I think it was the ancient Greek philosopher Anonymous who said it best, “If you aren’t part of the solution, you’re part of the problem.”
I’ve spent the better part of my life trying to be part of the problem. There are just so many things out there I’d rather not be the solution to. Hemorrhoids, for example.
“Hey, this is my friend, Seth, he’s the solution to hemorrhoids.”
Sorry, but that’s one introduction I want no part of. Next thing you know, people all over are coming to rub their derrieres on me in an attempt for some butt relief.
Lately I’ve been undergoing a bit of a struggle with my conscience. Everywhere I look, people are finding problems with Dear Ol’ LSU. I guess I kind of feel like since I’ve given the school so much money over this last half-decade I should make an attempt to leave it better than I found it. You know, offer some solutions instead finding more problems.
Realistically, I’m not here to reinvent the wheel. I don’t have a solution for fewer instructors, bigger class sizes, or for the people who feel the need to repeatedly write all over the quad in chalk to Rachel that YBS hearts her.
But I did come up with a couple of things that will make a change for the better and – along with the Campus Master Plan and Midget Street Peddlers of America – will begin to attract the best and brightest students to LSU.
Problem 1: Black posts guarding the oak trees on campus.
Solution: I think protecting the trees is a great idea. Nobody wants to be at a football game singing our updated Alma Mater that begins, “Where trampled oaks and dead magnolias.” I just think that by using the black posts we’re turning our backs on the school’s heritage.
We are an Agricultural and Mechanical college. And what do good agriculturists use to protect things? You got it, the electric fence.
My friend, Jared, had an electric fence in his backyard when we were growing up protecting his mom’s garden from their dog. Whenever I’d go over there we’d take turns touching the fence. To this day, grabbing that electric fence has protected the garden and has given me no ill side effects except occasional short-term memory loss.
What was I talking about? Oh, yeah – electric fences.
To this day, grabbing that electric fence has protected the garden and has given me no ill side effects except occasional short-term memory loss.
What was I talking about? Oh, yeah, electric fences.
Problem 2: The school logo.
Solution: We need to unite the school under one universal emblem. Right now the academic side has the memorial tower and the athletic side has something that resembles Toonces the Driving Cat.
I have found something that instantly brings a look of recognition to anyone’s face that hears it mentioned. If you don’t know which Boyd Hall is which, or that Himes is located somewhere between Coates and the fourth circle of hell, you will still know where this symbol of all that is good with LSU resides.
The Boob Statue.
I don’t know if it has a real name, but The Boob Statue is a symbol the entire LSU community can unite around. It’s time we eliminated the phallic abomination of a memorial tower as our emblem and move into the future. This isn’t just a man’s world anymore.
The Boob Statue will give the impression that LSU is a university for everyone, not just those burdened with a Y chromosome. Not only is it a female form, it is a perfect female form – it has eight breasts and can’t talk.
I first saw The Boob Statue six years ago as a Boys State delegate when it was more prominently displayed at the main entrance of the union. I knew right away that this was the school for me.
Sure, by using The Boob Statue as our official school emblem, we are running the risk of a population boom not seen since the onset of TOPS. But, hey, if too many people are flocking to the statue, we can always protect it with some black posts.
Or, better yet, an electric fence.