Today and all days after this, we mourn the death of ObieHub. Tragically struck down too young by the cold, unfeeling hand of the oppressors, our fallen son was far more than a candidate in a CIT PRESTO-renaming competition. ObieHub was the hero we needed in a time of chaos and distrust, chosen to lead our school as a symbol of hope, resilience, and pornography.

But first, let us celebrate its life; I began chronicling the journey of ObieHub in the op-ed “ObieHub Rams Expectations Hard” (March 2, 2018, The Oberlin Review). Here, I outlined our hero’s origins as an administration-chosen name, appearing to us after an earlier poll was sent out requesting the help of students in renaming PRESTO. Though many of this first poll’s write-in answers were creative and colorful, the administration deemed them unworthy, and a carefully-pruned selection of names was then sent out for our perusal. Peruse it we did, and choose we did — from the options the administration provided, the students chose the name ObieHub.

Here, we reach a stage of ObieHub’s life that is gray: What happened in between? Why was it shot down so soon after its coronation? Who is responsible? And who now is this imposter, this despot called OberView, sitting on the throne laughing at us — despising us! — with malice in its eyes?

There is no firm answer as to why the chosen name is now OberView, but there is no doubt that there are traitors among us. Whispers have been heard that ObieHub’s secret was leaked to the administration, which swiftly acted again to wipe out what it deemed unworthy. How much these informants were paid or what reward they received from giving up ObieHub’s true identity is unknown.

In realizing just how many unknowns this gray stage had, I decided to investigate. Student Senator and defender of democracy Samuel Waranch valiantly agreed to help, using his position of power to reach out to Chief Information Technology Officer Ben Hockenhull in the hopes that he would give us some answers. However, I am informed that even several days later, there has been only chilly silence from Sam’s inbox.

And so we may just have to accept the hush that falls across campus every time the question is asked — who, or what, killed ObieHub? It is clear that the tyrants are unwilling to speak. It would be hard not to feel powerless in the wake of all this; they asked for our voice, we gave it, and they exerted their will regardless.

But what we must take from this is not the despair — we must remember that we all bore witness to a hero. ObieHub was our choice, the dirty Mudd-drinking-fountain water that we turned into wine. And though they have deposed it from its natural place of honor, they cannot depose ObieHub from our hearts. It will forever be remembered as a symbol of hope in a time of deficit and darkness, unjustly taken from us all because of a light association with PornHub — that may or may not have been known, and cherished, by the entire student body.