I came to this University bright-eyed and bushy-tailed last fall. Despite always having a permanent residence 20 minutes outside of Eugene, I’d never really been to the University campus.
As far as hippies go, I had my share of run-ins with them around town. I expected this campus to be rampant with them, but quite the opposite is the case. Everyone seemed normal — too normal.
You hear about the protests, the radicalism and the hippies when you’re learning about the University. A fear of mine had been figuring out where I was going to fit in as a product of the war machine springing to life. Having read about the University’s ROTC building being lit on fire in protest of the Vietnam War, I half-expected to be spat on, verbally attacked and generally shunned for my military service.
I cringe at the thought of what has happened to other veterans.
I say all this because, let’s face it: Protesters are dicks. They never just show up and say what they have to say. They lash out at you with fervor and personal attacks, and if you’re not with them, then you’re against them.
My fears were justified but luckily unfounded here in Eugene.
I never faced any of this here at the University. Student apathy is high, which is great because there are fewer people being annoying and bothering me. I don’t have any proof, but I think this is because regular people, not ideologues, the affluent and people seemingly born to crusade, are coming to college. I think people haven’t really noticed this shift toward apathy as much the last few years because it’s been so pleasant not being hassled.
In today’s world, protesting is a lost art. What people in power actually pay attention to protests? What actually gets changed?
The thing about running around in front of a building with signs is that it’s annoying. The thing about yelling at government officials or random passers-by is that it just makes them pissy.
Every Friday there’s an anti-war protest in Corvallis. It started in protest of Operation Enduring Freedom. It’s been more than eight years now. There have been more than 400 protests. War is still going on.
Radically changing topics, I still believe people with concealed weapons permits should be able to defend themselves on University soil and in buildings because it’s a public university. The sad fact of the matter is that a campus is the one place I don’t feel safe. When I go into a bank or Safeway or the Horsehead, I never think twice about my safety. But wandering around the University has me constantly spotting for cover and planning escape routes. The trend of campus rampages in the last two decades is a horrifying reminder, and the problem is campuses are an easy mark.
Everyone is unarmed. The Department of Public Safety can’t carry firearms. If some psychopathic wing-wong sneaks a gun on campus (which there is no way to guard against), we’re all steaks on the barbie.
My solution: walls with manned ramparts and “Macapults.” If we’re invaded by deranged gun-people, we can fling iMacs at them and have that be the end of it.
Speaking of Macs, and when it comes down to fighting the good fight, I will always stand up for freedom and democracy. And Macintosh, much like Communist Russia under Stalin, is just pure, dagnasty evil. The sort of irredeemable evil that can only be fought with constant vigilance and perseverance.
Switching gears radically once again, as a human being I choose to represent a pastoral, idyllic America. That’s not to say uneducated and necessarily remote, but a hardworking, simple life far from the smog of freeways and the hustle and bustle of Birkenstocks making tracks to Voodoo Doughnuts. Life outside the cities is almost like a bubble and seems unaffected by this scandal or that international crisis.
The last point I want to make is that I love America. I love the idea of America. I love what America stands for. The principles of freedom and democracy seem muddied at times, if not completely barreled over the top of, but nevertheless, I remain the effervescent patriot. America isn’t just 50 states’ worth of land, or a way of life, or a super-power. It’s the belief that as a society, culture and species, we can communally achieve a better way of life that is more representative of the people. And while it is imperfect, I would fight for it to my dying breath, without question and without fail. The chance this idea for a better life could continue on the long road to perfection is worth any risk and sacrifice. And I will never forget the heroes who have been making that sacrifice since the earliest rumblings of the
American Revolution.
That summation of every major viewpoint I have being said within the scope of this column: I will say goodbye now. Saying goodbye is one of the most awkward tasks within our culture. If it’s too short and sweet, you’re left with that nagging sensation you should have given one more hug, or said one more thing, or done anything, basically, to extend the moment. If you linger too long, you’re left with feelings of being creepy.
So, here goes. It’s been a fun, strange trip at the Emerald. From columnist to opinion editor, I started out writing about technology, but that mostly merged into Macintosh hatred. Then I decided to write about things that were closer to my heart. I’ve learned a ton and enjoyed every minute of it.
As I close out this, my final column as opinion editor for the Emerald, I wish to thank you all for reading. Not just the opinion page, but the rest of the Emerald, too. While I can’t speak for everyone at the Emerald, I don’t think many would disagree that ultimately, we couldn’t do what we do without you, the reader. Also, the letters were great; keep it up for next year.
P.S. *hugs*
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