Retrospective Rhetoric and Something on Bugs

The bees are out again. It means that graduation will almost be upon us again. This time around, however, I will be one of the many students going through the commencement weekend as a participant instead of an observer. How does this make me feel? Sad, scared, excited and unfocused. Because I am so scattered, this week I will allow the two article ideas that have been floating in my head to organically flow into a homogenous stew. So without further ado, an article on bidding adieu and large insects.

Oberlin, oh Oberlin, where hath the years gone? One second I am a naive, idealistic high school graduate; and the next, I am a naive, idealistic college grad. How quickly the years pass us by. It seems like only yesterday that I walked with a co-dependent freshmen pack to go from Burton to Stevenson.

Speaking of packs, large insects seem to have been invading the Oberlin campus within the past month. It started with 2 foot-long earthworms slithering along the pathways, and it continues with scary insects the size of "The Dark Crystal" skeksies.

Ah, I can remember watching "The Dark Crystal" in the Burton basement. Burton 2-East and 2 West were all down there. We were all hooking-up together in the dark shadows of the room, like carefree kitties.

If I still had my cat on campus, she would absolutely destroy the giant insects. Last year she single-handedly destroyed a bat that had flown in my house. Like the trained Kung-Fu cat that she was, she leaped in the air, and in one single swoop knocked the poor bat unconscious. I kicked my cat out of the way before she bit off the spinning head of the bat. I guess cats like bats. But bats eat insects.

And I ate hummus throughout my four years on this campus. I can remember the first time I had Feve humus. I eventually learned that the Feve's was the best hummus in town. Love of hummus will always be something subtly special about the Oberlin community.

And ants love hummus too. Large, shiny, black ants. I know of three Oberlin houses with major ant problems. These residents feel they are living in the movie "Microcosms." My girlfriend's house not only has ants, it also has tarantula-sized spiders that crawl out of the kitchen sink drain whenever a housemate does the dishes.

As much as doing the dishes is a pain, memories of the Co-op experience will never fade. Although I never joined a Co-op, I can understand the cherishing of fond memories many graduating co-oper's are feeling now. I will remember Oberlin as one of the few places where Co-ops can operate successfully, while in full cooperation with a college administrative body.

If Co-ops didn't operate smoothly, the town of Oberlin would be in big trouble because large insects love dirty, co-op-size kitchens. The town would be overrun by the arthropodic creatures who would quickly and effortlessly take over the Oberlin administration. Nancy Dye would not have a chance. The gigantic insects would teach students a new meaning for "Learning and Labor." We would be their human slaves. We would be doomed!

"Learning and Labor," indeed. These four years have taught me that it takes little of both to truly understand what it means to be a scholar.

Screw being a scholar, a giant ant could snap one's spinal column with one swift husking of the ant mouth!

And finally, I will never forget the amount of screwing that goes on in this campus. We all love each other, and this is good. Rather than partake in violent Greek-life activities, we get together as a common body and take communal showers or share in each other's fruits at weekend orgies. Oberlin social life has been an orgy of fun for me, and I will miss it dearly.

But you won't miss the giant ants if they suddenly decide to leave Oberlin and invade Wellington in an orgy of blood. Wellington's State Liquor Store has the worst business hours. I would not be upset if Wellington was destroyed by the giant insects that are living amongst are walls today. Go away giant insects, go away!

And now it is time for me to go away to a new place I must learn to call a home, and to a new job I must call a job. Congratulations seniors! We've made it!

Unless of course a giant, man-eating, ant delivers the key-note.

-Dave Marcus