Dear Chancellor Collins:
Over the break, I considered possible improvements to the school. Immediately I realized that UMass Boston lacks a fight song. We need one, of course, to foment woe and loathing among our conquered; to tell other schools whom, exactly, the boss is. Let’s face it, though- a lot of times, they will be the boss. UMass-Boston is still a relatively new school, and we’ve got our problems. Nonetheless, the need to encapsulate our essence is clear. Thus have I scribed a battle hymn, to reflect our School Spirit:
In an annexed suburb of a City on a Hill,There exists a Hall of Learning dropped on a landfill-Er, “Perched atop Dorchester Bay,” where we do, be, and thinkInebriated students drive their cars into the drink!
Oh, UMB, to thee I vowNot to drop or transfer outUnless someone cuts me a sweetheart deal;UMB, I know not howAnyone could ever doubtThat laptops were made to steal!
The roof of Phyllis Wheatley’s building suddenly imploded,The substructure’s integrity has rapidly eroded.Behold our Science Building, an experiment from Hell(Or H.G. Welles); but in excelsis Deo,And amo, amas, amat!It’s UMB!For you and me!And perhaps a dozen water rats.
In addition to propelling our sports teams to ultimate victory with this bracing new anthem, we should be equally demonstrative in suffering defeat. In addition to cheerleaders, then, I would have a chorus of mourners, rending their hair and gnashing their teeth at the ignominy of it all. They will be called the UMB Brides of Agony. Their symbol will be a weeping widow pining at the pier in vain anticipation of a ship never to be bathed in the home-harkening light of the UMB Beacon.
Other additions pertain to the calendar. I suggest radical, “now,” “buzz” holidays in order to “conceptualize” and impress others with our proactivity. For instance:
Bee Day: In which a giant biodome containing thousands of Africanized killer bees will be dropped from an airplane 30,000 miles above campus. When it drops, the dome will split open and the bees will run the school for that day. It’s just the right thing to do. Don’t ask why.
Julia R. Warwick Day: On April 2nd, 1945, mental patient Julia R. Warwick died in New York’s Bellevue Asylum. We’re going to remember her. No reason, we’re just going to do it. Poor lady.
Holiday Day: Holidays are the most special time of year. Celebrate holidays by celebrating a holiday about holidays, because that’s what celebration’s about: holidays. Celebrated during the most special time of year: all year ’round.
Other ideas include privatizing the parking lot and partitioning it into booth areas for carnival attendants and associated grifters. An inner circle will be set aside and christened “The Terror Jungle,” where the feeding of gunpowder to Pit Bulls will be mandatory. Trouble will be settled with fire. People will call it “hellish,” but you needn’t heed the P.C. whiners, with all their talk of “human rights” and such kerfuffle: the income generated from the Man vs. Pit Bull death matches alone should bolster our school’s endowment considerably.
There you have it. Now, ordinarily, these “What I would do if…” columns, addressed by the well-intentioned to this or that political dignitary or corporate captain, end with a more-or-less persuasive defense of the propositions advanced. I, however, convinced of the horse-sensical perspicacity of my ideas, am saying not, “Chancellor Collins and all concerned; please consider these propositions”, but “Chancellor Collins and all concerned; I order you to enact these propositions! NOW!”
I FORCE YOU!
Seriously, Dan R.