I am writing this piece while headed to Philadelphia, sitting on a bus with a backpack full of homework that needs to get done in the next six hours. Everything, though, seems to distract me. I chalk this up to poor decisions, like sitting in the back of the bus. The area basks in the soft fragrance emanating from the restroom and the guy sitting in front of me seems to be watching either “Desperate Housewives” or a porno on his laptop. So, by default, I am not actually writing my essays or working on problem sets. I am too busy covering my eyes and pinching my nose. See no evil, smell no evil.
Instead of working, I am busy listening to a song called “Vamos a la Playa” and fantasizing about my upcoming summer while reading instructions on my computer about how to make a gigantic sand castle. Themed procrastination! They say procrastination is in fact a normal aspect of college work, and usually the most time-consuming part. At least that’s what someone posted on Facebook.
I am a mere novice when it comes to procrastination. The true masters of the trade have orchestrated a house-wide war to distract us all from upcoming deadlines and projects and essays and midterms and finals. Nearly every house on campus has now been drawn into a widening fray involving everything from dining hall staff to cockroaches. The conflict is sure to escalate over the next several days.
It all started when Currierites voted in a poll for Adams’ future mascot, and picked the acorn. Adams then declared war on Currier. This, of course, raises a serious question. Why on earth would Adams House have put an acorn as one of the mascot options? If the entire house is willing to go to war to prevent something from representing them, the survey organizers should have simply left the item off the form. An acorn! Ha! Even a tree is a better mascot. (I have to constantly remind myself that not all houses can have a mascot as awesome as a gorilla.)
Now I suppose there must be some Adams residents who actually voted for the acorn. An interesting piece of journalism would focus on this rare species of Adams dweller, and question their loyalty to the house in its foolhardy war to prevent the acorn from being its mascot. I will not write such an article. In fact, I have yet to meet even one of these acorn-loving people. This may be due to the fact that instead of participating in the war, I hopped on a bus and headed to Philly.
But back on campus, the Great Procrastination War of 2012 must be handled with delicacy on all sides. We must ensure the clash lasts through reading period without immediately fizzling out, like my Saturday nights, or peaking too soon, like other things. The student body demands distractions, and the cardinal rule of war-making is to give the people what they want. Are you not entertained?
I suggest starting a university-wide war, replete with nerf guns and Styrofoam shields. Imagine a cross between assassins and “Gladiator,” except ten times more epic and lasting until the end of the school year. The rules are simple: once shot, one must relinquish his or her weapon, unless attacked by friendly fire. Any reports of widespread cheating will result in the transgressing house losing access to its own dining hall. The house with the last surviving members, or dining hall access, wins. Once the game ends, all the houses will suddenly realize that the winner wins absolutely nothing, and a free-for-all will break out. It’ll be just like a snowball fight, except instead of snow we will be throwing around Adams residents.
War is spreading; even Henry Kissinger ’ 50 is involved in the conflict. The impending confrontation can be controlled, though, to a smaller scale than the Cold War. With the right guidelines in place, this conflict can be both extremely time-consuming and incredibly distracting. Unfortunately, my involvement will have to wait. I’m busy at the moment, procrastinating.
Jacob R. Drucker ’15, a Crimson editorial writer, lives in Straus Hall.