Hope you had a stellar long weekend, because I know that I sure did! Before I get into the juice of this article I just have to tell you all about how much fun I had. For starters, Eating Clubs at Princeton University are lit like a friggin christmas tree. The best part isn’t even being there. For a high school junior such as myself, the best part is getting in. It’s like getting away with murder, except not nearly as horrible or violent. Hmm… perhaps thats a bad simile. Nonetheless, you get what I’m saying- its exhilarating.
I think that’s something we’re seriously lacking around here: excitement. Everything is so boring, all the time. So it doesn’t come as a surprise that the only thing anyone can ever talk about is how trashed they get over the weekend. When the most exciting thing to do is sneak into a pretentious, almost-frat house with a bunch of nerds drinking watered down beer, you know that life is just about as monotonous as it gets.
That’s the excuse that I give people for begging me to write more gossipy posts, which allow them to “guess” who I’m talking about, when most of the time I’m just reiterating things that the grand majority of my readers already know. I dispense this excuse for these people who nag me to “expose the truth,” but only the “fun truth,” the truth that “is interesting.” What? You people don’t think that racial oppression and gender based injustice is an interesting truth enough?
No, obviously not. But that’s because you aren’t looking for the truth. You seek a reflection of the truth, which really isn’t the truth at all. It’s a story. Now, if you want me to tell you a story, I will, but I won’t parade around masquerading it as the truth. There was once a time when I did have some truth to tell you, “fun truth,” as a few of you call it. But that time has passed. There are only so many stories I can tell about drunk over privileged white kids. There are only so many times I can tell you to get rid of your crappy friends. There are only so many times I can explain that it isn’t okay to hookup with the significant others of your peers. Only so many times, my friends.
The real truth is that Princeton isn’t what’s truly boring, but instead the people of Princeton. We’re boring. We’re monochromatic, tunnel visioned, self absorbed, unconcerned, sheltered. We’re dull, you guys. The most interesting thing that’s happened in the past two weeks is that someone got their hip popped out while having sex at a party. Seriously?
I mean, I’m not complaining (surprising, I know) I’m just saying, stop giving us so much credit. In terms of news, we have very little to offer. In terms of stories, we’re lacking there as well. Nothing happens, and you look to me to dress up said nothingness and serve it to you on a virtual plate with an apple in its mouth. Trust me, I want to keep you entertained, I really do, but you’ve gotta give me more to work with PHS. Or else, your gossip hungry souls are going to starve. And that’s the truth.
Until next time,