Student Life Archives

It’s Saturday morning. All of the sudden, you feel an overwhelming urge to crack open your books. Astounded by this rare impulse, you decide to actually get some work done. As you walk over to the library, you begin to notice something you had never paid attention to before: the remnants of a Friday night carelessly strewn all over the South 40.

Last year Washington University took part in a recycling competition with 16 other universities. The 10-week competition ranked each university by the amount of recyclable material each student could produce. Miami University succeeded in securing the number one position with 58.28 lbs/person. Washington University placed last with 3.87 lbs/person – 15 times less than that of the leading schools.

Now, before we start pointing fingers, we must realize that certain variables probably don’t help the situation, such as poorly labeled disposal containers, St. Louis city restrictions on recycling and the lack of adequate instruction. Yet, these factors alone cannot account for this massive discrepancy. Other universities must face some of the same recycling roadblocks that we encounter, but they are capable of instituting successful programs. With this, we must wonder if these uncontrollable variables constitute just a deceptive layer of excuses under which the true problem lies. Are we – the students, the faculty, the staff – at least somewhat responsible?

We have all heard of the “Wash U. Bubble” where academia and partying take precedence over other priorities. At one point or another we all have fallen into this trap of only seeing narrow bands of importance in our college lives. But this does not give us the right to renege on our personal responsibilities that we once took pride in claiming. It seems as though once thrown into the college scene, many of us (myself included) become so wrapped up in our own desires and aspirations that we refuse to respond to issues that once compelled us.

Now, this troubling issue extends far beyond the realm of recycling programs. For example, many of us have lost touch with the rest of the world. Most of us grew up reading the newspaper and watching the news. We took pride in becoming informed of the events that shaped the environment around us. Yet now it seems as though our only concerns revolve around GPAs and the next place to get drunk.

I am not trying to reprimand the Washington University community. Rather, I wish simply to expose a personal observation that has become more and more evident to me. So now we must pose this question to ourselves: Where did our pride go? Just because our atmosphere has changed doesn’t mean that our self-imposed duties can. In a recent survey, 97% of Wash U. students admitted that recycling could improve on campus. So, I beg of you, whether you are finishing up at the library and tossing your notes away, or cleaning up after a party and getting rid of a massive bag of beer cans – think twice about blindly lobbing them into the garbage.

This has been a pretty fun week, being the last week of classes and all. Despite the fact that I went out every night of the week, I’ve still made it to all my classes and managed to learn a few things in the process. I’ve decided to impart my wisdom upon you.

On Monday I learned that the best way to impress your professors in ArtSci is to wear a suit to your presentations. I took business Spanish this semester with one of my friends and our final presentation was on Monday. We both dressed up in suits and ties, something that we’ve gotten quite used to over here in the preschool, and the effect was quite dramatic. Even outside of class the effect was noticeable. I received compliments from all sorts of random people and I had more than my fair share of girls longingly gazing in my direction. Some of the looks probably had to do with the fact that very few people have ever seen someone with a red faux-hawk wear a Donna Karen suit as well as I do. Either way, wearing a suit convinces people that you are a lot more professional than you actually are. This point was well illustrated the following morning.

I had changed my shirt and tie to a more casual black dress shirt and no-tie look for $4 Martinis at Drunken Fish. It was there that I learned that you can make a great martini with sake and that a faux-hawk in a night club is an immediate invitation for conversation. I eventually passed out on Hiram’s couch, after hanging up my suit, of course, and woke up Tuesday morning with just enough time to get re-dressed and go to class. While sitting in the back of accounting class a friend of mine complimented me on how nice I looked. I was still kinda messed up after a night of pounding martinis so my response was “I know.” Lesson number four: never say that to a girl. If I hadn’t been sitting down I’m sure she would have kicked me in the junk.

Later on that evening I watched “Blade: Trinity” with some friends and managed to learn some great things from that movie. Most importantly, I learned that, to vampires, fat people taste like Cheetos. After going to Wal-Mart Wednesday afternoon I soon learned why. Approximately 99.9% of Wal-Wart shelf space is devoted to other worldly engineered foods that contain not a damn thing that people should consume on a regular basis, yet the fat people in the store were stocking up like the stuff was going out of style. Listen people, even if the tapioca pudding is marked “6 grams total carbs low fat no sugar added,” it’s still not okay to eat them by the dozen. Slow down and have an apple or something.

During lunch on Wednesday afternoon I learned that all the girls on campus really just want to go on dates with guys. I was talking with Slav’s girlfriend and her friends who, by the way, are totally sweet and super awesome, and we got on the subject of serious relationships in college. I told them that throughout my four years in college the longest relationship I had was the one morning I decided to actually walk a girl back to her dorm on the 40. I then told them that, while sleeping with random smelly pirate hookers was okay, I really missed going on dates with girls and doing things other than getting drunk and hooking up. The collective sigh that they emitted was only matched by the sigh that girls make when they see famous babies dressed up like flowers. They then proceeded to tell me that I’m the nicest guy ever and that it really made their day to hear me say that.

I personally don’t think that any girls on campus want to go on dates, or maybe it’s just that no girls want to go on dates with me, but either way if any cute girls out there want to go on a date with me before school is out just send me an e-mail. Anyway, I’m getting ready to head out to $1 beer/$1 sake at Modai (it’s Wednesday), so I’m gonna stop right here. Enjoy WILD and if you run into me keep in mind that I’ve probably checked out for the night and that it’s really Mr. Hyde that you’re witnessing.

With a trembling hand, Nietzsche declared God dead – and I, for one, agree with him. For Nietzsche, however, the realization was hardly a triumph: he envisioned the dissolution of the Western world, he shook with insecurity. Our world, according to Nietzsche, was recast as “a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.” In sum, man couldn’t continue without his myth, reason couldn’t maintain the State – and Nietzsche prepared for the unraveling. Cue fiery decline.

But the State has stood; and it was modernism, not nihilism that emerged from the rubble of the old myths. We’ve taken careful steps towards the secular and the foundations of society have remained intact. What are the consequences for the future of our religious institutions? Assuming the nonexistence of God – and this is a point I won’t attempt to defend – can we expect a reimagining of the church? Does it alter our values? Change the way we raise our children?

For me, the absence of anything above is empowering – you are free from fate and what you make of this world is your own doing, your own responsibility. More importantly, for our purposes, it presents the opportunity to reopen the debate in logical terms about the way we want to live. We can be free ourselves from the superstitions of past cultures and instead be a part of actively, guiltlessly shaping our values. Free from the threat of judgment and liberated from past dogmas we can discuss and debate what the “great truths” of our time, our history will be.

Still, a godless world is not without its flaws: for me, the role of the church is difficult to let go. I spent my childhood in the arms of a comforting church and it’s something I regard as both valuable and formative. It was a place to grow up gently, a sense of grounding and security. But we can do better. We can recognize new realities and evolve away from the church – from religion entirely. Using perspective to our advantage we can take that which is advantageous and leave the undesirable. We can adapt the strong sense of community and fellowship that religion provides, without reproducing the reliance on mysticism. We can create an institution that imparts morality and educates our children without intellectual close-mindedness.

Religion has been outmoded and I propose “the Center” to take its place. My hypothetical “Center” – and I’ve been told there’s something like it somewhere in Chicago – would meld the indispensable qualities of the church with a progressive, modernist perspective. I imagine something like the following:

The Center would meet weekly – preferably somewhere geographically “central” to the community it serves. The sanctuary of the church would be replaced by the lecture hall of the Center. As an important feature of the Center would be its role in imparting basic – though democratically determined – moral values, the Center would be for children as much as adults. The Center would strive to present models for children to aspire to. Each lecture would begin with a colorful biography of great figures in world or American history. Themes and morals would be highlighted – though interpretation would be flexible. Next, the children of the congregation would be presented with an “ethical dilemma of the week” which they would “solve” in small groups during the adult-oriented section of the lecture. Additionally, in order to foster cultured young men and women – and to facilitate the sense of community – music would be a regular part of the lecture. From Chopin to Bob Dylan, each lecture would feature a musical performance or offer an opportunity for the congregation to sing together. Having been presented a useful biography, a light lecture, a constructive ethical dilemma and some music, the children would leave the lecture to discuss together in groups arranged by age.

With the children gone, the adult portion of the lecture would begin. Ideally, the lecture would be led by a different professor each week. The lectures would vary greatly from speaker to speaker: one might offer social criticism, another a review of a classic text; art history lectures and a review of recent progressions in the natural sciences would be equally common. The Center would aim to be a home for debates, book reviews, documentaries, politics – all things cultural. While the topics addressed would be wide-ranging, the mission of the Center would be simple: inform and engage the community in an attempt to refine our values.

Now to be sure, my Center is just a hypothetical, a fiction; still, with a little work we could remake our religious institutions and find an agreeable, secular alternative.

Not long ago, there was a wall in the middle of campus. It showcased political graffiti and attempted to obscure the messy construction site behind it. Many moons later, a spaceship-esque building rose up in its stead, thus marking the birth of what Washington University students fondly refer to as “the library.”

You may have also noticed that along with this vastly improved, albeit architecturally atrocious haven of books, came a multitude of visitors outside of the student/staff/faculty body. In Whisper’s Caf‚, as you stand in line for three hours for a mocha, you may or may not notice the influx of strangers making copious use of our library facilities.

Although you may feel as though your private domain is being infringed upon, these friendly visitors from outside the bubble are actually a good thing. Barring sketchy pedophiles and old men searching for a place to masturbate, we should welcome community members into our library and allow them to use our facilities.

Although we should not allow people who do not contribute to the academics here to print endless amounts of meaningless dribble on our precious paper, there is no reason why we should keep our wide selection of books to ourselves.

A college library is a precious commodity for many communities, and Olin should be no different. Visitors should be allowed to use the reference items as long as they don’t take anything home with them.

We are lucky to attend a school that provides us with such a valuable resource for our studies. There is no reason to deny our surrounding community access to such a treasure. It is always a good idea to improve our school’s relationship with the outside world.

In that same vein, though, we have several requests for the guests of Olin: please do not take anything home with you that you didn’t bring in. Please don’t expose yourself in the B stacks. Please don’t spill that deliciously overpriced coffee on any of our books. Please don’t answer your cell phone or cackle loudly while in a “quiet zone.” Please sit on the floor if you have to stay awhile, because finding desk/chair space is tough, particularly during reading week. Thanks. It’s been nice doing business with you.