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The Mass Media

The Mass Media

The Mass Media

Invasion of the Bobby snatchers

Bobby+B.+Beacon+points.+Illustration+by+Bianca+Oppedisano+%2F+Mass+Media+Staff.
Bianca Oppedisano
Bobby B. Beacon points. Illustration by Bianca Oppedisano / Mass Media Staff.

“I don’t remember for sure when they started,” said Manfred Anybody, a UMass Boston student plagued by nightmares. “It’s the same dream every night. I’m a little boy, but not myself. I’m in a little boy’s bedroom, but it’s not mine. Everything has an ancient look to it. There are other beds and other kids. Everybody’s crying and yelling in a language I don’t recognize. There’s some kind of commotion outside. I hear people shouting and running around, but I’m too scared to move. And then…the blast.”

For the past two weeks, I’ve been approached by members of the UMass Boston community reporting that they’ve been having vivid dreams every night. This wouldn’t be cause for concern; however, what is concerning is the fact that they are all having the same dream. These shared nightmares have led to increased paranoia throughout the school with most choosing to remain tight-lipped about their experiences. Despite this, a rare few sought to confide in me. For transfer student Wyatt Wanker, his experiences extend beyond the dream world. 

“It started with the dreams, but then…things got weird.” Wanker’s voice trembled with a hint of shame as he spoke. “I’m usually really good about deleting my search history after I… you know. But the other night, I guess I was tired and forgot. Long story short, my girlfriend went through my phone and when she saw what I had been looking at, she decided to leave me right then and there. I guess something about ‘burly, burlesque beacons’ put her off.” 

Wanker isn’t the only person who’s confessed to having the “hots” for lighthouses. A recent survey conducted by the American Pornography Association found that lighthouse porn has had a substantial rise in viewership specifically in Boston, Mass. over the past couple of weeks. Some data analysts project that it could potentially become Boston’s most viewed form of pornography next to “people who loosely resemble Donnie Wahlberg making what could be considered some kind of clam chowder” within the next month. 

The convergence of Bostonian’s oddly specific kinks along with the communal memories of an unknown past point to some kind of mass mental assimilation. In other words, people around UMass Boston and in the greater Boston area seem to be operating on the same wavelength, and every day, it seems that the number of people affected by this phenomenon increases.

So, how might you know if you’re under the influence of this strange effect? Besides the nightmares and sudden attraction to lighthouses, other reported symptoms include the frequent urge to consume vast quantities of Coca-Cola; finishing sentences with the phrase, “if you know what I mean” to suggest some kind of vague sexual innuendo; hostile attitudes toward anything that breathes; and continuous feelings that you are, and will never be, good enough to be loved genuinely by anyone.   

I became determined to get to the bottom of this mystery and while snooping around for answers, talking to everyone from psychics to psychologists to the woman who lives underneath the bathhouse at Carson Beach, I was at a loss for an explanation. That was until I stumbled into an old friend who, unsurprisingly, had a little something to get off his chest. 

“I’ll just be honest and say that I really screwed the pooch on this one.” Bobby Beacon, the famous mischievous mascot of UMass Boston, sat before me, nervously twiddling his thumbs. After making me promise profusely that I wouldn’t get mad at him for what he was about to say, he launched into one of the strangest anecdotes I had ever heard. 

“It all started late one night. I was down in the Boneyard watching this show on the History Channel about these two idiot scientists trying to crack the code of cell rejuvenation. They were talking about how human cells are constantly reproducing inside the body, not by f—ing each other, but by f—ing themselves. At least, that’s how I came to understand it. Then they dropped this total truth grenade by saying that every seven years every cell in the human body is completely new. A whole-ass, brand-spanking-new human being every seven years! How do I know they’re the same person? Who can I trust? Que the paranoia.” 

A high-pitched dinging noise rang out from the side of the room. “Oh s—, that’s the hot pockets.” Bobby sprang from his seat excitedly to retrieve his food. Apparently, I was intruding on his lunch hour. “I’d offer you some water but… you know what? I’ll get to that in a minute.” Bits of sausage and cheese dripped out of his mouth as he spoke mid-chew. After a swallow and a sigh, the Beacon continued his tale.

“If I was gonna sleep soundly at night, I needed to do something to ensure that you humans remained the same at a cellular level. That’s when I remembered the classic sci-fi film, “Invasion of the Body Snatchers,” the ‘70s remake, not the original. If you don’t know what that is, pretty much you’ve got these alien parasites from space that come down and snatch up your body, replace you and act as a giant hive mind. After watching that again, I felt inspired. I had to make a hive! It was the only way that people would remain honest and true! How I went about doing it, that’s where things get… messy.”    

Bobby stared down at his feet with an expression that resembled guilt, or at least the closest somebody like him could ever come to it. He looked back up at me, maintaining uncomfortable eye contact.

“I pissed in the city water supply.” 

Bobby threw up his hands apologetically in a desperate attempt to justify his actions: “I know my logic was shaky, but Beacon DNA is different from human DNA. Our cells don’t reproduce, they’re just kind of built to last, you know. Anyway, I thought that if I got some of my DNA into the drinking water, then everyone in the city would be exposed and inherit my immortal genes! What I didn’t consider is that my childhood trauma and sexual perversions would come attached. What can I say, you gotta watch out for those bundle deals.”

An analysis of the water proved Bobby’s claims to be true, but how DNA from urine was able to bond with human DNA via oral ingestion remains a scientific anomaly. While the city of Boston will undoubtedly have a lot of work to do in filtering out the remnants of Bobby’s genetic code from the drinking supply, the effects of  Bobby’s “hive mind” are predicted to dissipate within the next few weeks. In the meantime, it is strongly recommended that you avoid contact with city water to avoid further contamination. For those who have already been exposed, Bobby will be donating his collection of “Lewd Lighthouse Magazine” for the greater good.

To look on the bright side of this chaos, the issue will eventually clear itself up. However,  many are still curious as to what exactly their nightmares were about. With a final word from Bobby, he passionately stated, “I spent a lot of years in that orphanage after my dad f—ed a lighthouse and sailed out to sea. Man, those were the days! Well, until that b— Vesuvius blew it all to Kingdom come. But hey, when the volcano comes a rumbling, the townsfolk go a stumbling… if you know what I mean.”   

About the Contributors
Joe DiPersio, Humor Editor
Bianca Oppedisano, Illustrator