The Lure of the Dark Side

Well, I'm glad to say that thanks to my Star Wars review, my blog has seen a large readership spike. Apparently, my blog pops up in google searches for "Javva the Hutt", " 'Return of the Sith' Sexy Twilek" and "Episode 3 Padme pregnant still some good in him." I guess that works, although it irks me that I never got this many people reading my blog during my previous (and better) months of posting. Oh well. That's George Lucas for you. Damn you . . .

Some comments would be nice though. Reaffirming or something like that.

Now, I will resist the urge to type the words "Twilek Sex" repeatedly in an attempt to drive readership up even more, because that would not be ethical. Must resist . . .

That's better.

Seeing as how there are more reader on this site, I'm going to proceed to probably drive most of them away. With this blog.

Observe.

I've posted before about my inability to really get work done this term. Now that the term is winding now, I'm feeling the pressure, and such, I'm getting more work done. But I'm still not really working optimally, and I've found one scapegoat.

The first floor bathroom in Wheeler Hall.

See, since I live in the dorms, and I live in a single without even a half-bath, I have the use the communal bathroom on the first floor. Living on the first floor does have its perks, like not having to move your junk up and down multiple flights of stairs, but it does have rather large drawbacks. Especially when it comes to the bathroom.

I've found the men's toilet (the only one, I might add) in rather unusable condition on several occasions. A couple of times due to someone's binge drinking, and a couple of times due to someone's . . . well, let's just say that guys on my floor either eat tons of Mexican or like to hold themselves for three days straight. Or both. Not cool at all.

It's not Trainspotting bad, or Desperado bad, but it's bad enough.

In addition, it's often being used, because on any night, there are more people using the bathroom than there should be; drunks tend not to walk up stairs to use a toilet. So even if it's been cleaned by the janitor (once a week, which is six times too few), there's a good chance someone will walk in, see the door is closed to the toilet, and leave. It's more disturbing when they peer through the slit between the door and the wall to see if there's REALLY anyone inside. That's creepy. Don't do that. Ever.

Then, there's an even bigger problem, one which gnaws at the roots of my soul and tears at what is left of my sanity like a newly awoken Elder God.

The first floor bathroom in Wheeler Hall, because of it's overall uncleanliness and overusage, is utterly unconducive to reading while on the can.

The walls are nasty, the floor is grungy, and the toilet is pretty groady too. Therefore, it would take a concentration greater than mine to focus on any reading material, not to mention philosophical ponderings.

I do not believe this is a "male problem." I would assume that there are girls that also like to read while on the can. I just have not met any of them. If any of them are reading this, please speak up so we can defeat this gender stereotype.

But getting back to reading while on the throne. I do it. A lot. I've been known to get through a copy of Time magazine. When I can, the Op-Ed page of the New York Times is nice too. Except you get all the print on your hands, and while it's only a minor nuisance usually . . . .

I read novels as well, although obviously not all in one sitting. Tolkien, The Romance of the Three Kingdoms, and a few other books are pretty much bathroom staples for me.

It leads to some of my best thinking. I had a few breakthroughs fall and winter term regarding my thesis while I was on the throne. It's entirely possible I would not have finished if I didn't take the time to think while on the can.

There's a certain calmness that lends itself to contemplation. It's a contemplation that is utterly lost when the stall is filthy, and people are walking in periodically to see if the latrine is occupied.

I can honestly say that it bothers me more than people smoking cigarettes outside my window, which also happens, because my room is next to an entrance. That's a little bothersome, but I can crack my door open and deal with it.

I don't really care about sharing a shower; there's a curtain. So there's no problem there.

I also don't really care that the walls are paper thin and my neighbor sometimes brings home a lady friend. I can sleep through that. Besides, considering how loud I snore, I probably shouldn't complain.

But not being able to read or get a little privacy in the men's bathroom?

Seriously, I wonder if the greatest philosophers and writers and thinkers (men or women) just had amazing, pristine, well-kept toilets that they could retreat to. What if this were true? While I'm sure having a nice bathroom doesn't make your average socialite any more intelligent, who knows?

Would Einstein ever have written his paper on the photoelectric effect if the toilet in the patent office in Bern was filthy?

Is it possible that Decartes (that drunken fart), if he did not have a nice place to take a dump, would not have come up with "Cogito, Ergo Sum," and could only think "Voro, Ergo Defaecare" (I eat, therefore I poo)?

Perhaps Janis Joplin would never have written "a song of great social and political import."

And I'm next to positive that Trent Reznor has the most kick-ass, illin', insert-euphemism-for-awesome-here, toilet on the face of the Earth. Although it was probably out of order when he penned his latest album.

You get my drift.

I have to make do with the bathroom on first floor Wheeler though.

Life is so unfair.