Presidential

There are some people who take pride in their appearance -- those people that always look perfectly put-together, never have a bad hair day, and are constantly taking irritatingly attractive pictures. Prominent examples include celebrities, politicians, and celebrity politicians. I of course am not one of these people; you will most often spot me in my natural state, workout attire. (Gym clothes are a sneakily effective way of fooling people into thinking you’re athletic and motivated, when in reality you’re just too lazy to put on pants that require a zipper. This is a strategy I employ far too often.) In the light of our recent TCU election, it occurred to me that my affinity for leggings and neon sneakers probably precludes me from ever running for office -- which is a shame, as I think I would make quite the candidate. In fact, allow me to convince you right now.

But, hey, what’s a political campaign without promises you can’t keep? If I were Tufts president, my first action would be to abolish all classes beginning before 10 a.m., because that’s just inhumane. I would also prohibit classes on Fridays because that’s an equally cruel and usual punishment. Although I would very much like to impose a blanket ban on all lab classes, I recognize that these labs provide practical experience for many majors, like chemistry or physics (see, I can even talk like a politician when I need to!). Since misery loves company, however, I decree that everyone should have to suffer as I did -- now all majors will be required to take at least a year of labs. Want to major in American studies? Great, just make sure you register for orgo!

And since every effort to accurately track or improve the reliability of the Joey has failed thus far, I would instead take action to install gambling centers at every Joey stop, where you can make an over/under bet on how late the next bus will be. This will teach valuable risk analysis skills to students in all courses of study, although my econ major buddies will definitely have the advantage. Late for your interview in Boston? No biggie; you’ve just won the biggest pot of the semester because the Joey never came!

Most importantly, I would demand that the administration support the installation of a Dunks in each and every academic building. Let’s be real; there’s never a time where every classroom in Eaton is being used, and this would improve productivity tenfold. (It’s also a magical ability of Dunkin' Donuts to sustain a seemingly unlimited number of adjoining shops with no decrease in profitability --  just take a walk down any street in the Tristate area for proof.) Since I do care about the environment, however, everyone would of course be using reusable iced coffee tumblers that they can refill every three hours.

In conclusion, my final action would be to restructure the distribution requirements so that everyone graduates with at least a semblance of a clue of how to survive in this dog-eat-CleverDog kind of world. Required classes would include Manipulation 101, Tax Evasion, and Introduction to Commuting.

So, you see, I would make quite the admirable candidate after all, even though I don’t own one set of pearls. Maybe it’s time for Tufts -- and America -- to step away from its traditional image of the perfect presidential candidate. Maybe it’s time for us to push forward into a better tomorrow, to work together to --

Nope, sorry, can’t even spout that crap for a whole paragraph. To be honest, this is my thinly veiled totalitarian takeover, but at least you can say you voted for the winning dictator! #lex2016