I don’t mean to use this space as a soapbox. I’d rather not bore you with another diatribe on politics, or dazzle you with anecdotes about drinking iced coffee on campus.

What I am obligated to do, faithful readers, is wax philosophical on the egregious displays of stupidity found throughout our fine institution. I’ll probably do this every week. I’ve got nothing on the crossword. 

Living in squalor is most definitely a rite of passage for the college male; a male that likes to drink beer with a hundred of his closest friends. Why else would the fine towers adjacent to campus be laid with the of finest concrete flooring? The bachelor life, especially with roommates, is like “Lord of the Flies,” but with Xbox, and angry women. Admittedly, scrubbing superdog-and-jungle-juice barf out of white carpet is no picnic, and good luck getting your security deposit back after the bro in the Affliction shirt punches holes in your living room wall to impress the ladies. 

I come from the generation where the Disney Channel was a luxury for kids lucky enough to have cable TV. My parents were the wacky sort of folks that made me read books and go outside. The few hours I was in front of the tube, I spent on “Sesame Street.” I think the dopers used to make the children’s shows, what, with the giant slow-talking bird that sees a magical furry elephant named Mr. Snuffleupagus. I could rant about how that turned into an hour of Elmo screaming at me, but that’s for another time.

“Sesame Street” re-enforced quite a few basic tenants in regard to functioning within a modern society, things like hand-washing, picking up your litter, making potty in the toilet; you know, things that elude a substantial portion of our peers.

I’m not saying we’re all to blame, but indifference is definitely part of the problem. When we’re content to live like swine, we’ll all become pigs.

Campus is not a trash can. 

I look around and I see litter everywhere. Snack wrappers, pens, even this newspaper. I’d fault the lack of trash receptacles on campus if such a lack existed, but it doesn’t. There’s no excuse. I can understand the apathy in light of the never-ending construction and FPM’s penchant for ill-placed fencing, but there was a time when our campus was considered one of the prettiest in the nation. Nobody seems to care anymore. 

Apparently, the best and brightest minds of the Iowa middle class weren’t potty-trained with much success. I have no idea how one goes about filling a toilet bowl completely full, much less missing it all together, and I see it every week. I was taught to aim for the potty, flush the potty and wash my hands — I think I’m among the minority.

I could amaze you with the microbiology of how gross that all is, but let’s consider something: There are about 35,000 people on campus any given day. Think of every elevator button, every door handle, every keyboard, every surface you come in contact with that’s been touched by someone before you, someone who doesn’t like to wash their hands after their business. Pleasant, no? How many different people touch that exact same spot?

The stupidity of John or Jane Q. Pedestrian blows my mind.

Iowa State is a pedestrian campus? Pat yourself on the back. Does this give you divine prerogative to jaywalk at your leisure? Only if your god says you’re allergic to kryptonite. I wish we lived in the world where I could pop people with a paintball gun from my motorcycle. Just the dumb ones with a death wish for both of us. Do you have any idea how hard it is to drift a motorcycle to the left? I should just plow into the next one. They’d probably start a scholarship fund. 

I was traveling down Osborn Drive in one of the fancy new Cybrids the other day when I noticed a tiny girl biking on the sidewalk. She was moving about as fast as last weekend’s defense — heyo! — and had those stupid white headphones jammed into her head. I’d rather put rocks in my ears. They sound like Fran Drescher drowning a barn cat. 

I don’t know whether they were attached to an iPod, or if they were hooked to some contraption sucking the common sense from her brain, but she pulled out into the street. Didn’t look around, didn’t speed up, didn’t give the slightest of indications that she’d planned on pulling out in front of the 16-ton bus going 25 mph.

My parents taught me to look both ways before crossing the street, advice anyone with the slightest of appreciation for physics can understand. Crosswalks aren’t magical zones of invincibility, and whatever possesses people to walk out in front of a moving vehicle with nary a second thought is beyond me.

Simply amazing.

We’re supposed to be smart, that’s why we’re here. That’s the way natural selection used to work. Fitness, it seems, has given way to stupidity. We’re all self-centered. We act without thought, completely disregarding the impact our actions have on those around us. If we’re content to live in our own filth, we deserve to choke on it.

They call us “generation me,” and they’re absolutely right.

Stay classy.