Social Experiments

Currently Listening To: Reruns of LOST on SciFi
Twice today, during conversations with various people, "it" was decided that some aspect of life here at college was just some remotely orchestrated social experiment. The first is my Asian Civilizations class. It meets Mondays and Thursdays around lunch time in the basement of the building with "biology" plastered on one of the columns. In addition to witnessing the major cultures of Southeast Asia, as I student in that class I will witness the complete breakdown and ultimate destruction of the human spirit. Let me explain; our professor is a grad student. She was informed she would be replacing the original professor less than a month before class. The textbook she's teaching from is not available in the bookstore, and it doesn't look likely that it ever will be. She's dependent on student discussion, being that she's ESL and often struggles with words, yet everyone has difficulty getting the readings from the web so we've got nothing to say; Asian Civilizations? More like Awkward Cilences. Anyways, watcher her just stand there is absolutely depressing, and she looks depressed when it happens. Like I said, by the end of the semester, she will be a shell of a person.

The second is one of the many places on campus to get food. "Getting food" goes as follows: you wait in line for your meal. You order your meal. You pay for your meal. You recieve your meal. Then you wait in another line, except that it's not a line, it's an amorphous blob of students clamoring for French Fries. Then you wait some more. When they finally produce the fries, it's like the zombie hoardes, a mad dash for that precious two, three bags of fries. Could this fuster cluck be avoided? Why of course, anyone with an ounce of logic could tell you so; simply give the students their fries with their meals. So the only logical explanation is that it is an experiment devised by the Psychology department to see what lengths to which college students will go to get fries. THE ONLY EXPLANATION.

I just saw a very, very disturbing commercial. Two girls walk up to their father. They've got that "Come play with us, Danny" quality about them. One says, "It's time, dad." Oh God, a period commercial. Wait! Even better; the girl produces from behind her back a box of Rogaine; "You'd make a great catch for some lady."

I'm not even going to dissect this any further, I'll just say that it is disturbing.