Fall Break is one day off from school. This is hardly a break, and for some, it is not even a break. I’ve never encountered anyone who has had a business class on a Friday after freshman year. I’ve also never met anyone who didn’t try to schedule as few classes as possible on Friday, many with great success. For these people, Fall Break is not a break. It is a Friday. I myself only have one class and a subsection on Fridays, and while I was certainly glad for the break, I couldn’t help but think that it could have worked out better.

There are many ways to give everyone a better Fall Break experience. The most obvious is to add another day or two to the break. We have the extra days. Shutting down classes for another day or two will not bring Washington University under the limit for accreditation. It will, however, allow everyone to benefit from the vacation’s presence and encourage more people to travel away from campus.

Washington University is a great place. It is beautiful here; the environment is everything I could ask for and more. My best friends are here. All that being said, it is only natural to want to get away every now and then. But it is hard to go anywhere. Plane tickets are expensive, and air travel can be a hassle. And a weekend is not long enough to travel anywhere significantly far. When you only have two days, who wants to spend more than two or three hours, at most, traveling? You would spend more time getting where you were going than actually being there.

Fall Break helps this problem, but does not solve it. While adding an extra day gives us that much more time to be where we travel, longer trips are still inconvenient. Another day or two would free us to go even further or do more wherever we go. Those philanthropically minded would be able to do more good, help more people. Air travel would become more reasonable because of the amount of time between the flights.

If, however, adding more days to Fall Break is not appealing, there is another way that everyone can be allowed to experience the time off. If Fall Break were any day other than a Friday, the large number of people who have free Fridays anyway would also be able to reap the benefits. And, since Fall Break generally falls in the week before, after, or even the very same week as Columbus Day–a day which many other colleges and universities have off from classes–a simple switch would be easy.

Fall Break is a good thing. It can easily be made better and I see no reason why we would not want to do so.

Take, for instance, two movies from this summer: Inception and Toy Story 3. I had been excited about both of these movies from the moment I heard of them. In the case of Inception, Christopher Nolan is my favorite contemporary director, and Leonardo DiCaprio is always a very solid actor. The rest of the cast, and the premise, looked like the entire world was promised. Accordingly, I went into the movie expecting it to be the best movie I’d ever seen. If you asked me what my favorite movie was before I saw Inception, I would’ve said, “probably ‘Inception.’”

Don’t get me wrong. It was a fine movie: entertaining, a bit thought-provoking, open to interpretation, well-written and well-acted, and everything that a good movie necessarily is. But it was not a great movie. And it was leagues behind where I expected it to be. In evaluating the film in my mind, I must always be careful to comment on only the actual experience of the thing, rather than on how that differed from what I hoped and anticipated that experience would be. My expectations ruined for me what should have been one of the best films I’ll ever see.

We can take its opposite, Toy Story 3. I saw this movie months after it came out in theaters. It had been out long enough that all the initial hype had died down. Thankfully, I managed to avoid most spoilers. Going in, I had much more reasonable expectations. I expected standard Disney/Pixar fare: a good time and some catharsis. What I got blew my mind and literally changed the way I think about myself.

None of that would have been possible had I been expecting it. If I had gone into the movie thinking that it would change my life, I would have been far more resistant to it; its flaws would have been highlighted and brought to the fore, towering over their fairer cousins. It is precisely because I did not think the movie would have the effect on me that it did that it was able to have that effect.

I could go on. And I’m sure you could also.

It is impossible for expectations to be completely eradicated. However, they are never a good thing, and must be quashed on sight if we are to experience anything to its full potential. Expectations must be given no quarter and no mercy. Be careful what you look for; you won’t get anything else.

Erin Mitchell | Student Life

There were a few reasons why I wanted to spend a summer abroad, spending money rather than making it— away from the friends and family I only see on those short breaks from St. Louis rather than with them, almost totally out of contact with anyone I knew before I got on the plane to Europe. First of all, I wanted to go to Germany. I started taking German classes here and fell in love with the language, and, equally importantly, the department. The stories they told and the language they taught painted a picture of an idyllic place where one could go to escape from the day-to-day life and have an unforgettable adventure or two. I also thought it was silly to be a German major and not go to Germany.

Wash. U. made it as easy as could be for me to go. In fact, they encouraged it. There were ample opportunities for scholarships, though there would have been more if I had chosen to spend a semester abroad rather than the summer. Had I gone in the spring, I would have been in Germany for about double the amount of time I was over the summer. My language skills would certainly have shown a corresponding increase.

So why, then, did I choose to go abroad over the summer, rather than do a program that had a strong chance of being more helpful to me, and one to which I was more likely to get a scholarship? That answer is simple: Wash. U.

I am a junior now. I am halfway done with my undergraduate studies. I only have four semesters left. After that, who knows what will happen. I would like to go to Germany again for a while and then to law school. That means time separated from my friends here, time away from this place that I love so much. And when I leave, I cannot be sure that I will ever come back, either to the people or the places. I hope to, but even if I do, I cannot be sure that everything will be the same. I don’t have much time left, and I don’t want to miss a single second of it.

Study abroad. Even if you’re not going for a language, or you want to go to a place where you don’t speak the language, or you have any other concerns, get out of here for a time and go experience something. But if I like you, do it over the summer, so I don’t have to miss you.

I was indeed surprised. I was not helped. In Dylan Suher’s recent article, I was lambasted for not knowing about an issue that does not affect me in any direct way and one that I had publicly asked for help understanding. Instead of doing what anyone who cared to have his view heard in a rational matter would do, which would be to help his fellow man, Suher tried to tell me that it was my own fault that I am so ignorant. I do not understand how wanting to fix my ignorance is the cause of it.

He also included an ad hominem attack that does not merit serious engagement.

I read Suher’s article. While he failed entirely to make a compelling, let alone more than partially cogent argument, it seemed like most of his reasoning in favor of the tomato ban came from white guilt.

I don’t think I would be too incorrect if I said that most of us here, attending Washington University, are pretty well-off. Maybe we’re not Gateses or Buffetts, but we’re certainly not poor people either. And yes, I’m sure there are varying degrees of wealth among the students here, and I would be surprised if a few did not come from poverty, but in general, we’re pretty up there.

It seems to me that people like us—people who have money and things— look around at the world and see that not everyone has as much. This makes us feel guilty, like we don’t deserve what we have. We see other people who are worse off than we are, and without asking why that is, or even if it is true in context, we feel guilty. Why?

I understand wanting to make the world a better place. If it weren’t a better place, it would be a worse place, and no one wants that. However, why must we be brought down? Now, I’m not saying that a lack of tomatoes for a semester is really a big deal. Hell, I hardly even eat them. What I am saying is that certain things are beyond our control, like how much money our parents make.

It seems to me that there’s no sense in wishing things that we can’t control were different. That seems like just a waste of time. So how about this: When we see that we have stuff and other people don’t, we remember that they’re trying to get stuff too. Nobody’s forcing them to do anything. They’re not telling us how we should live. Why should we tell them how to?

Let’s start with the tomatoes. Someone somewhere was upset because the tomato vendors Bon Appétit was buying from were not Fair Trade certified. Someone had some sort of power or influence and got them temporarily banned. That much I get. What I don’t understand is why.

First of all, no one here benefits from a lack of tomatoes. So clearly the ban was not in our best interests.

Second, I do not understand Fair Trade. I think the logic goes something like this: People in other countries are paid less money than people in America or other economically leading countries for different jobs, and that this is somehow inhumane. Is that all? Where’s the problem there? One of my main problems with this is that that statement is totally meaningless. The wage rate in one industry in one country by itself is indicative of almost nothing. It must be compared to prevailing costs of living, wages in other industries and at other companies in the same industry, etc. When this comparison is made, all of that data suggest that the companies being protested pay their workers much more than the laborers would make elsewhere.

But you don’t even need data to figure that out. It’s simple common sense. No one is forcing these people to work the jobs they work, but they do anyway. Therefore, there must be some reason. That reason is that these jobs are better than the other jobs or having no job. If things were really as bad as they are made out to be, no one would stand for it.

These workers are standing for it. No one asked for a champion here, and all the data suggests that they don’t need one. Literally every modern, economically great country, from America and Britain to China and Japan, has reached its place in the world the same way that the countries under heavy fire from Fair Trade protestors are doing now. If this path works to get countries to the top, why do people want to keep them off it?

Another thing I don’t understand: The other day, I saw a sign in Ursa’s that was supposed to make me outraged by saying that health insurance companies “discriminate” against the elderly, women and people with preexisting conditions. The flyer cited no source, so therefore we must go with common sense again. I will assume that these three groups actually do have to pay more in premiums than other people. They are also the people most likely to get sick, though. Of course the insurance companies are going to charge them more money. They are the people the insurance companies are going to have to give the most money to, on average. This seems more like good business than discrimination.

And even if it is discrimination, why does no one complain that auto insurance companies charge teenage males higher premiums than anyone else? Or why does no one claim that they discriminate against people with red cars?

I guess the point is that a lot of people are very upset about a lot of things that just don’t make a wink of sense. How about we start thinking a little bit before we judge evil? Then maybe we can actually do some good.

Randy is a sophomore in Arts & Sciences. He can be reached via e-mail at r.brachman@gmail.com.

Let’s take the luge, for example. Or skeleton, I suppose. The only difference is body position, right? Anyway, this is literally one of the most boring things possible to watch on television. The first time I see someone sled down a track, it might be marginally exciting. The odds would be better if I could see the whole track or if I were given any clue about what the big picture might look like. The odds would also be better if it looked like the athletes were doing anything that looked remotely athletic. It looks like they are just sitting there sliding downhill. It shocks me that someone somewhere thought this would be fun to watch.

But it gets worse. After the first person goes, we are treated to the exact same thing umpteen times, with exactly two changes. The sledders’ uniforms change colors and designs, and the amount of time it takes them to complete the race differs by an amount of time that I cannot even experience because the constant cuts give me no frame of reference. The same can be said about any skiing event, the various figure-skating and ice-dancing events (though to a slightly lower degree), and every event that does not feature head-to-head competition.

I can just not watch the Olympics if I don’t want to, though, right? After all, if I ignore it, it’s like it’s not even there and my life goes on as normal, right? Wrong. I consider myself an avid TV watcher. Or, rather, I used to—because ever since the Olympics started, other TV has all but stopped. No network wants to risk their shows’ audiences defecting to the Olympics, so the airing of new episodes has all but ceased entirely. In their place are reruns or worse. The Winter Olympics are ruining TV for me, and I want them gone.

Randy is a sophomore in Arts & Sciences. He can be reached via e-mail r.brachman@gmail.com.

Now I’m sure that there are some die-hard football fans who were able to follow the game perfectly. I’m sure they could tell me at any given point what the odds were that such and such would happen or what the optimal play would be. (Though who would predict an onside kick before the fourth quarter?) Perhaps the Super Bowl was an enlightening experience for these people. Maybe it was even transcendent.

I do not come close to that level of understanding. There are some things I know, and football is not really one of them.

I used to say that I watched the Super Bowl for the commercials, which are generally considered to be some of the best around. Once they started getting halftime acts I liked (generally post-Janet Jackson incident), I said I watched it for the halftime show. This year was different. This was the year when I tried to watch the game for the game itself and not for any other reason.

This decision was not entirely mine, though I had no way of knowing that when I made it. The Who played a great set, but I could have just as easily listened to complete songs of theirs on my computer. They didn’t do anything especially unpredictable, and they didn’t do anything new.

The commercials this year were uniformly terrible, with a few exceptions. Google gave us a heartfelt Parisian love story, and Bud Light taught us important carpentry lessons. Apart from that, it was mostly just various departments working under the Doritos heading trying to out-bizarre each other. Throw in some creepy talking E*TRADE babies and you’ve got yourself a multi-million-dollar waste of time.

Now, I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy the game. I thought it looked pretty good. I could have saved myself two hours and just watched a highlight reel and the best commercials on YouTube afterwards. Perhaps the reason not to watch is not because the game is beyond my grasp. Perhaps it is the medium. With the ever-continuing spread of the ubiquity of entertainment on the Internet, I find fewer and fewer reasons to ever tune into anything else.

Randy is a sophomore in Arts & Sciences. He can be reached via e-mail at r.brachman@gmail.com.

Trying to end a discussion with “It’s just my opinion,” apart from being about as poor a debate technique as is possible, is probably the biggest cop-out that can be committed. This is a major pet peeve of mine. If you can’t support your opinion with anything other than the fact that it is your opinion, then it is most likely an uninformed or even outright wrong opinion. At the very least, it is not thought out at all and is therefore not worth having. But I digress.

If it truly is just a matter of taste, and if taste were immeasurable, then there would be no possible argument either way. Since no one ever says “It’s just my opinion” outside an argument, this is not the case. Therefore, there must be some way to approximate and quantify a measure of taste.

First, a definition of “better” must be established. It is not unreasonable to define “better” on a societal level, and this will make the distinction easier. The only way to objectively determine what is “best” is to allow society to make the judgment. Also, we will assume that people use money as a means to assign a value to something, and the more money they spend on a certain good or service, the “better” that good or service is. And since, as we all well know, time is money, time shall also be an indicator of quality.

Therefore, when comparing the quality of two things whose qualitative differences seem to stem simply from differences in tastes across people, the amount of money that society spends on each thing can be a measure of absolute quality. Granted, it is not entirely accurate. This is biased toward those with excess money to spend, and it really reflects society’s beliefs about the quality of the thing, rather than the thing’s inherent quality (although it can be argued—and I would argue—that there is no difference between the two).

In order to hedge our measure, we will include reviews (both consumer and professional) of whatever we are comparing. It takes time to go out and rate something, and even more to write a review. The more time that is spent, the more people care about what they are talking about and the more their opinions should be taken into account. Again, there are some biases, but I sincerely believe this is the best system we can have.

It passes the common sense test: “Inglourious Basterds” is better than “League of Extraordinary Gentlemen,” even without DVD sales.

Why would you ever do anything that is not fun? That is what I ask them. The answers are invariably some form of either “I don’t know” or “because I have to.” Neither of those is a sufficient reason to do something unenjoyable.

Socrates said, “The unexamined life is not worth living.” How could you do something without knowing why? Motivation is the key to every action. The only way to truly and completely do anything—and do it well—is to know why it must be done. And all motivation comes from within. The reason that anyone does anything comes from within. Not knowing your motivation simply means that what you are doing is not well thought out.

As to requirements, they are irrelevant. We all have to do things. But we oftentimes get a choice of what those things are, and even when we don’t, the simple fact that an action is required of us does not in any way preclude it from being fun. It is simply an issue of framing or gaming.

For instance, throughout the course of my college career, I have had to write a few essays. I have not particularly wanted to write the vast majority of them. That, however, is a very negative way of viewing the essays. Instead of trying to write something I did not want to write, I changed the topic of the essay to something I wanted to write about. This makes the process fun. Also, passion shines through in writing and improves it. By framing the essays in a way that made them fun to write, I improved their quality.

Some things are hard to frame. Sometimes, you have to walk for a long stretch all alone. You have no one to talk to. Maybe it’s raining. Casting this in a positive light is going to be tough. Why not play a game? Maybe you watch other walkers—solitary or otherwise—and come up with backstories for them. Maybe you relive the last great moment you had. Maybe you just fantasize about being in a different place. Maybe you take a Superball out of your pocket and start bouncing it as you go. No matter what you do, though, simply by doing something you enjoy, you’ve taken a dull and boring walk and turned it into something much, much more.

Robert Heinlein once wrote, “Man is the animal that laughs.” Oscar Wilde wrote, “Life is far too important a thing to ever talk seriously about it.” Let loose. Have fun. Do what you like; like what you do. Not only is it the best way to live life, but it is also the only way to live life well.

Weekends were tough. In defiance of all possible logic, Bear Lair is the only eatery open for most of the day on weekends.  I value my sleep and don’t like breakfast foods, so brunch was out of the question. I went on many a lonely walk to campus on Saturday or Sunday afternoons. Luckily, I could schedule many of my weekend meals around times I had to be on campus anyway, so I wasn’t going out of my way.

As time wore on, I got more and more used to my routine. I started eating less fried food and more vegetables. I was walking more. My cheeseburger consumption dropped to alarmingly low levels. My overall quality of life declined—not by much, but by enough. By the end of September, my craving for a Half and Half was palpable.

I decided I would give in. My boycott would end with the first full month of school. I reasoned that I’d already gotten my message out; I’d already made enough of a statement. Plus, I’d heard rumors of major changes to Bear Lair. The last week was very tough, but when I went to Bear Lair just after midnight on Oct. 1, I brought the best Half and Half I’ve ever had back to my suite.

Since then, I’ve returned a few times. I have yet to try a sandwich (the limited and avocado-filled menu is intimidating, and the panini press seems much less friendly than the toaster did), but I have not been entirely satisfied with the rest of my experiences.

Bear Lair’s only improvement over last year’s Bear’s Den is the addition of Tater Tots. Every other change is at best negligible but, far more often, drastically worse. The lack of seating, total absence of Bosco sticks, still-overpriced food and so on have all been talked about ad infinitum. It is highly unlikely that any of that will be changed anytime soon.

What can, should and—dare I say—must be changed, though, is the system of paying before receiving food. This system is highly inconvenient and leads to huge mistakes. It makes customizing orders much more difficult. It lengthens the time it takes to get food and encourages mix-ups. There is and can be no benefit to the student through this policy.

A few weeks ago, I overheard three freshman girls while walking to class. One was telling the other that she was constantly encouraged to steal food whenever she could because Bon Appétit steals from us. Perhaps they should try to protect themselves in a better way: one that does not foster these thoughts.