LSU’s campus has a myriad of flaws and interesting (read horrible) design choices. But LSU isn’t made of money, and in its defense, it’s an historic place full of rich history and memories.
In fact, LSU’s halls are bordering on ancient relics, remnants from a time far gone. Most, in my experience, just feel old, perhaps a little dusty, but one other is far more sinister: Lockett Hall.
Built in 1968, Lockett Hall stood as a brand new mathematics hall and administrative building. Perhaps at the time, it was a pretty building.
Nowadays, however, this hall is in dire need of a redo. Almost everyone can agree that Lockett Hall is miserable.
It’s a hot, stuffy, labyrinthian, filled a-million-and-one-stairs, potentially infested math hall. The struggles of Lockett are endless.
The basement floor is not level and continues to go downhill, seemingly perfect for auditorium-style rooms. However, for some reason, the floors are uniquely suited to poisoning my poor peers and professors with profound vertigo.
The upper levels manage to be cramped and tiny yet imposing and ever-going. They defy reality and boggle the sane mind.
Several times, classmates and I have gotten lost on our mission of attending class on time in Lockett.
The argument could be made that I am dumb, which—yeah, maybe; however, when almost every student I ask confirms and relates my experience, surely that theme holds some ground.
Moving on past the insidious and hideous architecture, I have come to the realisation that Lockett may have been built over a portal to Hell. Spooky.
I’ve known this deep in my soul ever since I laid eyes on Lockett. I can hear the whispers of the damned in my ears saying, “Don’t take Geography.”
Even for those not as spiritually inclined as I, the common signs of infernal possession are clearly etched into the walls of Lockett.
Just recently, I saw a deadly swarm (one bug) sent by the great fiend himself to bring ruination to my lecture on Paradise Lost by John Milton. Very fitting as, at the time, we were analyzing the introduction speech made by Satan himself.
Another startling and morbid image is the seemingly endless throngs of dazed and confused students leaving classrooms of misery and suffering at all hours of the day. The faint cries of agony and sobbing can be heard everywhere from the deserted hall.
Lockett is one of the few locations on campus and in the world that bridges the gap between Hell and Earth. I don’t know if we need to call in the Pope or a bulldozer, but something must be done.
Only after sealing off this fiendish portal can we begin to turn our eyes to the building Satan has made his castle on Earth: Himes Testing Center.
Garrett McEntee is a 19-year-old English sophomore from Benton, La.