EUGENE: Ah, gentlemen, thank you for waiting for me while I was pooping.
MICHAEL: Eugene, seriously, it's about time.
EUGENE: Oh? But I do not understand?
MILTON: I distinctly remember you saying that you would be gone for only a minute or two.
EUGENE: Indeed, it is so. I appear to have overshot my conservative estimate by a few minutes, it seems.
MICHAEL: We've been waiting outside for a good three weeks, Eugene.
MILTON: Suffice it to say that we have been playing a whole lot of "I Spy." I still haven't figured out what Michael saw when he said "I spy something that starts with a 'T'"; I've been scratching my rather bald head for the past nine days. Sadly, I now have some pretty serious fingernail gashes on my scalp.
MICHAEL: It was "truth," you idiot. What else would I find in the world?
EUGENE: My friends, I apologize once again for my lengthy sojourn in the bathroom. I got a little carried away mid-poop when I began to ponder the sun.
MILTON: The sun, Eugene? Pray tell: what about the sun could be so interesting as to occupy you for three weeks?
EUGENE: Ah, well, if you will allow me to refer momentarily to my notepad, you will see my latest finding.
MICHAEL: And what exactly have you found?
EUGENE: Dear Michael, while I was approaching the end of what was in fact a most satisfying poop, I looked down upon the freshly-soiled stool and began to ponder its similarities with the solar system's magnetic field. After some brief pondering, I conjectured that which I will now call the Parker Spiral.
MILTON: Ah, well, this is indeed fascinating and we would assuredly love to hear about it some more, but I fear that we have some more bathrooms to examine. It has been far too long since our most recent sojourn, thanks to the bathroom scientific contemplations of our dear friend Eugene.
MICHAEL: Indeed, it is so. Let us go to Harper - the imposing bulwark of the quad, and thus of philosophic inquiry itself - and examine its bathroomy offerings.
Harper First Floor - East
EUGENE: There appears to be a great deal of trash on this floor, my friends. I am reminded of the KJR-382P solar belt. Both of them are full of space garbage.
MILTON: But Eugene, I do not understand. This stuff does not look like space garbage at all; actually, it just reminds me of the floor at the end of a party at Lambda.
MICHAEL: You have been to a party at Lambda, Milton?
MILTON: Indeed, it it so. Youthful exuberances and whatnot, Michael. But nonetheless, we must return to the matter at hand - namely, the fact that this bathroom is rather awful.
EUGENE: Indeed, it is so. I was about to judge this bathroom in a slightly more positive manner due to its windows that face the quad, but I then realized that the windows are unable to be opened.
MICHAEL: Indeed, it is so. Just as the mind of the philosopher-king must be open in order to allow for the maximum accumulation of wisdom, so must the windows in a bathroom be open in order to allow for the maximum dissemination of poop particles.
MILTON: Indeed, it is so. I heard that one can acquire pink-eye if a bathroom lacks proper ventilation.
The philosophers' rating: Third Form of the Good
Harper First Floor - West
EUGENE: Ah, much as the poet Shelley once wrote that there is nothing better than finding a bathroom when you least expect it, so is there nothing better than finding a bathroom when you least expect it.
MILTON: Indeed, it is so. This one is of slightly superior quality compared to the previous bathroom.
MICHAEL: Ah, indeed. The tenants of this bathroom seem to have taken a slightly more positive outlook towards cleanliness.
EUGENE: Furthermore, the windows here actually open, and there is a nice blue tint to the tiles. Unfortunately, due to the shallowness of the stall and the general sense of crampedness, the toilet is situated in a sideways manner.
MILTON: Indeed, it is so. I no longer have the horrible feeling that passers-by are staring at my crotch while I sit upon the toilet, thanks to the fact that they will now only be able to see the side of my leg.
MICHAEL: Furthermore, this bathroom is awfully warm. My brown fuzzy coat will undoubtedly have to come off if I am to urinate in comfort.
The philosophers' rating: Fourth Form of the Good
Harper Second Floor
EUGENE: My friends, we appear to have hit upon a veritable gem.
MILTON: Indeed, it is so. This bathroom is roughly the size of my head, which makes it quite large indeed.
MICHAEL: In addition to the two hand-flush urinals here, there is also a solitary yet expansive stall with blue walls.
EUGENE: Furthermore, there also appears to be an anatomically impossible pencil drawing of what appears to be a young couple engaged in coital acts.
MILTON: But Eugene, I do not understand.
EUGENE: Acts of the flesh, dear Milton.
MILTON: I still do not understand what you mean.
EUGENE: Ah, well, this will assuredly make it all clear: just as the flute player goes to band camp and plays the flute, so do the two individuals on the stall door appear to be measuring cyclical friction via experimentation.
MILTON: Eh?
EUGENE: They're banging, Milton. Sex. The two people are having it. My goodness, you are slow sometimes.
MICHAEL: Let us not get carried away with our discussion of carnal matters, my friends. We must also take note of the fact that the windows open onto the quad, thus allowing for a spectacular view.
MILTON: Indeed, it is so. There is not much in this world that I enjoy more than hearing the birds chirp and seeing the sunlight stream into the bathroom while I poop.
The philosophers' rating: Seventh Form of the Good
Miles
Simha
Monday, August 27, 2007
Thursday, August 2, 2007
Stuart
MICHAEL: At one point, dear Stuart hall was inhabited by those whose metallocity is less than mediocre.
EUGENE: Indeed, it is so. At one point, Stuart was the home of the GSB, where the average metallocity of the students is not even a metal: it is actually just styrofoam.
MILTON: Ah, it is so. Even the most base of scholars typically has a metallocity of at least rusted steel or tin, but the GSB students are rarely higher than styrofoam.
MICHAEL: Thankfully, the university has reclaimed this space for the pursuit of true knowledge of the forms.
EUGENE: Indeed, it is so. Let us commence our study of these bathrooms at the middle, because it is the most vital section of the building.
MILTON: But Eugene, I do not understand. Why is the middle so important?
EUGENE: Milton, it is simple. Just as the soul has three parts, the building has two parts: the top and the bottom. Thus, we must start at the middle.
MILTON: Ah, but it is so clear now. Let us begin at the middle.
Stuart Second Floor
MICHAEL: I am particularly impressed by the wooden-backed coat hooks on the far wall.
EUGENE: Ah, it smells of rich mahogany. Unfortunately, the leather-bound books are nowhere to be seen.
MILTON: The retro-style "No Smoking" sign is also a nice touch. It reminds me of the rocking 60s, when I was a crazy flower child.
MICHAEL: Unfortunately, despite the coat hooks, "No Smoking" sign, and bizarre shape, this bathrooms is still relatively unimpressive. There's really not all that much special about it.
EUGENE: Indeed, it it so. There are some pretty average looking flushless urinals, some incandescent lights which do a good job of illuminating even the farthest reaches of the bathroom, and a nice shiny new paint job.
MILTON: Indeed, it is so. Just as the chicken must be covered with feathers lest it lose its chickenliness, this bathroom must be covered with fresh paint lest it lose.
MICHAEL: But Milton, I do not understand. What will it lose if it does not have fresh paint on its walls?
MILTON: At life, my dear Michael. It will lose at life.
The philosophers' rating: Sixth Form of the Good
Stuart Basement
EUGENE: My friends, this bathroom is expansive in size.
MILTON: Indeed, much as my head is cavernous, so is this bathroom.
MICHAEL: There is a three-foot-wide wall that divides the urinals on the right from the stalls on the left. Much as the flute player plays the flute, this dividing wall is in fact a dividing wall.
EUGENE: But Michael, I do not understand.
MICHAEL: My dear Eugene, it is simple. Just as this dividing wall is in fact a dividing wall, so must the flute player play the flute.
EUGENE: Ah, indeed, it must be so.
MILTON: Much like the second-floor bathroom, this bathroom has a nice collection of wooden-backed hooks. Michael, you will find this feature particularly useful, because you can hang your fuzzy brown coat from one of the hooks whilst you express your thoughts in the form of pee.
MICHAEL: Above the sinks, there is an especially wide mirror that allows me to stare at myself from a veritable wealth of angles. Furthermore, it allows me to keep an eye on the door so that I can stop peeing into the sink whenever someone walks in.
EUGENE: But Michael, I do not understand. How do you cover up your sink-peeing habit when an unwitting stranger walks into the bathroom?
MICHAEL: Ah, Eugene, it is simple. I simply hurl myself atop the counter so that my crotch is in fact inside the sink. Furthermore, I pretend like I am searching for any stray shards of Truth that may have dispersed to the outer reaches of the drain. I have fooled many an outsider in this manner.
MILTON: Although the sinks are indeed inviting, my dear Michael, the bathroom also has numerous other notable features. For instance, there is a nice retro "No Smoking" sign on the right wall, just as there is on the second floor.
MICHAEL: Indeed, it so. Furthermore, each stall has a nice shelf for storing extra treasures.
EUGENE: Oftentimes I place my lab notebook on the shelf unit while I poop.
The philosophers' rating: Eighth Form of the Good
Miles
Simha
EUGENE: Indeed, it is so. At one point, Stuart was the home of the GSB, where the average metallocity of the students is not even a metal: it is actually just styrofoam.
MILTON: Ah, it is so. Even the most base of scholars typically has a metallocity of at least rusted steel or tin, but the GSB students are rarely higher than styrofoam.
MICHAEL: Thankfully, the university has reclaimed this space for the pursuit of true knowledge of the forms.
EUGENE: Indeed, it is so. Let us commence our study of these bathrooms at the middle, because it is the most vital section of the building.
MILTON: But Eugene, I do not understand. Why is the middle so important?
EUGENE: Milton, it is simple. Just as the soul has three parts, the building has two parts: the top and the bottom. Thus, we must start at the middle.
MILTON: Ah, but it is so clear now. Let us begin at the middle.
Stuart Second Floor
MICHAEL: I am particularly impressed by the wooden-backed coat hooks on the far wall.
EUGENE: Ah, it smells of rich mahogany. Unfortunately, the leather-bound books are nowhere to be seen.
MILTON: The retro-style "No Smoking" sign is also a nice touch. It reminds me of the rocking 60s, when I was a crazy flower child.
MICHAEL: Unfortunately, despite the coat hooks, "No Smoking" sign, and bizarre shape, this bathrooms is still relatively unimpressive. There's really not all that much special about it.
EUGENE: Indeed, it it so. There are some pretty average looking flushless urinals, some incandescent lights which do a good job of illuminating even the farthest reaches of the bathroom, and a nice shiny new paint job.
MILTON: Indeed, it is so. Just as the chicken must be covered with feathers lest it lose its chickenliness, this bathroom must be covered with fresh paint lest it lose.
MICHAEL: But Milton, I do not understand. What will it lose if it does not have fresh paint on its walls?
MILTON: At life, my dear Michael. It will lose at life.
The philosophers' rating: Sixth Form of the Good
Stuart Basement
EUGENE: My friends, this bathroom is expansive in size.
MILTON: Indeed, much as my head is cavernous, so is this bathroom.
MICHAEL: There is a three-foot-wide wall that divides the urinals on the right from the stalls on the left. Much as the flute player plays the flute, this dividing wall is in fact a dividing wall.
EUGENE: But Michael, I do not understand.
MICHAEL: My dear Eugene, it is simple. Just as this dividing wall is in fact a dividing wall, so must the flute player play the flute.
EUGENE: Ah, indeed, it must be so.
MILTON: Much like the second-floor bathroom, this bathroom has a nice collection of wooden-backed hooks. Michael, you will find this feature particularly useful, because you can hang your fuzzy brown coat from one of the hooks whilst you express your thoughts in the form of pee.
MICHAEL: Above the sinks, there is an especially wide mirror that allows me to stare at myself from a veritable wealth of angles. Furthermore, it allows me to keep an eye on the door so that I can stop peeing into the sink whenever someone walks in.
EUGENE: But Michael, I do not understand. How do you cover up your sink-peeing habit when an unwitting stranger walks into the bathroom?
MICHAEL: Ah, Eugene, it is simple. I simply hurl myself atop the counter so that my crotch is in fact inside the sink. Furthermore, I pretend like I am searching for any stray shards of Truth that may have dispersed to the outer reaches of the drain. I have fooled many an outsider in this manner.
MILTON: Although the sinks are indeed inviting, my dear Michael, the bathroom also has numerous other notable features. For instance, there is a nice retro "No Smoking" sign on the right wall, just as there is on the second floor.
MICHAEL: Indeed, it so. Furthermore, each stall has a nice shelf for storing extra treasures.
EUGENE: Oftentimes I place my lab notebook on the shelf unit while I poop.
The philosophers' rating: Eighth Form of the Good
Miles
Simha
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Reynolds Club
MICHAEL: My friends, when a poet is in deep pursuit of knowledge, justice, and virtue, he is oftentimes temporarily derailed by a most vile entity: entertainment.
MILTON: Indeed, it is so. I hate fun.
EUGENE: Ah, yes, it is true. Once when I was a young scholar, I attempted to play hopscotch with a polar bear. Sadly, it attempted to eat me. It was, in fact, the worst experience of my life. However, I was able to channel my wounds and scars into a good cause: never again have I interrupted my philosophic thinkings and ponderings by having fun.
MILTON: Ah, yes. Sadly, some young scholars at this university lack our level of intellect.
MICHAEL: Indeed, it is so.
MILTON: Thus, they oftentimes attempt to entertain themselves. An entire pristine building has been erected for this very purpose; a building which contains rooms for tomfoolery and time-wasting activities like watching plays or listening to concerts.
EUGENE: Indeed, it is enough to make a true philosopher weep. Why are these students not learning all the time?
MICHAEL: Ah, it is but one of life's unanswered questions, my dear Eugene.
MILTON: As such, we must embark on a bathroom visitation trip to the Reynolds Club. Let us begin in the basement.
Reynolds Club Basement
EUGENE: Gentlemen, let us pause for a moment to remember all of those dear students who unwittingly decided to go to the Reynolds Club barbershop, which sits before our very eyes.
MILTON: Indeed, just as the flute player plays the flute, so are the haircuts received from the Reynolds Club barbershop the worst haircuts that I have ever seen.
MICHAEL: Sadly, it is so. However, the lucky citizens who are able to venture past the all-seeing eye of the Reynolds Club barbershop are treated to a surprisingly not-awful bathroom.
EUGENE: I have discovered two stalls and three urinals; they all appear to be in relatively good condition.
MICHAEL: Furthermore, it appears that the university has taken it upon itself to repaint the walls inside each stall. I really like smelling paint.
MILTON: My friends, I have found a most wonderful discovery: poetry! Some enlightened student - a fellow reader of Plato, no doubt - has written a splendid missive in verse on the right-hand-side wall in one of the stalls.
EUGENE: Indeed, this poem is highly inspiring. We must copy this down for future ponderance:
In Summertime the walls are clean
Protected from the words obscene
The school believes that it is safe
From shithouse proofs and poems erased
But there are those with memories long
Who while they sit with exposed schlong
And ass, do carry on the torch
Of shithouse poets come before
No wall is safe! no stall pristine!
Their battle cry, their meager dream
And where ever they find a place
Where those who creation do hate
Have taken it themselves upon
To whiten walls with egos strong
We enter in with righteous force
We come, we see, we write, of course
MICHAEL: Ah, yes, poetry of the shithouse variety. It is my favorite kind.
MILTON: I feel that the message of the poem is indeed an uplifting one, and it is a sign of humanity's infinite struggle for justice.
EUGENE: But Milton, I do not understand. What does this have to do with justice?
MILTON: Imagine a line, Eugene. On one end lies point A, and on the other lies point B. The line is divided by point C, which is anti-perpendicular to point D, which lies at the geometric nexus of the A-C-B axis. Point E, on the other hand, is equidistant from points A, B, and D, but it is twice as far from point C. Point G lies to the right of point C, but to the left of point E. Much as these points are the meaning of the line, this poem is the meaning of justice.
EUGENE: But what about point F? Where does that come in?
MILTON: Point F does not exist. It is merely a figment of your philosophic inquiry.
MICHAEL: You know, Milton, I just spent the last 30 seconds drawing your line on the floor. I almost ran out of pee by the end, but thankfully, you stopped at point G. And honestly, I don't think that your diagram makes any geometric sense. Also: what on earth is a geometric nexus?
MILTON: Indeed.
The philosophers' rating: Seventh Form of the Good
Reynolds Club Second Floor
MILTON: The second floor of the Reynolds Club is an important place indeed: Uncle Joe's - or, if you are lame - Hallowed Grounds is located on this floor, and apparently it is a popular spot for scholars wishing to study in an environment that is loud with bad indie music and smelly with bad pool players.
EUGENE: I have also heard that many a student has escaped to the second floor bathrooms in an attempt to save himself from watching a particularly awful play either on the first or third floor.
MICHAEL: Just as the soul is tripartite in form, this bathroom is tripartite in the good.
MILTON: Indeed, it is so. The three clear positive details are the fact that there is a urinal within a stall on the left and a window overlooking Hutch courtyard on the right.
EUGENE: Just as it is unwise for a philosopher-king to allow his subjects to see the inner workings of society, it is unwise to let people see your bottom while you pee. Thus, this ingenious urinal-within-a-stall invention is equivalent to maintaining the stability of society.
MICHAEL: Indeed, it is a thing to be praised. Doors should not be available only for those who poop.
The philosophers' rating: Sixth Form of the Good
Miles
Simha
MILTON: Indeed, it is so. I hate fun.
EUGENE: Ah, yes, it is true. Once when I was a young scholar, I attempted to play hopscotch with a polar bear. Sadly, it attempted to eat me. It was, in fact, the worst experience of my life. However, I was able to channel my wounds and scars into a good cause: never again have I interrupted my philosophic thinkings and ponderings by having fun.
MILTON: Ah, yes. Sadly, some young scholars at this university lack our level of intellect.
MICHAEL: Indeed, it is so.
MILTON: Thus, they oftentimes attempt to entertain themselves. An entire pristine building has been erected for this very purpose; a building which contains rooms for tomfoolery and time-wasting activities like watching plays or listening to concerts.
EUGENE: Indeed, it is enough to make a true philosopher weep. Why are these students not learning all the time?
MICHAEL: Ah, it is but one of life's unanswered questions, my dear Eugene.
MILTON: As such, we must embark on a bathroom visitation trip to the Reynolds Club. Let us begin in the basement.
Reynolds Club Basement
EUGENE: Gentlemen, let us pause for a moment to remember all of those dear students who unwittingly decided to go to the Reynolds Club barbershop, which sits before our very eyes.
MILTON: Indeed, just as the flute player plays the flute, so are the haircuts received from the Reynolds Club barbershop the worst haircuts that I have ever seen.
MICHAEL: Sadly, it is so. However, the lucky citizens who are able to venture past the all-seeing eye of the Reynolds Club barbershop are treated to a surprisingly not-awful bathroom.
EUGENE: I have discovered two stalls and three urinals; they all appear to be in relatively good condition.
MICHAEL: Furthermore, it appears that the university has taken it upon itself to repaint the walls inside each stall. I really like smelling paint.
MILTON: My friends, I have found a most wonderful discovery: poetry! Some enlightened student - a fellow reader of Plato, no doubt - has written a splendid missive in verse on the right-hand-side wall in one of the stalls.
EUGENE: Indeed, this poem is highly inspiring. We must copy this down for future ponderance:
In Summertime the walls are clean
Protected from the words obscene
The school believes that it is safe
From shithouse proofs and poems erased
But there are those with memories long
Who while they sit with exposed schlong
And ass, do carry on the torch
Of shithouse poets come before
No wall is safe! no stall pristine!
Their battle cry, their meager dream
And where ever they find a place
Where those who creation do hate
Have taken it themselves upon
To whiten walls with egos strong
We enter in with righteous force
We come, we see, we write, of course
MICHAEL: Ah, yes, poetry of the shithouse variety. It is my favorite kind.
MILTON: I feel that the message of the poem is indeed an uplifting one, and it is a sign of humanity's infinite struggle for justice.
EUGENE: But Milton, I do not understand. What does this have to do with justice?
MILTON: Imagine a line, Eugene. On one end lies point A, and on the other lies point B. The line is divided by point C, which is anti-perpendicular to point D, which lies at the geometric nexus of the A-C-B axis. Point E, on the other hand, is equidistant from points A, B, and D, but it is twice as far from point C. Point G lies to the right of point C, but to the left of point E. Much as these points are the meaning of the line, this poem is the meaning of justice.
EUGENE: But what about point F? Where does that come in?
MILTON: Point F does not exist. It is merely a figment of your philosophic inquiry.
MICHAEL: You know, Milton, I just spent the last 30 seconds drawing your line on the floor. I almost ran out of pee by the end, but thankfully, you stopped at point G. And honestly, I don't think that your diagram makes any geometric sense. Also: what on earth is a geometric nexus?
MILTON: Indeed.
The philosophers' rating: Seventh Form of the Good
Reynolds Club Second Floor
MILTON: The second floor of the Reynolds Club is an important place indeed: Uncle Joe's - or, if you are lame - Hallowed Grounds is located on this floor, and apparently it is a popular spot for scholars wishing to study in an environment that is loud with bad indie music and smelly with bad pool players.
EUGENE: I have also heard that many a student has escaped to the second floor bathrooms in an attempt to save himself from watching a particularly awful play either on the first or third floor.
MICHAEL: Just as the soul is tripartite in form, this bathroom is tripartite in the good.
MILTON: Indeed, it is so. The three clear positive details are the fact that there is a urinal within a stall on the left and a window overlooking Hutch courtyard on the right.
EUGENE: Just as it is unwise for a philosopher-king to allow his subjects to see the inner workings of society, it is unwise to let people see your bottom while you pee. Thus, this ingenious urinal-within-a-stall invention is equivalent to maintaining the stability of society.
MICHAEL: Indeed, it is a thing to be praised. Doors should not be available only for those who poop.
The philosophers' rating: Sixth Form of the Good
Miles
Simha
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Classics
MICHAEL: My friends, as all of you surely know, the best part of our job is when students come to office hours and ask us questions. This is the best part of our job for twin reasons: (1) their thirst for knowledge and philosophical excellence warms our heart and gives us hope for the future, and (2) we get to laugh at them for asking really stupid questions. However, when we are in our office, we are oftentimes afflicted with two divergent urges: the urge to laugh at our wayward students and the urge to poop.
MILTON: Indeed, it so. For this reason, the bathrooms in buildings like Classics are of the utmost importance; although Classics does not have too many classrooms, it contains a great number of faculty offices, and thus, the bathrooms are used heavily students and faculty alike.
MICHAEL: Furthermore, just as a society with one true philosopher king is superior to a society ruled by a democracy of fools, the fact that Classics contains only two men's restrooms is not an inherent flaw. We must examine the restrooms to see how to compare to the others.
EUGENE: My friends, I feel like we have arrived to the heart of the question. Let us commence our examination of the bathrooms in Classics.
Classics Second Floor
MILTON: It is a good thing that there is a bathroom here on the second floor, right next to Classics Cafe.
EUGENE: But Milton, I do not understand: why is it important that there be a bathroom here?
MILTON: This bathroom has likely saved many a scholar from certain embarrassment. I have heard stories involving the patrons of campus eateries urgently needing a restroom after either drinking an especially bad cup of coffee or eating a slightly too-old sandwich; as such, it is clearly the epitome of true philosophic justice for there to be a bathroom right next to Classics Cafe.
EUGENE: Ah, you have made it clear now.
MICHAEL: By Zeus! Much like the temple to the great cloudgatherer Zeus at Olympia, this bathroom appears to have a great surplus of marble on its walls.
EUGENE: Indeed, it is so. I am much impressed. Just as humans have an inherent metallocity that determines their standing in life, walls too have their destinies drawn out for them at a young age. Walls of marble are always destined for great success in all fields: philosophic, asesthetic, and gymnastic.
MILTON: I am also highly enthusiastic about the artistic side-entry door for the handicapped stall. It spares the user from the embarrassing feeling that passers-by are staring in through the door cracks right at one's crotch.
MICHAEL: There is also a splendid window on the far end that overlooks part of the campus.
MILTON: Indeed, the window is quite useful. Men's restrooms typically need all the air circulation that they can get, and it also allows users to follow up their mammoth poops by gazing off into the heavens while pondering truth and justice.
EUGENE: Personally, I am partial to the large cubby on the left wall. I feel like it would be a good place to hide medium and large sized treasures.
MICHAEL: Indeed, it is a good place to hide my brown fuzzy coat.
MILTON: My friends, I feel that we have spent enough time here on the second floor; let us now go upstairs to the fourth floor.
The philosophers' rating: Eighth Form of the Good
Classics Fourth Floor
EUGENE: Indeed, this bathroom is a lot like the second-floor bathroom, except for the fact that it is worse.
MILTON: Indeed, it is so. the bathroom is fitted with the same gorgeous marble wall surface, but sadly, it has its share of flaws.
MICHAEL: But Milton, I do not understand: what flaws does this bathroom have?
MILTON: It is quite simple. Just as the flute player plays the flute, so does the water come from this tap in separate faucets for hot and cold. Such a travesty makes it difficult for users to regulate the proper level of warmth, and as such, they are rendered unable to find truth.
MICHAEL: Ah, you have made it so clear.
EUGENE: Furthermore, I notice that there are horizontal metal bars on the window. Apparently the University does not want its bathroom users to climb onto the roof in a moment of ecstasy after a highly successfully poop.
The philosophers' rating: Sixth Form of the Good
Simha
MILTON: Indeed, it so. For this reason, the bathrooms in buildings like Classics are of the utmost importance; although Classics does not have too many classrooms, it contains a great number of faculty offices, and thus, the bathrooms are used heavily students and faculty alike.
MICHAEL: Furthermore, just as a society with one true philosopher king is superior to a society ruled by a democracy of fools, the fact that Classics contains only two men's restrooms is not an inherent flaw. We must examine the restrooms to see how to compare to the others.
EUGENE: My friends, I feel like we have arrived to the heart of the question. Let us commence our examination of the bathrooms in Classics.
Classics Second Floor
MILTON: It is a good thing that there is a bathroom here on the second floor, right next to Classics Cafe.
EUGENE: But Milton, I do not understand: why is it important that there be a bathroom here?
MILTON: This bathroom has likely saved many a scholar from certain embarrassment. I have heard stories involving the patrons of campus eateries urgently needing a restroom after either drinking an especially bad cup of coffee or eating a slightly too-old sandwich; as such, it is clearly the epitome of true philosophic justice for there to be a bathroom right next to Classics Cafe.
EUGENE: Ah, you have made it clear now.
MICHAEL: By Zeus! Much like the temple to the great cloudgatherer Zeus at Olympia, this bathroom appears to have a great surplus of marble on its walls.
EUGENE: Indeed, it is so. I am much impressed. Just as humans have an inherent metallocity that determines their standing in life, walls too have their destinies drawn out for them at a young age. Walls of marble are always destined for great success in all fields: philosophic, asesthetic, and gymnastic.
MILTON: I am also highly enthusiastic about the artistic side-entry door for the handicapped stall. It spares the user from the embarrassing feeling that passers-by are staring in through the door cracks right at one's crotch.
MICHAEL: There is also a splendid window on the far end that overlooks part of the campus.
MILTON: Indeed, the window is quite useful. Men's restrooms typically need all the air circulation that they can get, and it also allows users to follow up their mammoth poops by gazing off into the heavens while pondering truth and justice.
EUGENE: Personally, I am partial to the large cubby on the left wall. I feel like it would be a good place to hide medium and large sized treasures.
MICHAEL: Indeed, it is a good place to hide my brown fuzzy coat.
MILTON: My friends, I feel that we have spent enough time here on the second floor; let us now go upstairs to the fourth floor.
The philosophers' rating: Eighth Form of the Good
Classics Fourth Floor
EUGENE: Indeed, this bathroom is a lot like the second-floor bathroom, except for the fact that it is worse.
MILTON: Indeed, it is so. the bathroom is fitted with the same gorgeous marble wall surface, but sadly, it has its share of flaws.
MICHAEL: But Milton, I do not understand: what flaws does this bathroom have?
MILTON: It is quite simple. Just as the flute player plays the flute, so does the water come from this tap in separate faucets for hot and cold. Such a travesty makes it difficult for users to regulate the proper level of warmth, and as such, they are rendered unable to find truth.
MICHAEL: Ah, you have made it so clear.
EUGENE: Furthermore, I notice that there are horizontal metal bars on the window. Apparently the University does not want its bathroom users to climb onto the roof in a moment of ecstasy after a highly successfully poop.
The philosophers' rating: Sixth Form of the Good
Simha
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Cobb
EUGENE: Although it is true that the average U of C student spends seven-tenths of his life at the Reg, a good two-tenths are also spent in class.
MILTON: Indeed, it is so.
EUGENE: As such, we must undertake an examination of the bathrooms in the Academic buildings as well. Oftentimes these bathrooms are used by weary students as a respite and as an excuse to leave their really boring classes for a few minutes.
MICHAEL: Also, I hear that kids oftentimes have to poop. The bathrooms are good for that, too.
MILTON: Indeed, it is so.
EUGENE: Well then, my friends, it is only natural that we begin at venerable Cobb Hall, the building where HUM, SOSC, and language classes abound. Indeed, much as justice pervades throughout our serene Republic, core classes pervade throughout this fine building. Thus, we must examine its bathrooms.
MILTON: But Eugene, an important question remains: where must we start in the building?
EUGENE: Let us commence our search on the fifth floor of this pristine building. When studying an object, one must begin at the top in order to gain a full understanding of the full thing, that is to say, of the thing itself.
MILTON: But Eugene, I do not understand. Why must we begin on the fifth floor?
EUGENE: The fifth floor, my dear Milton, being the top of the thing, must therefore be also the most essential to the thing itself. Just as the hawk is rendered unable to hunt if its head is severed from the body, Cobb would be unable to function were it not for its glorious fifth floor.
MICHAEL: But Eugene, what about the roof?
EUGENE: The roof is left to the elements, dumbass. The three of us are academics, and in fact, one of us is actually dead. Clearly, none of us have been outdoors anytime recently. Thus, the fifth floor is clearly superior in all matters: aesthetic, meteorologically, and bathroomy.
MILTON: Furthermore, just as the bust of Silas P. Cobb keeps close watch over the entirety of the building, we will be able to cast an examining eye over the entirety of the bathrooms if we begin at the top of the building. Thus, we must start at the fifth floor.
MICHAEL: Ah, it must be so. It is all clear now.
EUGENE: Now that we are all in accord as to the importance of the fifth floor, we can begin our examination.
Cobb Fifth Floor
MILTON: By Zeus! This bathroom is absolutely tiny.
EUGENE: Well, it is, after all, intended for single-person use. I do not think that the floor-plan designers expected to have three aged academics in this bathroom at the same time, Milton.
MICHAEL: Indeed, it is so. Furthermore, the bathroom is gender neutral.
MILTON: Unfortunately for my fat head, this place isn't size neutral.
EUGENE: Indeed, this is a grave problem.
MICHAEL: Sadly, this restroom seems to have fallen into disarray: the cover on the fluorescent lamps is nowhere to be seen, thus forcing a blinding light onto the eyes of whoever is unlucky enough to poop here.
MILTON: Indeed, just as the seeds of justice emanate from the philosopher king, so does the fluorescent light blind the patrons of this bathroom.
EUGENE: Furthermore, the cover on the toilet paper dispenser is cracked. Perhaps some young scholar made an ill-advised attempt to steal not only a few rolls of toilet paper, but also the dispenser itself.
MICHAEL: Indeed, it is so. Also, the ceiling appears to slowly be falling down thanks to rainwater seepage from the roof. If the ceiling were justice, then I would relish and praise the fact that it is coming down from the heavens and spreading its glory to the world. In this case, however, it just means that bits of plaster are falling on whoever is pooping. Not quite as inspiring, I'm afraid.
MILTON: Well, I feel that we have spent more than enough time here; it is time for us to visit some of the other bathrooms in the building.
The philosophers' rating: Fourth Form of the Good
Cobb Fourth Floor
MILTON: So... where's the men's room?
EUGENE: Sadly, it seems that someone has removed the labels from what used to be the men's room. It now appears to be some sort of closet containing all manners of exotic treasures.
MICHAEL: No! We must maintain our single-minded focus on the pursuit of justice with regards to bathrooms. Just as the flute player plays the flute, so must we continue our examination of bathrooms.
MILTON: Indeed, it is true. Although staring at a pile of two-by-fours, green foam, a Wet/Dry Vac, and some composition tiles allows me plenty of time to ponder the meaning of the world, we must leave this floor and examine some more bathrooms. Only through further examination can we fully comprehend the meaning of the good.
EUGENE: Indeed, it is so. Let us go to the third floor.
The philosophers' rating: N/A: The place doesn't even exist.
Cobb Third Floor
MILTON: I see that this bathroom, much like the Reg Stacks bathrooms, is equipped with dual flushless toilets.
MICHAEL: Indeed, it is so. I particularly enjoy it when the burst of water flushes the urinal's contents every few minutes; it reminds me of how the just philosopher king must brainwash his citizens every few minutes in order to maintain tranquility, order, and justice.
EUGENE: There is also a solitary stall to the right of the urinals, and it contains some meaningless gibberish graffiti.
MILTON: However, there is a poetic "Fuck You" written on the side. Oh, how it warms my barren heart to see my students engaged in true scholarly debate!
MICHAEL: By Zeus! For some infernal reason, the hot and cold water taps are separate. Just as the three parts of the soul must work in tandem for the individual to truly be just, the three types of water - hot and cold - must run together like the rivers Tigris and Euphrates and be united in order for the bathroom user to fully enjoy his hand-washing experience.
EUGENE: Although your analogies are clearly impenetrably true, I only counted two types of water there, Michael.
MICHAEL: Indeed, it is so.
MILTON: Come, gentlemen, the night is getting late, and we still have yet to be fed. We must hasten our examinations. Let us travel to the second floor.
The philosophers' rating: Fourth Form of the Good
Cobb Second Floor
EUGENE: So guys... this is pretty much exactly like the third floor bathroom.
MILTON: The color scheme is slightly more pleasing to the eye, though.
MICHAEL: Indeed, we must not discredit the value of simple aesthetics. Just as democracies are oftentimes ruled by unfit sectarian demagogues, a new paint job oftentimes makes the difference between a bad bathroom and a mediocre one.
EUGENE: Indeed, what you have said is true.
MILTON: Furthermore, the stall door is made out of what appears to be recycled milk jugs. The rugged feel reminds me of the slowly decaying visage of Silas P. Cobb that overlooks the building from his second floor perch.
MICHAEL: Indeed, it is so. Come, my friends, let us make our way to the first floor.
The philosophers' rating: Fifth Form of the Good
Cobb First Floor
MICHAEL: Seriously, guys. This bathroom is exactly the same as the third-floor bathroom, except for the fact that it doesn't have any scintillating graffiti on the walls of the stall.
MILTON: Oh, I truly feel pained when I think about the lack of creativity when it comes to bathrooms. How far my institution has fallen.
EUGENE: My friends, let us not worry ourselves with this mediocre bathroom. Come, let us explore the basement bathroom.
The philosophers' rating: Fourth Form of the Good
Cobb Basement
MICHAEL: My friends, there are a plethora of urinals in this bathroom. In fact, just as the soul has three parts, this bathroom has eleven urinals. In addition to ten normal-sized urinals, there is also a sole shin-high urinal which is apparently intended for use by Hobbits alone.
EUGENE: I personally am impressed by the large recessed rectangular prism in the wall. It seems quite useful for storing things like backpacks, books, or crazy ex-girlfriends, all of which are burdensome annoyances when one wants to pee.
MILTON: I call them cubbies, Eugene. But nonetheless, they are indeed quite useful and elegant. I, for one, intend to rest inside the cubby tonight instead of going home.
MICHAEL: Even more impressive is the fact that the cubby is utterly devoid of any dirt or bathroom filth. I really hate it when I get pee on my coat, so thankfully, I feel perfectly safe leaving my fuzzy brown coat in the cubby as I tinkle.
EUGENE: There is another ingenious invention on the other side of the bathroom: some enterprising individual has ripped off the door for the handicapped stall. I have full faith that this door is now currently serving as a beer pong table somewhere on Frat Row.
MILTON: Well, it is certainly good to see that the handicapped people on campus don't even have to open their own doors anymore. However, I'm not so sure that it's a good thing that we can see them as they poop.
The philosophers' rating: Eighth Form of the Good
Miles
Simha
MILTON: Indeed, it is so.
EUGENE: As such, we must undertake an examination of the bathrooms in the Academic buildings as well. Oftentimes these bathrooms are used by weary students as a respite and as an excuse to leave their really boring classes for a few minutes.
MICHAEL: Also, I hear that kids oftentimes have to poop. The bathrooms are good for that, too.
MILTON: Indeed, it is so.
EUGENE: Well then, my friends, it is only natural that we begin at venerable Cobb Hall, the building where HUM, SOSC, and language classes abound. Indeed, much as justice pervades throughout our serene Republic, core classes pervade throughout this fine building. Thus, we must examine its bathrooms.
MILTON: But Eugene, an important question remains: where must we start in the building?
EUGENE: Let us commence our search on the fifth floor of this pristine building. When studying an object, one must begin at the top in order to gain a full understanding of the full thing, that is to say, of the thing itself.
MILTON: But Eugene, I do not understand. Why must we begin on the fifth floor?
EUGENE: The fifth floor, my dear Milton, being the top of the thing, must therefore be also the most essential to the thing itself. Just as the hawk is rendered unable to hunt if its head is severed from the body, Cobb would be unable to function were it not for its glorious fifth floor.
MICHAEL: But Eugene, what about the roof?
EUGENE: The roof is left to the elements, dumbass. The three of us are academics, and in fact, one of us is actually dead. Clearly, none of us have been outdoors anytime recently. Thus, the fifth floor is clearly superior in all matters: aesthetic, meteorologically, and bathroomy.
MILTON: Furthermore, just as the bust of Silas P. Cobb keeps close watch over the entirety of the building, we will be able to cast an examining eye over the entirety of the bathrooms if we begin at the top of the building. Thus, we must start at the fifth floor.
MICHAEL: Ah, it must be so. It is all clear now.
EUGENE: Now that we are all in accord as to the importance of the fifth floor, we can begin our examination.
Cobb Fifth Floor
MILTON: By Zeus! This bathroom is absolutely tiny.
EUGENE: Well, it is, after all, intended for single-person use. I do not think that the floor-plan designers expected to have three aged academics in this bathroom at the same time, Milton.
MICHAEL: Indeed, it is so. Furthermore, the bathroom is gender neutral.
MILTON: Unfortunately for my fat head, this place isn't size neutral.
EUGENE: Indeed, this is a grave problem.
MICHAEL: Sadly, this restroom seems to have fallen into disarray: the cover on the fluorescent lamps is nowhere to be seen, thus forcing a blinding light onto the eyes of whoever is unlucky enough to poop here.
MILTON: Indeed, just as the seeds of justice emanate from the philosopher king, so does the fluorescent light blind the patrons of this bathroom.
EUGENE: Furthermore, the cover on the toilet paper dispenser is cracked. Perhaps some young scholar made an ill-advised attempt to steal not only a few rolls of toilet paper, but also the dispenser itself.
MICHAEL: Indeed, it is so. Also, the ceiling appears to slowly be falling down thanks to rainwater seepage from the roof. If the ceiling were justice, then I would relish and praise the fact that it is coming down from the heavens and spreading its glory to the world. In this case, however, it just means that bits of plaster are falling on whoever is pooping. Not quite as inspiring, I'm afraid.
MILTON: Well, I feel that we have spent more than enough time here; it is time for us to visit some of the other bathrooms in the building.
The philosophers' rating: Fourth Form of the Good
Cobb Fourth Floor
MILTON: So... where's the men's room?
EUGENE: Sadly, it seems that someone has removed the labels from what used to be the men's room. It now appears to be some sort of closet containing all manners of exotic treasures.
MICHAEL: No! We must maintain our single-minded focus on the pursuit of justice with regards to bathrooms. Just as the flute player plays the flute, so must we continue our examination of bathrooms.
MILTON: Indeed, it is true. Although staring at a pile of two-by-fours, green foam, a Wet/Dry Vac, and some composition tiles allows me plenty of time to ponder the meaning of the world, we must leave this floor and examine some more bathrooms. Only through further examination can we fully comprehend the meaning of the good.
EUGENE: Indeed, it is so. Let us go to the third floor.
The philosophers' rating: N/A: The place doesn't even exist.
Cobb Third Floor
MILTON: I see that this bathroom, much like the Reg Stacks bathrooms, is equipped with dual flushless toilets.
MICHAEL: Indeed, it is so. I particularly enjoy it when the burst of water flushes the urinal's contents every few minutes; it reminds me of how the just philosopher king must brainwash his citizens every few minutes in order to maintain tranquility, order, and justice.
EUGENE: There is also a solitary stall to the right of the urinals, and it contains some meaningless gibberish graffiti.
MILTON: However, there is a poetic "Fuck You" written on the side. Oh, how it warms my barren heart to see my students engaged in true scholarly debate!
MICHAEL: By Zeus! For some infernal reason, the hot and cold water taps are separate. Just as the three parts of the soul must work in tandem for the individual to truly be just, the three types of water - hot and cold - must run together like the rivers Tigris and Euphrates and be united in order for the bathroom user to fully enjoy his hand-washing experience.
EUGENE: Although your analogies are clearly impenetrably true, I only counted two types of water there, Michael.
MICHAEL: Indeed, it is so.
MILTON: Come, gentlemen, the night is getting late, and we still have yet to be fed. We must hasten our examinations. Let us travel to the second floor.
The philosophers' rating: Fourth Form of the Good
Cobb Second Floor
EUGENE: So guys... this is pretty much exactly like the third floor bathroom.
MILTON: The color scheme is slightly more pleasing to the eye, though.
MICHAEL: Indeed, we must not discredit the value of simple aesthetics. Just as democracies are oftentimes ruled by unfit sectarian demagogues, a new paint job oftentimes makes the difference between a bad bathroom and a mediocre one.
EUGENE: Indeed, what you have said is true.
MILTON: Furthermore, the stall door is made out of what appears to be recycled milk jugs. The rugged feel reminds me of the slowly decaying visage of Silas P. Cobb that overlooks the building from his second floor perch.
MICHAEL: Indeed, it is so. Come, my friends, let us make our way to the first floor.
The philosophers' rating: Fifth Form of the Good
Cobb First Floor
MICHAEL: Seriously, guys. This bathroom is exactly the same as the third-floor bathroom, except for the fact that it doesn't have any scintillating graffiti on the walls of the stall.
MILTON: Oh, I truly feel pained when I think about the lack of creativity when it comes to bathrooms. How far my institution has fallen.
EUGENE: My friends, let us not worry ourselves with this mediocre bathroom. Come, let us explore the basement bathroom.
The philosophers' rating: Fourth Form of the Good
Cobb Basement
MICHAEL: My friends, there are a plethora of urinals in this bathroom. In fact, just as the soul has three parts, this bathroom has eleven urinals. In addition to ten normal-sized urinals, there is also a sole shin-high urinal which is apparently intended for use by Hobbits alone.
EUGENE: I personally am impressed by the large recessed rectangular prism in the wall. It seems quite useful for storing things like backpacks, books, or crazy ex-girlfriends, all of which are burdensome annoyances when one wants to pee.
MILTON: I call them cubbies, Eugene. But nonetheless, they are indeed quite useful and elegant. I, for one, intend to rest inside the cubby tonight instead of going home.
MICHAEL: Even more impressive is the fact that the cubby is utterly devoid of any dirt or bathroom filth. I really hate it when I get pee on my coat, so thankfully, I feel perfectly safe leaving my fuzzy brown coat in the cubby as I tinkle.
EUGENE: There is another ingenious invention on the other side of the bathroom: some enterprising individual has ripped off the door for the handicapped stall. I have full faith that this door is now currently serving as a beer pong table somewhere on Frat Row.
MILTON: Well, it is certainly good to see that the handicapped people on campus don't even have to open their own doors anymore. However, I'm not so sure that it's a good thing that we can see them as they poop.
The philosophers' rating: Eighth Form of the Good
Miles
Simha
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
The Reg: Stacks
MICHAEL: My friends, I oftentimes find myself engaged deep in the depths of scholarly thought when all of a sudden the urge to use the restroom hits me.
EUGENE: But Michael, I do not understand.
MICHAEL: Imagine a line, Eugene. At one end of the line, we have the point A. On the other end, we have the point B. Midway through the line lies point C. Midway through double the distance from A to B, yet one-half the distance from C to A, lies point D. Point E, on the other hand, is situated to the left of point A, equidistant from points A, B, and C, yet two-thirds of that distance from D. The distance from D and E is one-half of the inverse of the distance from A to C, which in turn is equivalent to the distance from D to E. Through some stroke of mathematical curiosity, the distance from C to D is not equal to the distance from D to C. And thus, I sometimes have to poop when in the stacks.
EUGENE: Ah, it must be so.
MILTON: When such an urge hits me, I typically just use the word of John Maynard Keynes to wipe my genius butt. Finally: a use for such silly theories.
EUGENE: Well, some of our fellow scholars and students typically prefer to use bathrooms, Milton. Let us embark on a study of the bathrooms in the Reg Stacks.
A-Level Stacks
MICHAEL: I see that this fine establishment uses dual flushless urinals. Apparently I am the only one who has a problem with the idea of everyone's pee collecting in the bowl of a urinal.
EUGENE: Do not think of it as your pee and someone else's pee, dear Michael. You must instead consider it as the pee of the multitudes, the pee of the masses. We are all sharing in this pee, and thus it is the pee of all. It is fitting for such pee - which itself can be said to symbolize the harmony of our society as a whole - to lay for all to see in dual flushless urinals. When the cascades of sweet water rush down the tubes every few minutes, it is not just my pee that gets flushed, dear Michael. Instead, it is the pee of society.
MILTON: Verily, this urinal is in fact a true representation of our Republic.
EUGENE: Ah, it is true. Just as the philosopher and the king in our glorious society are in tandem and are in fact one and the same, the two flushless urinals are adjoined at the side so that they both experience the same flushing and the same back wall in the exact same manner.
MICHAEL: We must not forget about this lonely stall, though. It appears quite content to be separate from the dual- flushless urinals. Once again, sadly, there is a distinct lack of witticisms on the wall. It pains me to see that my students feel that they can poop without expressing themselves in writing at the same time.
MILTON: I see that the University has taken pains to label this as the Handicapped Reading Room. Sadly, I fear that the reading of books in such an environment likely poses a health hazard. Fortunately, I don't really like handicapped people. They take my parking spots.
EUGENE: I don't think that's what it means, Milton.
MICHAEL: Another noteworthy aspect: unlike all of the other bathrooms that we have thus far visited, this one is not male-only; instead, it is unisex.
MILTON: Men and women? Both using the same facilities? Certainly such a set-up will lead to clear moral degradation and, indeed, to the decay and demise of the society at large. In fact, just as the flute player plays the flute, so will unisex bathrooms lead us to ruin.
MICHAEL: Indeed, my friends, I strongly prefer restrooms that are frequented only by young boys and aged men like ourselves.
MILTON: Indeed.
EUGENE: I do not doubt the fact that both of you prefer facilities shared by young boys, but it is time for us to move on to the first floor. We have many more bathrooms to review.
The philosophers' rating: Fifth Form of the Good
First Floor Stacks
MILTON: So... I don't really see any books here.
EUGENE: Indeed, it is sad yet true. For a portion of the building advertised as being "the stacks," there is indeed a distinct paucity of stackage.
MICHAEL: Indeed.
MILTON: Yes Eugene, it must be so.
EUGENE: Well, yes. In fact, just as a human soul has three parts - spirit, intellect, and appetite - the soul of the Reg also has three: the reading area and the stacks. It is a shame that the various parts of the Reg are not in complete harmony; it is this harmony that leads us to true justice.
MICHAEL: I counted two parts there, Eugene. But hey, you're the scientist here.
EUGENE: Indeed, it is so.
MILTON: Sadly, in addition to there not being any sort of stacking area here, there also is not any type of stacks restroom. This is in fact true justice: patrons who are dumb enough to use the First Floor, which is clearly the most useless floor in the entire library, deserve to not have their excretory needs serviced quickly. It is in fact sweet and poetic that such fools have to make the trek all the way to the special collections area whenever they are in need of a restroom.
MICHAEL: Indeed, this is true. The first floor is clearly a small city of sows, and its users are simply not mentally equipped to understand that other floors are far superior. It is good to see that our fair University is taking steps to eliminate this foolish population by forcing them to make the dangerous venture to the special collections area bathroom.
EUGENE: My friends, we have spent enough time here in this craven place. Let us escape to higher moral ground by going upstairs.
The philosophers' rating: N/A. The bathroom doesn't even exist.
Second Floor Stacks
MILTON: This door is locked. Not even my superior intellect is able to open it.
MICHAEL: Alas, you are right. What infernal plague has made us too weak to open such a door?
EUGENE: Well, for one, the sign on the door says that this place is out of order.
MILTON: Well, either way - I gotta poop. Let us hurry upstairs to the third floor stacks.
Third Floor Stacks
MICHAEL: My friends, this restroom seems remarkably similar to the A-Level stacks restroom.
EUGENE: Indeed Michael, it is so. It pains me to see this distinct lack of creativity. The only differences are minor: this restroom is male-only, and there is a slight leak in the right faucet.
MICHAEL: Indeed, the lack of creativity is quite painful to view. I feel that philosopher-king Zimmer has not done enough to ensure the variety of bathrooms in the stacks. Perhaps his concerns lay elsewhere. Sadly, his lack of dedication to the cause is harming the entire society at large; perhaps he is not philosopher enough for the job.
MILTON: My friends, what you have said is indeed true, but can you guys leave for a minute or two? The fact that you two are pontificating as to the merits of this bathroom is making it kind of hard for me to focus on my poop.
The philosophers' rating: Fifth Form of the Good
Miles
Simha
EUGENE: But Michael, I do not understand.
MICHAEL: Imagine a line, Eugene. At one end of the line, we have the point A. On the other end, we have the point B. Midway through the line lies point C. Midway through double the distance from A to B, yet one-half the distance from C to A, lies point D. Point E, on the other hand, is situated to the left of point A, equidistant from points A, B, and C, yet two-thirds of that distance from D. The distance from D and E is one-half of the inverse of the distance from A to C, which in turn is equivalent to the distance from D to E. Through some stroke of mathematical curiosity, the distance from C to D is not equal to the distance from D to C. And thus, I sometimes have to poop when in the stacks.
EUGENE: Ah, it must be so.
MILTON: When such an urge hits me, I typically just use the word of John Maynard Keynes to wipe my genius butt. Finally: a use for such silly theories.
EUGENE: Well, some of our fellow scholars and students typically prefer to use bathrooms, Milton. Let us embark on a study of the bathrooms in the Reg Stacks.
A-Level Stacks
MICHAEL: I see that this fine establishment uses dual flushless urinals. Apparently I am the only one who has a problem with the idea of everyone's pee collecting in the bowl of a urinal.
EUGENE: Do not think of it as your pee and someone else's pee, dear Michael. You must instead consider it as the pee of the multitudes, the pee of the masses. We are all sharing in this pee, and thus it is the pee of all. It is fitting for such pee - which itself can be said to symbolize the harmony of our society as a whole - to lay for all to see in dual flushless urinals. When the cascades of sweet water rush down the tubes every few minutes, it is not just my pee that gets flushed, dear Michael. Instead, it is the pee of society.
MILTON: Verily, this urinal is in fact a true representation of our Republic.
EUGENE: Ah, it is true. Just as the philosopher and the king in our glorious society are in tandem and are in fact one and the same, the two flushless urinals are adjoined at the side so that they both experience the same flushing and the same back wall in the exact same manner.
MICHAEL: We must not forget about this lonely stall, though. It appears quite content to be separate from the dual- flushless urinals. Once again, sadly, there is a distinct lack of witticisms on the wall. It pains me to see that my students feel that they can poop without expressing themselves in writing at the same time.
MILTON: I see that the University has taken pains to label this as the Handicapped Reading Room. Sadly, I fear that the reading of books in such an environment likely poses a health hazard. Fortunately, I don't really like handicapped people. They take my parking spots.
EUGENE: I don't think that's what it means, Milton.
MICHAEL: Another noteworthy aspect: unlike all of the other bathrooms that we have thus far visited, this one is not male-only; instead, it is unisex.
MILTON: Men and women? Both using the same facilities? Certainly such a set-up will lead to clear moral degradation and, indeed, to the decay and demise of the society at large. In fact, just as the flute player plays the flute, so will unisex bathrooms lead us to ruin.
MICHAEL: Indeed, my friends, I strongly prefer restrooms that are frequented only by young boys and aged men like ourselves.
MILTON: Indeed.
EUGENE: I do not doubt the fact that both of you prefer facilities shared by young boys, but it is time for us to move on to the first floor. We have many more bathrooms to review.
The philosophers' rating: Fifth Form of the Good
First Floor Stacks
MILTON: So... I don't really see any books here.
EUGENE: Indeed, it is sad yet true. For a portion of the building advertised as being "the stacks," there is indeed a distinct paucity of stackage.
MICHAEL: Indeed.
MILTON: Yes Eugene, it must be so.
EUGENE: Well, yes. In fact, just as a human soul has three parts - spirit, intellect, and appetite - the soul of the Reg also has three: the reading area and the stacks. It is a shame that the various parts of the Reg are not in complete harmony; it is this harmony that leads us to true justice.
MICHAEL: I counted two parts there, Eugene. But hey, you're the scientist here.
EUGENE: Indeed, it is so.
MILTON: Sadly, in addition to there not being any sort of stacking area here, there also is not any type of stacks restroom. This is in fact true justice: patrons who are dumb enough to use the First Floor, which is clearly the most useless floor in the entire library, deserve to not have their excretory needs serviced quickly. It is in fact sweet and poetic that such fools have to make the trek all the way to the special collections area whenever they are in need of a restroom.
MICHAEL: Indeed, this is true. The first floor is clearly a small city of sows, and its users are simply not mentally equipped to understand that other floors are far superior. It is good to see that our fair University is taking steps to eliminate this foolish population by forcing them to make the dangerous venture to the special collections area bathroom.
EUGENE: My friends, we have spent enough time here in this craven place. Let us escape to higher moral ground by going upstairs.
The philosophers' rating: N/A. The bathroom doesn't even exist.
Second Floor Stacks
MILTON: This door is locked. Not even my superior intellect is able to open it.
MICHAEL: Alas, you are right. What infernal plague has made us too weak to open such a door?
EUGENE: Well, for one, the sign on the door says that this place is out of order.
MILTON: Well, either way - I gotta poop. Let us hurry upstairs to the third floor stacks.
Third Floor Stacks
MICHAEL: My friends, this restroom seems remarkably similar to the A-Level stacks restroom.
EUGENE: Indeed Michael, it is so. It pains me to see this distinct lack of creativity. The only differences are minor: this restroom is male-only, and there is a slight leak in the right faucet.
MICHAEL: Indeed, the lack of creativity is quite painful to view. I feel that philosopher-king Zimmer has not done enough to ensure the variety of bathrooms in the stacks. Perhaps his concerns lay elsewhere. Sadly, his lack of dedication to the cause is harming the entire society at large; perhaps he is not philosopher enough for the job.
MILTON: My friends, what you have said is indeed true, but can you guys leave for a minute or two? The fact that you two are pontificating as to the merits of this bathroom is making it kind of hard for me to focus on my poop.
The philosophers' rating: Fifth Form of the Good
Miles
Simha
Monday, July 23, 2007
The Reg
MILTON: Ah, my friends, we have arrived at the Reg, which is near and dear to my forlorn heart.
EUGENE: Indeed.
MICHAEL: Let us commence our search on the A-Level of this pristine building. When studying an object, one must begin at the base in order to gain a full understanding of the full thing, that is to say, of the thing itself.
MILTON: But Michael, I do not understand. Why must we begin on the A-Level?
MICHAEL: The A-Level, my dear Milton, being the bottom of the thing, must therefore be also the most essential to the thing itself. That is to say, if not for the existence of the A-Level, the entire building would not exist.
MILTON: But Michael, what about the B-Level?
MICHAEL: The A-Level has Ex Libris, dumbass. It is clearly superior in all matters: aesthetic, culinary, and bathroomy.
MILTON: Ah, it must be so. It is all clear now.
EUGENE: Now that we are all in accord as to the importance of the A-Level, we can begin our examination.
A-Level of the Reg
MICHAEL: I see that this restroom lacks two important amenities: French-style bidets and truth.
EUGENE: Let us not focus on what this restroom lacks, my friends. In order to fully understand the essence of the bathroom - what makes this bathroom this bathroom - we must first describe what this bathroom is.
MICHAEL: There are two slightly askew metallic coat hangers on the wall. I find that they are useful for hanging my coat. My coat is brown and fuzzy.
MILTON: I personally have taken note of the lack of graffiti on the walls. I oftentimes find myself reading humorous sayings on the wall, many of which assail the silly little Economic policies that I believe in. It is quite amusing to read how wrong everyone else is.
MICHAEL: One time I had a yellow coat, but then I dropped it.
EUGENE: Ah, I see that some clever young scholar has deduced a way to break open the toilet paper dispensers in both stalls. I am proud to see such enterprising and clever spirit among my younger compatriots.
MILTON: Also, the extra-wide handicapped stall is quite useful. My head is too fat to fit into the other stall, sadly.
MICHAEL: Fortunately, the full-size mirror on the left wall does a good job of accurately capturing my youthful beauty. I have oftentimes gone to this bathroom with the sole purpose of staring at myself and my brown coat.
EUGENE: My friends, it is now time for us to make our way upstairs so that we may examine the men's room on the first floor.
MILTON: Walking up stairs is such tedious work for a man of my intelligence.
The philosophers' rating: Sixth Form of the Good
First Floor of the Reg
MICHAEL: Ah, these ovaloid mirrors are especially elegant; I feel like they are suited for reflecting my poignant face.
MILTON: Do you mean pointy?
MICHAEL: No, definitely poignant. The poignancy of my face is, in fact, that which is the underlying cause of the face itself. Much as the flute player plays the flute, my face is poignant.
EUGENE: Ah, my friends! There is a treasure in the first urinal! I have discovered an empty Diet Coke bottle. Does anybody have a pack of Mentos?
MILTON: I have discovered another youthful artifact in one of the stalls: a copy of the latest issue of The Onion. The younger generations treat their news in such a crass manner, I'm afraid.
MICHAEL: But Milton, I do not understand.
MILTON: Shut up, Michael. Go and play with your fuzzy coat.
MICHAEL: Ah, indeed, I see. It must be so.
EUGENE: The expansiveness of this restroom reminds me of the KJR-382P Solar Belt. Both of them are very big.
MILTON: I also sense a faint smell in the air. I am reminded of mint juleps and oak trees.
MICHAEL: Really? I think it smells like poop.
The philosophers' rating: Seventh Form of the Good
Miles
Simha
EUGENE: Indeed.
MICHAEL: Let us commence our search on the A-Level of this pristine building. When studying an object, one must begin at the base in order to gain a full understanding of the full thing, that is to say, of the thing itself.
MILTON: But Michael, I do not understand. Why must we begin on the A-Level?
MICHAEL: The A-Level, my dear Milton, being the bottom of the thing, must therefore be also the most essential to the thing itself. That is to say, if not for the existence of the A-Level, the entire building would not exist.
MILTON: But Michael, what about the B-Level?
MICHAEL: The A-Level has Ex Libris, dumbass. It is clearly superior in all matters: aesthetic, culinary, and bathroomy.
MILTON: Ah, it must be so. It is all clear now.
EUGENE: Now that we are all in accord as to the importance of the A-Level, we can begin our examination.
A-Level of the Reg
MICHAEL: I see that this restroom lacks two important amenities: French-style bidets and truth.
EUGENE: Let us not focus on what this restroom lacks, my friends. In order to fully understand the essence of the bathroom - what makes this bathroom this bathroom - we must first describe what this bathroom is.
MICHAEL: There are two slightly askew metallic coat hangers on the wall. I find that they are useful for hanging my coat. My coat is brown and fuzzy.
MILTON: I personally have taken note of the lack of graffiti on the walls. I oftentimes find myself reading humorous sayings on the wall, many of which assail the silly little Economic policies that I believe in. It is quite amusing to read how wrong everyone else is.
MICHAEL: One time I had a yellow coat, but then I dropped it.
EUGENE: Ah, I see that some clever young scholar has deduced a way to break open the toilet paper dispensers in both stalls. I am proud to see such enterprising and clever spirit among my younger compatriots.
MILTON: Also, the extra-wide handicapped stall is quite useful. My head is too fat to fit into the other stall, sadly.
MICHAEL: Fortunately, the full-size mirror on the left wall does a good job of accurately capturing my youthful beauty. I have oftentimes gone to this bathroom with the sole purpose of staring at myself and my brown coat.
EUGENE: My friends, it is now time for us to make our way upstairs so that we may examine the men's room on the first floor.
MILTON: Walking up stairs is such tedious work for a man of my intelligence.
The philosophers' rating: Sixth Form of the Good
First Floor of the Reg
MICHAEL: Ah, these ovaloid mirrors are especially elegant; I feel like they are suited for reflecting my poignant face.
MILTON: Do you mean pointy?
MICHAEL: No, definitely poignant. The poignancy of my face is, in fact, that which is the underlying cause of the face itself. Much as the flute player plays the flute, my face is poignant.
EUGENE: Ah, my friends! There is a treasure in the first urinal! I have discovered an empty Diet Coke bottle. Does anybody have a pack of Mentos?
MILTON: I have discovered another youthful artifact in one of the stalls: a copy of the latest issue of The Onion. The younger generations treat their news in such a crass manner, I'm afraid.
MICHAEL: But Milton, I do not understand.
MILTON: Shut up, Michael. Go and play with your fuzzy coat.
MICHAEL: Ah, indeed, I see. It must be so.
EUGENE: The expansiveness of this restroom reminds me of the KJR-382P Solar Belt. Both of them are very big.
MILTON: I also sense a faint smell in the air. I am reminded of mint juleps and oak trees.
MICHAEL: Really? I think it smells like poop.
The philosophers' rating: Seventh Form of the Good
Miles
Simha
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Introduction
EUGENE PARKER: Indeed, my friends, it has been many hours since we have arrived here at Pierce, and we are still unfed.
MILTON FRIEDMAN: Perhaps we may turn our attention to another pertinent matter. From time to time, we citizens may find ourselves in need of a restroom on campus. But yet, many students have had a similar query: which restrooms are superior to the others? That is to say, which restrooms are characterized by a singular excellence that the others lack?
MICHAEL JONES: But Milton, I do not understand.
MILTON: Ah, my dear Michael. It is indeed rather simple: some restrooms, being more restroomy than others, are inherently characterized by a sense of betterness that other bathrooms do not achieve.
MICHAEL: By Zeus, you have made it so clear.
MILTON: One may compare this to a situation at the cavernous reading room at Harper Library: when the light shines in through the tall stained glass windows, the oftentimes sleeping patrons are, on occasion, awoken by the rich colors that have seeped into their study space. These patrons, being naive and uneducated collegians, have no idea as to how this ethereal light has arrived in their library; in the same manner, some restrooms on campus are better than others.
EUGENE: Indeed, it must be so.
MILTON: In that case, we must first undertake a survey of many restrooms in order to establish that which makes a restroom superior to others. Let us commence this study summarily.
Simha
MILTON FRIEDMAN: Perhaps we may turn our attention to another pertinent matter. From time to time, we citizens may find ourselves in need of a restroom on campus. But yet, many students have had a similar query: which restrooms are superior to the others? That is to say, which restrooms are characterized by a singular excellence that the others lack?
MICHAEL JONES: But Milton, I do not understand.
MILTON: Ah, my dear Michael. It is indeed rather simple: some restrooms, being more restroomy than others, are inherently characterized by a sense of betterness that other bathrooms do not achieve.
MICHAEL: By Zeus, you have made it so clear.
MILTON: One may compare this to a situation at the cavernous reading room at Harper Library: when the light shines in through the tall stained glass windows, the oftentimes sleeping patrons are, on occasion, awoken by the rich colors that have seeped into their study space. These patrons, being naive and uneducated collegians, have no idea as to how this ethereal light has arrived in their library; in the same manner, some restrooms on campus are better than others.
EUGENE: Indeed, it must be so.
MILTON: In that case, we must first undertake a survey of many restrooms in order to establish that which makes a restroom superior to others. Let us commence this study summarily.
Simha
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