Author’s Note: The author of this article attests to the fact that he was drunk while writing this because he is depressed about graduating. However, he stands by the veracity and truthfulness of everything alleged.
When I first entered this school four years ago, the idea of college I had was informed by the pop culture movies that everyone growing up in the ’90s saw. Like most aspects of pop culture, this image of college did not conform to the sad reality I discovered.
I expected daily acts of weird whimsy, but the strangest thing most people do here is smoke some pot at a frat party.
Where are the wacky hijinks of Real Genius?
Where are the gleeful anti-heroes of PCU, forever at war with the administration?
I guess all of those people go home on the weekends.
It was my own fault for thinking that college should be interesting and basing my expectations on bad movies.
I hoped for strange-looking and acting people when I came to college. However, a quick glance at the student body on any given day would make anyone think that there was a schoolwide dress code.
I imagine that there is some kind of invisible series of directives that go something like this:
Pop that collar, young man, otherwise no one will like you or sleep with you.
You had better get into that sorority, young woman, or no one will like you or sleep with you.
Everyone please remember to get the same haircut – there’s a special discount for the College look at the mall.
Let’s be clear — I like drinking, but Greek life here ruins even that pastime. Who wants to pack in next to five other people in the backseat of a stranger’s car so you can pack into a small basement with 150 strangers and sweat while drinking bad beer and listening to even worse music at a party sponsored by people who pay to be friends with each other?
Yes, sign me up! Sweating next to people I do not know is exactly what I was hoping to do on Saturday nights. A big thanks to the College for fulfilling this secret desire of mine.
Now that I have pissed off most of the campus, I will move on to another topic.
Our college gets a lot of bad press for its lack of interest in politics, or really in anything. However, the past few weeks demonstrated that our students, and even one administrator, could still muster up a little bit of outrage. Too bad it was so poorly placed.
Ignoring the fact that the “Immaculate Deception” comic was anti-racist, a lot of people were hurt by the particular language and images used. This is understandable, since words can carry a lot of power especially when connected to race. However, I think it is the wrong thing to exclude certain words from use, especially in a context that seeks to criticize those who use those offensive terms in a negative way.
Censorship is always a bad thing, because you cannot rid society of hate just by outlawing anything that might be used in a hateful way.
I realize I am a white man, and thus very privileged in our society so perhaps no one should listen to me on a topic like this. However, the freedom to criticize things is dreadfully important and it should not face constraints.
I can only imagine what our world would be like if people voiced such anger over things like the war, or even the fact that the College renegotiated its contract with Sodexho during the summer so the student body was ensured no say in it.
However, since this is the last article I will ever write for this paper, I wanted to impart some closing advice:
Fuck apathy. Fuck indifference.
Freedom is not free, as the great lying bastards will tell you, because they are trying to sell you something.
However, the truth of that saying lies in the fact that the people who wouldn’t mind taking away the rights of you and me are happy to do so because there is a good trade-off for them. It is not the trade-off of liberty for security. That is an illusion. It is the trade-off between your rights and their power.
And if they try to convince you that it’s better to forget what it means to actually have compassion, shove your bleeding heart right in their faces.
So that’s it for me. Sorry if none of it made sense. Actually, I’m not sorry for that.