“It whispers to me when no-one is around,” said Leslie.
Photo by Janice Kim
Following the start of the rainy season, an ancient water deity revealed itself to a host of literature students attending class in Marshall College. According to four witnesses, the entity known as “the Great Sea Frog” manifested in the shaft of a storm drain after what was reported as a “handful of sticks” were dropped inside.
“We were just playing a little game, y’know?” said Hope Leslie, a witness “confident in her future in the arts.” She continued, “These early morning literature classes can be a drag. Sometimes it feels like you’re better off kicking sticks into a sewer grate. So we did — and that’s when we found it.” Despite the nature of its awakening, the Great Sea Frog allegedly offered its favor in the form of “four days of fog and two and a half days of rain.” This figure stands in sharp contrast to the approximate 0.25 days of rain that La Jolla had received during the first half of the quarter. Since the incident, witnesses have begun calling themselves “the Cult of the Great Sea Frog” and convening three times a week to commune with their “new god-apparent.” When asked why, devotee Lili Padd answered: “Meh. It’s better than the faith back home.”
Outsiders have responded with skepticism. Marshall resident S. Allright remarked, “I mean, it’s a bunch of arts majors. What else can you expect from them?” Another passerby who wished to remain anonymous added that this fascination may be an “overeagerness” to reenact literary tropes, including “ocean as muse” and “amphibian in the role of the divine.” Other kinds of pushback from student expressed concern about the “dreary” ideology and its effects on the climate. Comments such as “Aren’t they sick of wearing jeans?” and “Bro I miss the sun” were common.
Currently, there have been no confirmed sightings of the Great Sea Frog outside of the original witnesses, lending credence to claims that this figure might not exist at all. Despite a lack of evidence, members of the Marine Biology department, including graduate student Ira Bellivier — who upon hearing about the rumors, nodded so vigorously her glasses flung off her face — have shown support. “A giant frog that controls the weather from the storm drains? How sick is that? Sick enough for me to believe, sight unseen. My only issue is with the terminology. Assuming it’s from the Pacific, it would have to be the Great Ocean Frog. But who’s bothering themselves with specifics?”
Members of the new organization are encouraging all students, regardless of major, to join them. They disclosed plans to begin tabling near the “portals” where the Great Sea Frog appears and perform demonstrations on how to provide offerings to their “amphibian overlord.” Co-president G. Tidings reported that “Apparently, we got lucky the first time around. It really likes sticks — y’know, to dam up the drains and all — and to make totally epic wands for its high priests. Someday, the system will become so flooded that the Great Sea Frog will float right to the top of the grate… And at last, we’ll
have everlasting June Gloom. We will literally fix global warming forever, so please be appropriately, eternally grateful. ”
The Great Sea Frog declined to comment.
