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
Showing posts with label Seventh Form of the Good. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Seventh Form of the Good. Show all posts
Monday, August 27, 2007
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
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
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)