The question on everyone’s mind recently has been “Does UR care too much?” With the recent rash of nice comments, huge turn-out at basketball games in China, overwhelming crowds in the Hive and world-changing vigils it is hard not to think that UR students are far too motivated.

Huge shows of support for sports teams have caused the players to lose their concentration in the roar of five fans cheering. These are deplorable acts and should be stopped.

All of this caring has caused students to become satisfied with their lives on campus and actually know what is going on. We have traditions on this campus for a reason ? staying apathetic is a sacred way of life.

Administrators and student leaders have been meeting to try and determine how to handle the overwhelming outcry of spirit. Countless meetings bringing together all aspects of life at UR have scandalously created huge amounts of communication on campus. This is the wrong way to handle it.

Trying to find constructive solutions to our problems is a waste of time and it will only lead to more action on our campus. Students need to go back to their rooms and return to the isolated bliss that once abounded here. If some still feel the absolute need to have contact with other human beings, loud, idle, insidious complaining is the only safe action to take.

Students, administrators and faculty alike need to stop trying to change things. Instead, the UR community needs to either busy itself in screaming loud complaints and writing letters to the editor or just sitting back and relaxing. Since no one actually reads the OUAT, it is a safe bet to express your complaints in it. No one will know, and we will go back to a campus where no one cares.

The good old days are not gone ? just in need of a renewal. The UR community needs to get back on its collective butt and drink some iced tea in the sun.



Too much spirit

The argument I will make in this article is in defense of non-violent hazing. That is: hazing that does not lead to the death or injury of students. Read More


Too much spirit

We teach the Dust Bowl as a cautionary tale. In every American history class, we learn how farmers in the 1920s and 1930s tore up millions of acres of native grassland across the Great Plains to plant wheat, how the deep-rooted prairie grasses that held the soil and trapped moisture were replaced by shallow crops and bare fields, and, when drought came in 1930, how the exposed topsoil turned to dust. Read More