By Eli Farrington

Since the birth of our nation, the United States of America has made one mistake after another, in what I like to view as a grand symphony of fuck-ups and bullshit. With each new cycle around the sun, I look back and think to myself, ‘Wow, what a truly horrible year. There’s no way the next one could get any worse!’ And every year, I eat those words. 

So this year, as the beginning of 2025 ushers in a new era of darkness, I have come to the conclusion that there must be a reason that all this terrible shit keeps happening — some sort of divine power that’s controlling it all, some sort of unseen force pulling the strings from behind the curtains. This force of darkness, this conduit of evil, this sinister vessel of untamed power and ungodly wickedness, is Groundhog Day. 

No matter what direction that grubby little fucker looks when he pokes his dumb little head out of his hole, something bad ends up happening. So, why the hell does it even matter whether or not we’re getting six more weeks of winter if the planet’s just gonna keep getting warmer? If you ask me, a groundhog predicting the weather makes about as much sense as a sewer rat betting on the Superbowl, but hey, I’m just a journalism major at a school for potheads. What do I know?

America is a total shit show, the planet is dying, and there are a million other batshit crazy things going on in the world, but apparently Groundhog Day is sacred and we must celebrate it every year without fail. MAKE IT MAKE SENSE. I firmly believe that our country’s obsession with Groundhog Day is unhealthy, and that the holiday itself is foolish, dimwitted, and downright nonsensical. If you don’t believe me, here is a list of facts to show you just how incredibly bonkers it really is. 

First and foremost, this year marks the 11th anniversary of former New York Mayor Bill “Butterfingers” De Blasio dropping, AND KILLING, Staten Island Chuck, who was New York’s official “groundhog meteorologist” at the time. Yes, this actually happened, yes the groundhog really died, and yes, that was actually its job title. Apparently, the Staten Island Zoo even tried to sweep the whole thing under the rug, which created a huge scandal. Don’t believe me? Look it up. 

Still not convinced? Well, try this one on for size. Groundhog Day is more than just a quirky piece of American Folklore. It was brought to America in the 1700s by Germans who settled in Pennsylvania. The official Groundhog Forecaster, a Pennsylvanian groundhog by the name of Punxsutawney Phil, is allegedly 138 years old, and according to his “inner circle” — which is basically just a bunch of guys in top hats — the secret to his immortality is a magical punch known as the “elixir of life.” Give me a fucking break. I predict six more weeks of bullshit in the forecast.  

Here’s another one for you. Punxsutawney Phil’s full name is “Punxsutawney Phil, Seer of Seers, Sage of Sages, Prognosticator of Prognosticators, and Weather Prophet Extraordinary.” I swear, if I were an alien and I came down to earth on Feb. 2, I would think that Punxsutawney Phil was America’s God. The ancient Greek god of weather was the mighty Zeus. The best we could come up with was a goddamn woodchuck from Pennsylvania. I hate it here. 

If none of this convinced you that Groundhog day is a dumb holiday, then let’s take a look at it from a statistical standpoint. Punxsutawney Phil has an accuracy rating of only 35%, which means that you would literally have a better chance of predicting the weather by flipping a coin. 

We’ve got bigger fish to fry, America. I’m all for fun traditions, but this is straight-up ridiculous. Leave the groundhogs in the ground, and the weather in the sky.

Eli Farrington is a highly intelligent human life form working as the opinion editor for The Lumberjack. In his free time, he enjoys analyzing the complexities of the human condition. His passion for journalism knows no boundaries and exceeds time and space itself.