Secret
Ryan
Ryan can be compared to Aphrodite in many ways, but mostly as it comes to his genesis (and
we’re not talking about the foam or the seashell). Semi-reliable sources have stated that this
event is also where Stephen gained his ability replicate a dog whistle with his voice. From his
flowy, beautiful, constantly-covered hair to his amazing fashion sense (rotation between his two
t-shirts), there are many parallels between Ryan “10 and 2” Hennessey and the goddess of
beauty.
Enough about Ryan’s enviable face and style, however. Let’s get deep. Ryan enjoys long walks
along the Charles, varsity sports dealing with the Charles, and power naps (preferably near the
Charles, but he can do just about anywhere). While he may look innocent and empty-headed
from the outside, inside Ryan is solely focused on one goal: to make sure none of Full House
survives to the next year.
We wish him every success.
Noah
When Jupiter toppled the head from Saturn’s shoulders, the earth was a desolate wasteland. Jupiter was sad to see this barren world he had inherited, and so sprang Noah, fully formed, from his golden larynx. To Noah’s divine voice, even the angels could not hope to compare. Upon hearing his song, green tentacles and pink blobs, which we now know as the myriad flora and fauna of this world, sprang out of the earth. Admittedly, when He was warming up, he accidentally created the potato, a most mysterious and enigmatic vegetable (we won’t mention the platypus here, that’s an account for another time). Jupiter and his sister, Ceres, were jealous of this tremendous feat of creation, and conspired to both erase Noah from the history books of man and assume the credit for his creations. Being a humble being, Noah decided to be the bigger man (god?), and went away to make his home in Idaho, bringing his potatoes with him as gifts to man. Many an age passed, and Noah decided that the world was once again ready for his glorious and magnificent voice. And so we find ourselves at MIT, with the Logarhythms, the only group able to appreciate and use his talents to their fullest, eagerly awaiting the next chapter in this epic adventure.
JWang
Do you know that moment when you find a penny on the street, but then a bus runs you over because you were standing ass-up in the middle of the street reaching for the penny, but then as you lay there bleeding and mangled, you look up at the sky and think about all the moments in your life that you regret, but then looking past those moments, you accept and even look forward to your inevitable death, but then an ambulance gets to you right in time so you are yanked back into the cruel reality that put you in that situation in the first place, but then as you lay there in the ER, you bottle all that depression into the deepest crevice of your being and prepare for the unhappy continuation of your being, but then you think back and realize that it was but a mere penny that caused you all this pain and consider the penny as a metaphor for your own life in terms of its insignificance to the universe and inability to determine its own fate, but then you look at yourself in the hospital mirror and say, “You are important, you are beautiful, you can sing, you are Jonathan Wang.”
So yeah I guess you would only know that moment if you are Jonathan Wang, but otherwise it’s pretty relatable. This is a bio though, so let’s get to the takeaway: JWang does this at least once a week. His only calling, nay his only purpose is to sing for you. He reminds himself of this during these near death experiences, so the only reason he exists is to entertain. Next time you hear an angelic voice vaguely coming in the direction of a penny, appreciate it. That voice has taken a long road to get to your eardrums. That voice can outsing all other voices. That voice is J-fuckin’-Wang.
“Dad?”
Tommy raised his head from his book and looked over the upper brim of his reading glasses. “Yes, Junior?” he replied from his patio chair.
Junior stood up in the garden grass, turning to face Tommy directly. “Dad, how does your garden stay beautiful?”
The question took Tommy by surprise, though his face hardly revealed it. He briefly surveyed Junior’s surroundings: brilliant pink fuschias, deep red roses, and bright blue petunias blossomed among patches of purple lavender and orange tulips. A small plot of grass provided ample space to view the display, from where Junior now gazed expectantly at his father, patiently waiting for his answer.
Tommy looked back at Junior. “Come here, son,” he said, motioning him to a spot on his lap. Junior eagerly climbed up his father’s hickory rocking chair, knocking a pair of dirt-encrusted leather gloves off the chair’s arm as he settled into place.
Tommy pointed up towards the blue sky. “Do you see that bright spot up there?” he asked, beckoning his son to look. Junior turned his head and squinted his eyes, jealous to see what his father found so important. At last, he located it: one spot in the sky brighter than any light he’d ever seen.
“What is it, Dad?” Junior inquired.
“It’s the Gardner, son. The big, bright, and shiny Ben Gardner.”
Junior continued staring in awe. “What does Ben do?” he asked.
“Oh, many things,” Tommy explained. “Shiny Ben shines so bright that he gives all of these flowers enough light to bloom into such intense colors. Shiny Ben gives light to the trees around us, so that when they grow, the logs we cut from them can warm our home. Without Shiny Ben, we would have no light in this world; no one would be able to see without Ben.”
“Wow!” exclaimed Junior, still gazing at Ben’s celestial beauty. “That’s amazing!”
Tommy chuckled. “But there’s so much more, Junior! Shiny Ben has a deep voice that moves the seasons to their proper places. He sings storms into the sea and calm into the air. His music carries the bird in its flight and propels the cheetah in its run. Shiny Ben’s voice makes order where there was once chaos, makes good where there was only evil, makes light where there was once darkness. Without Shiny Be-”
“Dad!” Junior yelled as he yanked his eyes away from the sky. “I can’t see! I think I’ve gone blind!”
Tommy’s countenance changed immediately. His wonder at the world around him quickly became a pair of wide eyes staring at his son, mouth agape. “My Gardner,” he said under his breath, “I didn’t think he would pick my son.”
“What do you mean?” Junior yelled, frantically waving hands in front of his head in a desperate attempt to regain his sight.
“Be joyful, my son,” said Tommy as he softly placed his hand on Junior’s head. He smiled as he looked at Ben, then back at his son. “Shiny Ben has chosen you, Junior, as his own. You must go to him now.”
Tommy stood up from his hickory rocking chair and carried Junior into the grassy opening. Surrounded by flowers, he threw his son into the air. Junior began a slow drift up into the blue sky. A single tear of joy fell down Tommy’s cheek as his son lofted higher and higher, eventually disappearing into the emanating radiance of Shiny Ben Gardner.