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Editor’s Note: This piece is intended to be satirical, and does not representthe views of the ‘Prince’.

The sun slips languidly over the tips of our all-too-familiar gothic towers, giving way to a fresh day of soft, cloud-checkered skies. It's morning again in America, and for one Princeton man, there is work to be done.

After a hearty bowl of nails sans lait for breakfast, he slips on his Nike™ sneakers and sets out to fight the most loathsome, deplorable enemy of them all: the establishment. Sign in hand, he embarks on a quest to conquer and convert the college liberal, an elusive adversary indeed.

A man after Reagan's own heart, Nassau Street Political Man unabashedly promulgates and promotes what has become a rather unpopular political perspective in this, the bastion of the liberal elite. Volley after volley of vitriol flies in his direction, but Nassau Street Political Man is steadfast in his convictions. Unironically, he advocates for an open discourse in the new, everything-is-suddenly-on-fire atmosphere of American politics, where a sound byte becomes a tweet that becomes a trend and, inevitably, a breaking news headline on CNN.

What could one man, largely silent unless prompted, do to become the subject of such an enraged Princeton populus? Has he ruthlessly conducted a Fire Safety check unannounced? Has he let his entire sports team join him in the middle of the already ridiculous Wilcox lunch line? Surely not. After all, should it really come as a surprise that the town surrounding our famously (or notoriously, your choice) conservative institution touts an equally conservative voting base?

I embarked on my own pilgrimage to see the mythical creature with my own eyes, though from afar. I lie in wait, sipping my over-priced coffee from across the street, blissfully distant from the active warzone that the FitzRandolph gates have become. As the sun beats down on our friendly, neighborhood antagonist's peacefully unfettered brow, I can't help but wonder if maybe we're all caught in some elaborate ruse.

Picture this: a candidate who claims hand-to-heart that the "establishment" is sabotaging his presidential aspirations, whose supporters are systematically subjugated to abuse in front of the most established of establishments: an Ivy League University. Suddenly, a candidate oft accused of serial carelessness becomes a mastermind in manipulation of the narrative.

The realization sinks like my stomach after one-too-many Caramel Ribbon Crunch Frappucinos — my guilty pleasure. Is the sacred political process being manipulated?! I've never heard of such a thing in my authoritative 20 years on this planet! I want to shout to the masses, though my revelation has come too late. Suddenly, Nassau Street Political Man has become the campus' white whale, with student after student inevitably engaging, becoming upset, and eventually arguing with our campus' newfound virtuoso of controversy.

I want to shout at the steadily growing line of detractors.

"Run away, run away!"

Alas, student after student piles up at his feet, blue in the face from a discord gone sour; a convert unconverted. Unlike a susceptible frosh at the activities fair, he seems unphased by each student’s best efforts. It looks as though our Princeton admission letters really aren't the golden ticket to everything we want in life.

The genius of it all strikes me like a forgotten pset's encroaching deadline. Nassau Street Political Man and his candidate for our national chapter of the Government Club have no need for our petty televisions and computers to get their message out; a simple sign and a provocative world view will do the trick.

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