May 14, 2015 (vol. 121, iss. 136) • Page Image 5
…D ear Pamphleteers, Oh, how I used to hate your guts. The way you owned the bricks of the Diag. Intercepting me at every conceivable pathway through the heart of my campus…
… ravage the Diag garbage cans in the middle of the night. They would find thousands of your papers that were perpetually demanding things of me. They would see all of the paper you’ve wasted that…
… class. She was ask- ing fellow pamphleteers, fellow students and simple passersby how they felt about the Squirrel Watching Club on campus. She asked me. I knew it would be too easy to criticize her…
… and her survey. Look at her. She’s probably a freshman. Cute, young, innocent. Out here in the world, this big world, this tiny Diag, collecting opinions like acorns, storing all of the crucial…
… data in her pantry of a three-sub- ject notebook. I did it anyways. I said, “I think everyone in that club needs to get a job.” I said, “Including the squirrels! I mean who do they think they are…
… job at the time. I didn’t get one until like yester- day. Who was I to say any of that? But even if I did have a job, that’s so stupid. What a terrible thing to say. The Diag is the domain for life…