Sign of the times


Your Student Assembly inched closer to earning the dubious distinction of a failed state during Tuesday’s meeting. What was once a well-oiled, albeit unproductive, governing body descended further into entropy as a stylish powerpoint illuminated an otherwise dim classroom with slides detailing the aimless and unfocused actions of a legislature that has abandoned all pretense of accountability.

While I have mixed feelings regarding the conduct of As. V.P. of Student Affairs Mark Constantine during my time at the College, his presence was comforting amidst the dizzying parade of disregard that one is subjected to when in the company of senators. While he may have misused a few funds here and there, Constantine at least has the sense to refrain from the giddily idle laughter that has become a hallmark of senate meetings.

As Senator Michael Douglass grew bored with finance’s budget presentation, he courageously flouted the bounds of censure and found Constantine wandering the lonely expanse of Tyler 203. Selecting their every word with a palpable intent, they spoke of the definitive Manhattan recipe, sport and the drenched darkness that they kindly referred to as a Williamsburg Winter. They quickly disengaged to resume the work of the people.

The SA approved a measure allocating $4,000 to the petty cash fund of those responsible for cajoling unsuspecting graduates to donate to the senior class gift. It was said that without this money there would be no senior class gift and in turn, no future. Out-of-state tuition is a generous donation for the neurological hills and valleys carved in my psyche by the College. The case was made that on purely selfish grounds, you should donate to the College because the more impressive the College is, the more impressive you become to prospective employers. It is in our interest, in the words of our class president, to become a “life-long advocate of the school.” This is the logic of someone who has absolutely no faith in his own abilities and his ability to effectively contribute to society beyond the radiant prestige of our alma mater.

I flatly refuse to live and die by this institution and by proxy the Commonwealth of Virginia. My last desperate gasp of scholasticism has been haunted by crushingly vivid premonitions of Bob McDonnell’s unavoidable 2012 campaign for Czar of North America and the possible futures his ultimate authority would unfurl. Virginians will most likely be subjected to militarized work camps forming the foundation of McDonnell’s post-election restructuring process, disseminating notions of unrequited freedom within the friendly confines of the police state. Americans will remain largely indifferent to what McDonnell can only describe as the de-gaying of America, in spite of the governor being armed to the teeth in preparation for an insurgency.

Infrastructure will be reevaluated and television will be heavily monitored. Range of motion will be drastically reduced. Secondary education will fade to strained whispers overheard in unsecured taverns. Higher education will be wiped from our memories. Just saying, I’m not so sure about hitching my wagon to anything remotely within the indiscriminate wrath of the feverishly festering conservative rancor that has come to fashion. And even if McDonnell doesn’t mandate a little corrective brain surgery, I can guarantee that he will leave the College, and America as a whole, in worse shape than he found it. Given this grim projection, knowing that I can directly give to the government department in order to really put my own stamp on the donation is less than appealing.

Now that you’re in the holiday spirit, rest easy knowing that the SA has got you covered for airport rides this Thanksgiving with an allocation of $4,500. Be sure to catch a sneak preview of the aforementioned impending doom when you’re going through security. Wearing some variety of lead-based clothing might abate the colossal doses of radiation that are currently being introduced into the population via full body scanners.

While I have come to terms with the future of our country, this may be a bitter pill to swallow for those still pulling for their precious representative democracy. Fortunately, the SA has allocated $4,000 (with the option of up to another $4,000) to pay for free massages during finals. Loosen up!