon.
But you know what's even worse than the content? The arrogance. The Chafe thinks it's so clever and sophisticated, but it's just a bunch of pretentious hot air. The Chafe seems to believe that by using unnecessarily complex language and throwing in a few obscure references, they can convince readers of their superior intellect and erudition. However, in reality, it only serves to alienate and frustrate their audience. Despite The Chafe’s uncompromising mediocrity, they seem to believe that they are somehow above us. It's as if they believe they are the gatekeepers of intellectualism, and anyone who doesn't subscribe to their narrow worldview is beneath them. But they are… stupid. And… bad. Very, very, very… stupid and bad.
The Chafe is an insult to our civilized society and needs to be stopped at all costs. Absolutely no costs are too high to confront the escalating Chafe challenge we all face together, today, right now. All costs, no matter their height, must not be considered at all. Cast away ye thoughts of any cost limitations. Banish all thoughts of costs to outer space where nobody can hear thoughts of costs because no costs are too high for this important and most pressing issue that currently is pressing its face against humanity.
So here's my advice: if you ever see a copy of The Chafe lying around, just use it to line your birdcage or wrap your sopping
and sloppy fried fish. You'll get more entertainment out of watching your pets or eating a hot, wet sandwich than you ever would from that sorry excuse for a column.