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