The UTD brand is an absolute mess, and at the core of this issue is the school’s failure to properly utilize the TEMOC brand. Animal and ambiguously racist mascots are a dime a dozen across the United States, but sexy anthropomorphized rock men are truly unique. Not only is Temoc an iconic figure for his looks and workout routine, but his previous versions going all the way back to 1998 had such putrid and caustic veneers that they had to be locked up in glass cages to avoid their escape. Not even the most depraved minds behind PepsiCo’s logo could have come up with such a devilish brand —  it strikes both fear and desire within the hearts of the student body, yet its consistent underutilization has led to ultimately lackluster results which disappoint those invested in this campus. Since Temoc is already both sexy and horrifying, all the campus needs to do is lean heavily into the omnipresence of this seductive rock devil.

A cursory analysis of the student body of UTD would immediately reveal one crucial fact: students adore the idea of Temoc. Just look at him! He has that searing hot hair that sets a fire within even the most stalwart of hearts, that pale blue skin reminiscent of the starry night from which he descends unto his faithful fans, and those massive biceps which could easily split a freshman in two. Temoc has starpower which Richard Benson and the rest of the school administration ought to utilize everywhere. 

Tragically, Temoc isn’t everywhere. His iconic visage is underused and heavily limited in its scope. You might catch a glimpse of Temoc in orientation videos, back-to-school events at the start of fall semester, or at special ceremonies, but this simply isn’t enough. When one has access to such a vital asset, it should be used at every conceivable — and inconceivable — opportunity. Students should constantly be teased by the thought of Temoc’s hunky figure meandering through every nook and cranny of the campus. Playing basketball in the Activity Center? Temoc should be there. Eating lunch in the SU? Temoc should be there. Meeting with the dean of your school in the admin building because of alleged academic dishonesty? Temoc should be there, and he should be the one to hand you your academic suspension letter. But Temoc must also be a subtle art; you want the student body to hunger for him constantly, and yet you never want to satiate them. Students should be ravenously searching for Temoc if he is incorporated properly into standard school procedure and maintenance. 

A key part of keeping the student body both entertained and desperate for more is to use a variety of Temocs with unique characteristics based on the building he is in. A toned athlete Temoc might be found in the southern sports fields of campus. A learned and studious scholar Temoc could roam the McDermott library. A toxic waste Temoc could hang out in the Bioengineering and Sciences Building. Original Temocs could scurry through the school’s underground tunnels as the cruel wardens who hunt down trespassers. An abstract representation of Temoc could dwell in the Arts and Technology Building. All of these and more could be spread throughout the campus, with a Temoc specifically tailored for each building and region of the campus. 

A Temoc menagerie would also allow the campus to monetize this iconic figure by creating collectable trading cards for each Temoc type. Since the UTD campus is comprised primarily of nerdy hobbyists and Temoc fanatics, each Temoc could be given certain traits and abilities which could be central parts of a UTD centric trading card game — à la Pokemon or Magic the Gathering. The TEMOC brand game would undoubtedly be infinitely better than these outdated games, however, because it would include a variety of alluring and pristine Temocs alongside famous figures like the Specters of the Spirit Rocks, Tobor the Harbinger of Calories, and the Immovable Sticker Pole.

A critical analysis of Temoc also reveals that it is, by definition, horrifying. Not only did it wipe out the dinosaurs when it arrived on Earth 66 million years ago, but it also maintains a constant grimace of joy, never faltering in its creeping joviality nor making any attempt to blink. It doesn’t even eat, unless you count the souls of the students forever lost in the tunnels as nourishment. One might think that this all negatively impacts the TEMOC brand, yet one would be a fool. The modern myths that surround cryptids and the occult are all the craze with the youth, and it is within UTD’s best interest to capitalize on Temoc’s dual role as both the 21st century’s sex symbol and as the incomprehensible horror that haunts your nightmares. 

A key part of creating a sense of dread around the Temocs is to ensure that students never really know when Temocs will arrive. While it should be guaranteed that students will see some variety of Temoc at least once per week, the student body should constantly feel as if there is a large presence looming behind them which could plausibly be Temoc at all times. To this end, UTD needs to hire more students to take up the dark mantle of the reigning Comet of this campus so that every student can be properly haunted by this maligned mascot.

While typically off limits for most students, the maintenance tunnels beneath the school would serve as excellent nesting grounds for the brood of Temocs UTD should develop. The tunnels are an easy way to access key parts of the campus while providing an added sense of dread within their damp, dark, and narrow corridors. The Temocs should be given full reign over these underground tunnels so that they can move around secretly to more effectively frighten students. Tobor help you if you find Temoc in the Founders building’s stairwell. 

Just imagine what a great experience it would be for students if they had to whisper in terrified murmurs in response to the desiccated squirrel carcasses left in Temoc’s wake, or because they swear they can hear the brutal gnashing of jagged canines as Temoc tears into some unfortunate Comet that wandered outside of their respite.

With events such as EROL occurring with regularity at UTD, it is clear that the student body has a deep interest and desire for Temoc lore, fanfiction, and modern horror. UTD could engage in a large-scale campus wide collaborative storytelling effort around the horrors of interacting with Temoc. Each harrowing encounter and narrow escape would add to the cumulative pool of Temoc paraphernalia and shared understanding which could be distributed across the school’s facilities to create a strong sense of kinship between surviving students. Students currently are receiving paltry crumbs of their horrifically tempting mascot, and it is the duty of campus officials to provide them with more to satiate this uncontrollable hunger for Temoc. 

The best approach UTD can take to rebuild its school spirit, revitalize an old mascot, and bring in additional revenue to fund the creation of a bigger Plinth is to lean in hard into the TEMOC aesthetic. UTD must be a trendsetter when it comes to college mascots by using Temoc to both terrorize and tantalize the student body. Only through a concerted campaign to rethink Temoc can UTD truly give its students what they desire.