My Chemical Romance are headlining Sun God. When I heard the news, I didn’t shrug with the usual, breezy SoCal apathy — unless you can call dry heaving into a sandwich bag a shrug. But I’d like to imagine that My Chemical Romance fans were dry heaving as violently with joy as I had chundered with abject horror. There’s something polarizing about the “edgy” radio darlings; it inspires the kind of ire and adoration among UCSD students that the Khanna/Watts rivalry could only hope to achieve. If students could vote on whether or not to keep them as a headliner, there would surely be more than 17.3 percent of students voting in that election.

Compared to My Chemical Romance, the other acts at the top of the lineup don’t inspire nearly as much venom, even from the ignorant shitbags — yeah, shitbags — that hate all hip-hop, including the old Latino variety. Why is that, exactly?

Is it because we think that we’re too grown up to pay upwards of $50K to see a band that our 12-year-old sister would give up her toe for? Is it because we like to pretend that we’re more culturally advanced than the standard MTV boob who prefers spoon-fed pop-trash to actual fucking rock ‘n’ roll? Is it because they just plain suck? While every fiber of my being screams, “Yes! Yes! Yes!” there’s more to it than that.

Liking terrible music is, to most people, a matter of their own unique (ill-informed) tastes. But mocking pop music won’t change peoples’ opinions, and it’s hardly my concern when it comes to UCSD’s epic Sun God festival. I’m not worried about how good the music is at the Sun God concert — all I want is some music that I can party along with.

Which is exactly my problem with My Chemical Romance. Regardless of how many people like them (there are at least 350 on Facebook), they make the kind of music that you play when you’re feeling shitty. They sing about being alone, being rejected, falling out of love — all things I’d like to forget on the one day of UCSD-sanctioned debauchery. I certainly don’t need to be reminded of how lonely I am on Sun God — that’s what the other 364 days of the year are for.

I understand the difficult job of the A.S. programming office: Trying to please as many students as possible while facing the brick wall of classic UCSD apathy. But I’m not complaining because they picked a band I don’t like — the programming office should ignore such selfish bitching — I’m complaining because they picked the wrong band to host a party. Festivals like FallFest and WinterFest are the perfect place to put bands that play oppressively sad, angry and melodramatic music, but inviting them to the 24th-annual Sun God displays complete ignorance of the festival’s spirit.

UCSD’s student body is often chided for its constant apathy and reservation, but that shit goes straight out the window come Sun God. It’s the one day of the year that people meet one another, talk to new people, act crazy and get drunk together — things that I’m sure will not be encouraged by Romance’s violent melancholy.

That said, nearly all of the other acts of Sun God — Lyrics Born, Talib Kweli and Cypress Hill especially — are perfect for the schoolwide bender. But the depressing emo-pop of My Chemical Shitpants? I thought we were trying to have a party here.