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
Showing posts with label Eighth Form of the Good. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Eighth Form of the Good. Show all posts
Thursday, August 2, 2007
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
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