A Modest Proposal for the Master Plan

A modest proposal -- that is all. Some of you may say that it is too much too soon, but I can assure those of you who will find cause to doubt in the most benign invitations that I suggest nothing that the future does not hold already. For three years I have waited for a change, waited for our venerable leader's Master Plan to take hold of our hallowed campus and lift it to that higher plane, return it to its natural station as the utopian fellowship that it once was. And whilst I shudder to think that I may be thought impatient, a brutish oaf blind to the finer intricacies of such a noble endeavor, three years is a long time to wait.

I have watched as already congested dining halls have become saturated to the point of anarchy, where the once unthinkable cheese omelet has become commonplace in the bitter name of efficiency. I have watched compatriots who rely and depend upon overdue library notices and desperate invitations to Cleo functions as their only source for bookmarks and scrap paper be uprooted, torn from their mailboxes and relocated to strange and foreign aisles, feet, sometimes yards away. And I have watched with watering eyes as friends and colleagues night after night are forced to go home with ugly, ugly women. My fellow students, the time for change is now.

Thankfully the first step has already been taken and none too soon. The lackadaisical Campus Safety officers of yesteryear are currently being phased out in favor of a more rigorous and academically conscious security personnel. It would seem self-evident that the safety of the campus should not be of any greater import to this body than the health and well-being of our buildings, shrubbery, or pedestrians. It is rather the establishment which merits attention from these new school safety officers. This is an institution of higher learning and the days of over-paid, under-worked lollygaggers disguised as authority figures are, I am proud to say, on their way out. The new S.S. officers are a welcome change, and provide the long-awaited means for stamping out the crude and plebeian habit of alcohol consumption that feasts upon this community like a cancer. Soon call boxes will be installed at every street corner, providing upright citizens a direct line of communication with our officers. 24 hours a day will it then be possible to report any and every half-witted denizen prancing about in the wee hours of the morning with an ungodly open container.

Certainly at some point, the Master Plan will call for and provide some form of detention and torture center, but until that point anyone suspected of consuming alcohol will be dealt with in an appropriate and timely fashion.

Sadly and inevitably, it has long been known that Freshmen have a vile and incurable lust for the drug. To help expedite the process of cleansing our campus, we must all join together and persevere in their identification. Brothers and sisters, I urge you: if you know or think you know a Freshman who lacks the proper student identification cards, turn them in immediately.

They may be in your classes. They may be your neighbors. They may even be your roommates. And though they may not be drinking now, they will be. It is your duty to the College to report them and to stop their misguided and destructive behavior before it has a chance to begin.

With your help, we can save them from themselves and help them to become productive members of our society. Reported Freshmen will be rounded up and put to work in the construction of dormitories, sandwiches, and mortar casings. And I for one am hungry. So fear not; this proud, historic plot of earth we call a campus will one day be lifted from the dirty mud of contamination and into the light of drier ground. It's all a part of the Master Plan.