How Does it Feel?

Ingredients:

1. Southern Comfort
2. Liberal Tears

As you might remember from your meticulous notes in Govt 6 that rival the length of the original text, the unexamined life is not worth living. So as you pour one out in quiet contemplation, sitting in your childhood bedroom in Westchester or Riverdale or the Upper West Side, I only have one question for you: how does it feel? 

How does it feel to have waited 90 minutes after Pub Pol 5 so you could shake hands with the Professor and compliment his lecture—the apathy on his face tragically apparent? How does it feel to have woken up early and gone to every office hour just to waste 1/35th of your college experience on the equivalent AP statistics? How did it feel to read the email that your First-Year fellow’s internship has now been moved to Zoom? 

As much as you wanted it to be like Sorkin’s West Wing, to get to this place, you’ve acted a lot more life Kevin Spacy in House of Cards. Think about the dignity you sacrificed, trying to raise your 89, getting on your knees “to beg.” Drink. Think about all the nepotism wasted grooming you for this path; your resume littered with internships because the Congressman owed a favor to your parents. Drink. Think about having cut your friends down at their ankles and pissing on their term paper to establish dominance—the self-loathing in it all transparent. Drink.   

Enjoy the Zoomtership. Drink. 

— The Nietzschean Camel