James Early, Humor Columnist
Because fuck you, that’s why. Now now, don’t jump all over me about gratutious swearing. I just wrote an article denouncing censorship, after all. It may seem a bit too soon to be referencing a week-old publication, but I thought it was appropriate considering none of you took my pleas of aid and succor very seriously. This week, my dear readers, I find myself still shackled with the added discomfort of a spreading skin irritation. Wonderful, truly wonderful.
The start of this article is not vulgar. It is the mantra of our generation. We, as college students, no longer feel any need to justify our actions. Our existence seems justification enough, does it not? We are the elite, the chosen few, who grace this run-down, one horse town with our (or rather “our parents,” in most of your cases) hard earned cash. But take heed, my darling readers, for we face a growing plague.
The current pandemic amongst our generation doesn’t seem to be STDs, swine flu or alcoholism (though my bar tab may disagree on that last point). No, our college-age population is afflicted with both apathy and selfishness. For those of you lacking in either and without a dictionary, let me be more neanderthalic: the number of fucks you give about others is directly improportional to the number of fucks you give about yourself. It is a sort of moral masturbation and we are all drowning in it. I will refrain from referencing what we’re drowning in so as not to brand this publication as smut.
Many of you are laughing now at my crude language and vivid metaphor. That may be good because this is a humor column, after all. However, dear readers, a select few of you may frown and not know why. I can tell you. Deep in the self-loving, self-hating dramatic bullshit that you’ve thrown about your fragile psyche, a once great avatar of loving and caring lies weak and emaciated. That is your altruistic self, the selfless giver who peer pressure and pop culture has taught you was too weak to survive in the real world.
If I sound a bit melodramatic it is because I haven’t eaten anything other than Mills’ To-Go and I am fairly certain the resident cockroaches are plotting a mutiny while I sleep. But ask yourself, what was the last charitable thing you did? Donate blood? Join a community project for a day? Give out soup? I myself have plumbed the depths of my dark mind for thought nuggets, brought them to the surface and polished them into wisdom diamonds, and all simply to bring you a smile and some enlightenment. Well, that and my glorious Editor (may She be praised) has offered me freedom in exchange for another semester’s worth of articles. Let me tell you now, however, that those individual acts of kindness mean nothing beyond your pitiful attempts to feel like part of the human race.
I will give you an example, of course- the floods. Some of you may have simply used our most recent day off as an excuse to drink (I know I would have). Most of you failed to realize that such flooding caused not only millions of dollars in property damage, but inestimable losses in homes and lives. The livelihoods of many people were washed away, and so far I have only heard honest concern from the students directly impacted by it. Shame on you, Oneonta, and double shame on you, dear readers. As my beautiful and marginally brilliant audience, you should be as selfless as I am. Now, you obviously can not write a masterpiece in your local newspaper as I have done, but you can certainly start up a fundraising campaign and demand that the school help organize reconstruction efforts. I would appeal to your humanity, but I fear that died along with the sense of modesty I saw lacking in our female population’s evening attire this last weekend.
No, readers, I will brave this storm of apathy alone and I will free myself from this prison (this time I am speaking literally). I will do what I can to remain considerate and cautious, modest and respectful, charitable and concerned. In fact, I plan on donating my next paycheck, in its entirety, to aid in the flood recovery efforts. Some of you more self ingrates may ask me why I do such a financially damning thing. Why? Because fuck you, that’s why.
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