By Justin Moore
I am going on a hunger strike. I’m fed up with being dumped on by the administrative storm clouds and trusting our S.G.A. brand umbrellas to defend us. It’s time somebody rose above all that and stood up for the students.
In the fall semester of 2009, the University of Louisville will be instituting a mandatory meal plan for all of the students. That means not only for residents living in traditional housing but even those that commute to school.
That’s right, all 80 percent of you will have to buy a meal plan to eat at a place that you spend the least amount of your day.
How much?
$250. That’s $250 you could be spending at Horseshoe Casino, or frittering away on any number of other money burning activities. Including money burning. ‘Ok, Justin, what if I give them the $250, and don’t spend it?’ Well, Mr., Ms., or Mrs. Common-everyday Student, they keep it. So either way, they’re getting their $250.
That is not fair. I’m not standing for it, and neither should anybody else. The admins are telling us where we can spend our money. I don’t dig on extortion. I would rather starve than eat where they tell me I can. I figure if I start starving now, they’ll change it before the leaves turn. So, I’m going on a hunger strike. It will last 7 days. This is day one:
Day 1: Mon., Jan. 12
My strike has begun. I’m hungry, but I’ve been hungrier before. I keep having this weird third person view of myself. With my long hair and torn jeans, a modern update to the heroes of the civil rights movements. That makes me laugh, am I really that pretentious? Anyway, it’s not so bad yet, doesn’t really feel like that much of a sacrifice.
Day 2: Tues., Jan.13
I’m really &@#$ hungry. It’s late in the day, 5 or 6 p.m.
Want to know how to torture someone with a feral tummy? My hunger strike just started, so everybody that I talk to asks me what’s up, so I tell them I’m on the strike. Usually the next thing out of their mouth is asking why I’m doing this, but more often than not it’s something about food. Like, “Oh man, I can’t cook thick steaks on my Forman grill.” Then the entire conversation is about food. No joke. Every single person, every single hour of today.
I want a sandwich.
Day 3: Wed., Jan. 14
So really weird. I’m hungry, but my stomach has tamed itself. It still hurts a bit, but it’s easy to ignore. My mind is really clear today and it is really easy to come up with anything creative. I touch my guitar, I’ve got a song. I pick up a pen I’ve got a poem. It’s like a door to some white-hole that spews out creativity instead of matter has been kicked down in front of my forehead. I can dig on this; it’s a good vibe to have.
Day 4: Thurs., Jan. 15
I guess its true what they say, it’s always calmest before the storm. I’ve never been this hungry in my life, a testament to how much care my parents take of me I suppose. I’m not getting much sleep, and all of my dreams are really crazy Yellow Submarine trips. A lot of people don’t know this about me, but over the summer I lifeguard at Six Flags. It’s a good way to stay in shape, and a pretty easy job.
So, I had this dream, I was in my uniform, it was summer, I was outside of this huge mansion in an even bigger side-lawn. A bunch of my lifeguard buddies are around me, all dressed to match me of course. We come up with this fun idea to run a Mario-Kart type course around the lawn, into the house, out the back door into the back yard, back to the side yard. The mansion was really expensive looking and full of old relics and oak furniture.
So we started this race, all having the best times of our lives, I was winning. All of a sudden, I started to float. I didn’t quite float off; my feet just couldn’t reach the ground. So I couldn’t run anymore.
Ah hah! But I could still move by pulling myself along the walls. So that’s how I started going around the track. There was no friction so to stop I had to grab a wall, but it was a lot of fun. Then I woke up.
No, really.
Oh, and at this point, I’d probably rip a mans arms off for a bacon-cheese chalupa.
I hope that darkest before dawn pans out this well.
