My Apathy

Or, why having terms is bad.

Consider Bush; Somalia; 1991. No wonder Obama's keeping a close watch on W's lame duck policies--who would want to be stuck with an absurd fiasco resulting from short-term placations?

But perhaps it's worse when there's a generational transition every four years--say, a high school or college; by fourth year, what's the point in caring what happens to the school/campus? And why should I bother trying to make friends with the irritating, shellshocked first years when the routine's worn thin after three years of watching successive classes figure out something that was glaringly obvious by spring quarter of first year?

In short, I don't care about the college experience any more. I have to have a career and so I'll work hard; and I do enjoy my extracurriculars and the friends I already have--but my interest in altering the status quo is dead like the freshman who was dazzled by the potential for change here.

The problem is a pretty generic one: once the ties loosen and fray, there's no reason to prolong. Better to make a quick snip, stop caring in one go. So much changes in just three years that the campus is no longer the place it was when we came--there's been a move to normalize the student body, and it's working. In general the new and shiny and bland is being embraced at cost of the character of Gothic architecture--but we're no longer in the majority and, because we won't be around to live through the change, our voices, our opinions matter less.

Above all, why should I, or any of us who are graduating, care again? Any improvements now, new friends or new activities or--I don't know what; can't move off-campus at this point--are ephemeral, just like my love of being here.