Say, aren't you that college-aged person who identifies as a corporeal entity and reacts to stimuli on a daily basis? What are the odds that you're here reading this article? Wowza! Since the above description accurately describes every fiber of your being down to a tee, I'm willing to wager you were somewhere in the planning stage of writing another article about how, even despite the odds, Bernie Sanders has your vote, right? Well, I'm not going to sit here and pretend like I'll be able to dissuade you from that goal, because let's face it -- if Mr. Sanders' LGBT+ friendly skeleton was fished out of a tar pit, crushed to a fine powder by an industrial grinder, put into a 32 oz. Polar Pop cup, and dropped down a mysterious hole at the top of mountain that leads directly to the Earth's core (where one would able to feel the greatest burn on the planet), you'd still go off to the internet to write about how, despite all odds, you're going to jot down Bernie's name on that ballot like it ain't no thing. All I'm asking you to do is consider how cool it would be to live the life of a swashbuckling pirate sailing the seven seas!
Picture this: It's 1809 and you're sailing the open seas with your rag-tag gang of sea fellas. Bernie Sanders won't exits for another century or two, so he's just about the farthest thing from your mind right now. However, you can't stop thinking about how flat the Earth is. What a flat, subjectively beautiful mass of land it is, indeed. Suddenly, some cool pirate stuff happens and you're like "YARRR!", because that is the language pirates speak. doesn't that sound like a really cool thing to have happen to you? Again, I'm not here telling you not to go online and publish an article to a platform where you believe your political opinions are groundbreaking because they attract an army of roughly 15 like-minded content sponges who merely agree with whatever illusion of originality you operate under, just imagine all the plundering you could have done if you were born in Spain during the 19th century and kidnapped at the age of seven!
While you're sailing to distant lands unknown in search of Baron Beard's Buried Booty, you pass the time by singing sea shanties and getting the scurvy. Your life expectancy is basically 30 years, but screw it. You're a cut throat. Your name is Captain Bones, which, according to your sea fellas, is a very cool name for a pirate. You've even got a few of those bone guys on your flag, which is a depiction of the very flat earth with a skull that has an unhealthy amount of assorted bones coming out of its eye holes. These are not the previously mentioned hypothetical remains of Sen. Bernie Sanders, however. Again, he fails to exist during this time period. Just focus on the sheer bodacious-ness of being a pirate for now.
All pirates wear really cool clothes that make them look particularly flammable. If you were a pirate, you'd wear a large feather on your head and really tall socks. All pirates are marked by these physical attributes. Captain Bones would add their own spunky flair to the mix, like wearing bird skulls and smelling like sweat. Then you can win the love of the governor's daughter. You can even be gay married to the governor's daughter. That'd be cool with Bernie, plus it's also cool with all pirates because they can also have unprotected sex with whoever they want. Prophylactics, like Bernie, have not been invented yet probably. In addition, women are actually called "wenches" in the 1800's, so be sure to politely refer to your pirate wife as a wench. It's cool with her because you're a cool pirate. Go out and get treasure as well. It's a pretty common and easy thing to do that's sure to get your name written down in The Official Handbook To Cool Pirates and the Spherical Deficiency of the Earth!
So yeah, do what you will. But just imagine all that cool pirate stuff, too, alright?
