Tuesday, February 15, 2005

Spear the Turtle

By now, you've got me figured out. Not a Maryland fan, am I. Am I being totally unreasonable? To a certain extent yes. And then, the University of Maryland Terrapins play Duke, leading to College Park apeshittery, and suddenly I don't look so stupid calling for Michelle Malkinesque death camps in College Park (and then suggesting that she be sent there herself--mind you, I've never had to pick her up by the seat of her pants and forcibly expel her from Saki in Adams Morgan, but that's just a happy coincidence. I would do so in a heartbeat. And regretcakes? I would swallow them not).

You know, as a UVA student, I know full well how it feels to beat the living shit out of the Duke Blue Devils. 1990, son. I shouted down Chris Laettner in person. Even Coach Gillen, who's not long for this world, has provided some memorable Blue Devil beatdowns--Adam Hall, beyotch, now get yer ass back to Durham. Sure it's been none in the past, what, ninety attempts. You see, I know what it feels like to lose to those cats, too. And I mean, the forty point whippings AND those merry occasions when Wojoshoeshevpoopski drives the length of the floor as the dude who is paid by the NC2A "forgets" to start the clock, allowing Wojofuckmyrawasski and his beloved Coach Frying Pan Face to claim one of those "mystique" victories.

So the pleasure, the pain--I know it well. Here's what I don't know. I don't know what makes a man set his campus on fire. Mind you, we were a refined lot who called our campus "The Grounds," but I don't think it was our high-toned Southern snobbery that made our neighborhood NOT become engulfed in flames, nor do I think it was the fact that our SAT scores, even being...what--QUADRUPLE what Maryland's students are?--were the deciding factor in our habitual ability to not find ourselves choking on pepper spray or bent up in a truss by the local constabulary.

The night of the game, even from my curbside perch in Columbia Heights, I could feel that little worm that resides in the poisoned omelet that exists inside the cranium of these certain Maryland student begin to turn, inexorably, to the thoughts of another pyrotechnic debacle. Oh that I could find within myself a reservoir of pity deep and wide and briny enough to drown all of you, you Maryland students! Because I surely would. I surely would. It's bad enough that the orgiastic riots of pure and unadulterated moronism stem from what seems to be a utterly Pavlovian response to the presence of Blue Devilla on their basketball schedule. It doesn't seem to matter whether the Terps win or lose--the thought of Duke makes the student body groan as one: "Fire pretty! Me want burn! BURN!" No, what makes it worse is that these regular riots are now seen by all to be simply something that Maryland students do. It's like, part of the student experience. A Hasty Pudding Club of mouthbreathing, adolescent doltery mixed with a lack of respect for public property. The University of Maryland's P.R. Department must have been out there with their digital cameras, scouting for good shot to insert into those University of Maryland brochures that they send to prospective students.

That begs a question, by the way. Those brochures...what language do they use to reach a typical Maryland prospect? Scratch and sniff? Fucking rebuses? Does someone lay down a piss trail to follow? Just wondering.

But, I'll be honest with you, the time is long past to get mad at the students. Clearly, these numblefucks are a lost cause. It's time to look deep into the eyes of the President of the University of Maryland, their Board of Visitors, their Deans and Provosts, their administrative staff, and simply ask: "What the fuck is you all's problem, anyway?" These students need to be expelled! They need to be expelled yesterday! Hell, I think they need to be forcibly marched to the Delaware bridge like Mayor Barry once tried to do with the whores and told that they can never return!

And don't give me this whole "We'll wait and see what the courts say..." reasoning that you're laying down in the press today. Don't make expulsion predicated on "if" these lesser minds are convicted in a court of law. That's the buy-out polticians take. That's the way it works at fucking Enron--"Well, it sure looks bad! But we'll wait and see what a judge says and see if that jumpstarts my fuckin' moral compass, and then maybe we'll take action." Take down some names yourselves and start the purge! Kick 'em out!

And going forward, oh, higher minds behind Terp U., you've got to consider what to do to keep this from happening. You are going to have to develop a student body that collectively realizes that burning their fucking school down is not perhaps conducive to amassing the knowledge and skills they need for future success. I say: you better raise your damn admission standards. Now, don't get me wrong. I've been to Bethesda. I've walked the streets of Rockville. I've read where Joe Queenan described Baltimore as "a slum with a nice aquarium" and sang allelujahs. I know what you are up against. Who in their right mind wants to stay? Well, raising admission standards might actually be the start of something beautiful. Even if say, the class of 2010 is only, like nine people. You have to start somewhere, and you have to eliminate this dimwitted organic waste that's masquerading as members of a student body.

Now I know that some of you folks who are students and alumni of Maryland are saying, "Oh, this is just sour grapes snobbery from a UVA alum." Or you're saying: "But even a minimal heightening of standards will preclude any of the current members of the Maryland Terrapins Men's Basketball team from continuing to play!" Or maybe you're saying: "I'm the dude who writes The Upstate Life and I thought we were tight, yo!" My answers to you are, respectively: "Yeah, well, maybe", "Heh-heh, I know!", and "Hell yes, brah! I love you, man! I stand ready to avenge your untimely demise, Kill Bill, style!" But if you guys really cared about your school's rep, you'd be beating these rioters about the chest and face!

Or at least, if you've just got to set shit on fire, Maryland students, you could show some real work ethic and finish the fucking job. Either way, it doesn't mean SHIT to me.

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