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before you read this, let me start by making sure that you can stand stream of consciousness writing and colloqualism.
we're good? great.
so, duke. gothic wonderland, yadda yadda. i lived in kilgo, i know how it is to live in the castle.
i'm not concerned with external appearances. i'm interested in what goes on in the minds of the pseudo price and princesses of campus. some newbies may claim that the predominant subject on the mind are academic things. blatant liars - that's what i call those people.
let's face it. we're all post pubescence by the time that we get here, unless there's some brilliant 12 year old in the class of 2012 that i was unaware of, in which case, please excuse my lack of consideration.
and, that said, post pubescence - that screams one thing - sex. what an awkward word to broach upon with your parents, but, well, whatever. we're all 20 somethings here, or if not, getting there, so, whatever.
you may have done it as a p-frosh - the prized hook up experience with some college guy or chick. you're so cool. you're still in high school.
but, let's break that down. what happened? you got in a plane or car and drove to duke - step one. step two - you looked around at the campus and thought, uhhh, east campus is ugly. rad. step three - you tried to figure out a way to get a hold of some booze, and then find yourself at shooters. step four - find someone who seems remotely attractive, make your way over, and barring excessiveness, grind then make out. twenty minutes later, you're wearing a whole lot less than what you started off with.
so, you think, yah, so? where was the breach in ethics in that abridged version of a friday/saturday night (excluding the magic that could result from thirsty thursdays)? well, let me take a hack at that.
whoever this girl or boy is that said person ended up being vaguely clothed with was, hate to break it, probably not the boy or girl who'll transcend the messy hookup to become the lifetime partner who'll share the white picket fence and golden retriever experience with said person. rather, the exchanges of you know what, with this boy or girl was, more importantly, a lapse in one's consciousness. i mean, it's only expected as alcohol was involved, right? it wasn't me! because i got high. oh, popular culture and your excuses. really though, hookups, more often than not, really just equate to the involved parties just wanting to feel something pleasant, even if it is quite possibly the definition of fey. in the case of all too often sloppy hookup, that's essentially the quintessence of someone trying run away from his or her problems by means of animalistic tendencies. i mean, i by no means am maligning sex. while i'm down with declining population growth in developed nations, i do think that there should be some redemption for the horrible zitty teenage years that we all had to endure. however, think back to the past hookups that you've had. personally, i've had none because, maybe i'm the one at fault, but i haven't been able to let my guard down before. going through all of your previous hookups, think of how many of them were fruitful past that night or that period of time. how do you interact with those casualties now? if it's all kosher and smiles, then, i've got nothing on you, i guess. but, if there's even the eensiest ounce of weirdness between you and some of those previous hookups, then that's a surefire indicator that the hookup was a bodily tendency instead of a thoughtfully planned out procedure, but, you probably didn't need me to tell you that. all i have to say about those carnal urges is that, well, the instant that we decide to go for it, we put our consciousness about external factors on the backburners. the issue is no longer about, i wonder how this or that person feels about me or if he or she likes my outfit. it's not about being incredibly considerate to the other person because you want him or her to really like you after the interaction. rather, it becomes a game of all or nothing.
in my mind, i see random hookups which run rampant on campus as comparable to meat eating. for some, meat eating is totally integral to existence. and, as was said in my chinese philosophy class, that meat eater doesn't want to hear some preachy vegetarian talk about the sickening conditions that those animals have to live in and the disgustingly inhumane ways that they're slaughtered or the huge amounts of greenhouse gases that are released due to meat eating. instead, the meat eater pushes all of those valid points to the back of his or her mind, with (to exaggerate, i'll pick the worst possible) McDonald's burger or Panda Express's orange chicken in hand. and, well, as i say about myself (although not about meat eating), i'm no fighter. so i guess i can understand. people just don't want to think about unpleasant things. so, that translates to worthless hookups that may devastate one of the parties in the case of a stroke of misfortune pregnancy or, less dramatic, false expectations by one party, which only bears the less visible after effect of a wounded heart. i mean, sure, it's all fun and in the moment, and, uhhh, carpe diem, right? well, i don't know. when it means putting other people's affections in jeopardy, i can't be so gun ho about it. i just can't. i mean, okay, sure, there's the possibility that a hookup is entirely mutual. nobody's hurt emotionally or left 20 pounds heavier. but, that probably happens less often than one would think. perhaps i'm just writing this because i can't get into the ebb and flow of the hookup culture, which is prevalent in a good deal of colleges. who knows. but, i guess i just hope that the next time the apetite for tactile stimulation presses its heavy hand on your shoulder, that you think things through, thoroughly, if not just once, instead of acting with the abandon that possible previous oppression or sexual repression may instigate.