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Your Brain on College

Last night I stayed up until four o’clock in the morning discussing the merits of carrying a canister of bear mace as a just-in-case precaution for women concerned about rape.

My question is, “Why would a bear attempt to rape a woman?” But this stinks of the mindset I’ve adopted since arriving at college: I have lost my good judgment completely.

Horrible Idea: Yesterday I walked to Taco Bell to eat one or two of those new Volcano Tacos… I know. The walk back was a little sprightlier than the trek to Taco Bell. I think I can actually claim to have had a near-death experience now, but now I know that a taco with a red tortilla shell is actually trying to warn us of something. This whole thing seemed like a good idea until I realized I had a stick of lit dynamite in my pants.

Horrible Idea: About a week ago, I stuck myself into a cardboard box and willingly rolled down a really steep hill. I still have a headache. And I consider this one of the most fun things I’ve ever done. This seemed like a good idea, except that it was rolling down a hill in a cardboard box which, really, has no inkling of a good idea.

Horrible Idea: Despite a crippling fear of heights, I have agreed to jump from the top of a waterfall this weekend. Usually I don’t ask my friends who are afraid of spiders to shrink themselves down and allow themselves to be devoured whole by a hairy gray eight-legged bastard, nor do I ask my friend Maxwell to ride in a blimp (don’t ask). But I’m jumping from a waterfall this weekend, which should seem like a horrible idea to anybody even though a shocking majority of the students here have done just that. By virtue of the fact that they are alive, I am inclined not to believe them. And for the record, this never once seemed like a good idea.

Horrible Idea: At the football game on Saturday, an entire group of students booed at a security guard for taking the beach ball the students were throwing around the lawn. That security guard won’t know what hit him at the next home game when he gets rained on by beach balls. This seemed like a good idea, and actually still does.

Keep in mind that these things I’ve done are all much better ideas than attempting to mace a bear or rape someone. These things, however possibly harmful, fatal even, are truly fun and should be applauded.

Which brings us to this: According to USAToday.com, on August 26, 2008, a school in Brisbane, Australia banned cartwheels. Now kids, quote, “sit around and do nothing,” end quote, during lunch and recess. A local concerned Education Minister states that the area as a whole has a problem with “mollycoddling” its children, and this is apparently a great example of whatever-the-hell-that-is.

Just you wait, you Aussie children. When you get to college, there will be no more babying: You can make your own life-threatening decisions and not have a single fun-devouring adult tell you what to do. They don’t care when you reach this age. All that pent-up energy that would normally be wasted by cart wheeling can be spent rolling down hills in cardboard boxes or jumping to your death. And if you come to college here at Appalachian, as an added bonus you don’t have to listen to circus-speak like the word “mollycoddling.”

And there’s a Hungry Howie’s that delivers to campus.

And so last night, as I listened to a very off-color (colour?) debate over what actually counted as “an attempted rape,” and how little prodding it would take for some girls to blind me with a pepper spray intended for a mammal that weighs a ton and feasts on human flesh, I ate a honey bun and sat in my underwear, and I decided that I love college, partly because of my piss-poor decision making. I think I’m going to do a cartwheel to celebrate.

-Patrick Babcock

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