TO THOSE WHO WAIT
     By J. Wilder Konschak
     
     I started this semester with the modest proposal that, if I were to set my 
expectations low enough, then I might find pleasure in the horse hockey I 
actually got. Now, having gathered the data from that experiment, I end this 
semester with a simple turn of phrase. "If you don't expect much, then it's sure 
to follow, nothing much will happen."
     If it weren't for the X's on my calendar, I'd have no way of knowing that 
months have passed: this moment could easily be some time last summer. Nothing 
has changed. I didn't win what I knew I wouldn't win (and not for lack of 
trying); I didn't lose what I knew I wouldn't lose (and not for lack of fucking 
up). The daily life of a sea turtle enjoys more intrigue and drama.
     Such a simple, rational plan - it should have worked! Such splendidly low 
expectations - so carefully set! The most ambitious vow I made was to keep my 
underwear clean, and, by kracky, I did it! Admittedly, I did it by not wearing 
them, but -woe is me! - that thrill's the only thrill I've had all year! (except 
when I found the Christ Child in a packet of Ramen, and won $3000 dollars 
reward...)
     All this patience, compassion, and planning, all this "nice-guy" brouhaha, 
all the spoils of a wasted life, all of this, for who? For what? Huh? Sense? 
Reason? Kindness? What pink-puffs-n-bubbles of purple-smoke-n-foam! What comical 
chimeras conjured by Kyrie the Insufficient Compensation Dragon! What a 
truckload of dirty diapers! What conclusion, what alternate course of action, 
could possibly be drawn from this? 
     Well, I think Prince put it best when he mused, "If the elevator tries to 
bring you down ... Go Crazy!" So, that's what I'm going to do, because god 
knows-it's more likely to fill my days with adventure, emotion, and thrill than 
my humble plans and careful compassion! 
     In short, here's my ultimate outline. I hope you'll play along with the 
home game. 
     
     1) Relationships: The quickest way into a woman's heart, and smoothly into 
a woman's pants, is unquestionable and clear: the quickest way to a woman's 
soul-is witchcraft. Using spells perfected by the Gypsies and Druids, I'll flood 
my life with the light of reckless love, and my bed with the warmth of blazing 
passion. I shall also endeavor to make my eyes glow bright neon green, because 
that'd be real rad.
     2) Social Life: I will fill a hat with the names of all the nations of the 
world. Whosoever I draw from that hat will be enslaved - by the shear force of 
my will. Which means, I'll sit at home going, "I WISH THE IRISH WOULD BE MY 
SLAVES!" until they spontaneously give in. 
     3) Academics: I will dedicate my life to teaching the immortal plays of 
Shakespeare to the trees. If, having learned their parts, they refuse to perform 
for my slaves and I, they will be slashed and burned, one and all. Also, on the 
side, I'll obtain everlasting life through the practice of perfect celibacy, 
except under the full moon, occasional oral sex, and of course, booty with girls 
whose names begin with consonants and end in vowels. 
     4) Home: Anyone entering my room, including myself, will be required to 
remove his or her shirt. Also, I will rig a large bong apparatus to my heater, 
which will keep the pot content of the air at approximately a thousand parts per 
million. That should improve the mood.
     5) Overview: In summation, I shall relentlessly and optimistically hurl 
myself headlong into madness, believing without any doubt in the most impossible 
dreams, regardless of how flatly I am denied them. I will live by hope alone, 
filling my days with madness until my just-deserts deliver - believing always 
that all things come to those who wait, and anything worth keeping is worth 
waiting for. Just look at Inigo Montoya! He waited 20 years to kill the 6-
fingered man! If you can't be inspired by the indomitable optimism of The 
Princess Bride, well then ...  I shit a turd in your hat and put it upon your 
head.
     
     However, if after a year of this plan, I look back and see my life's still 
been a frustrating bore; if next year sucks like this one, then I'm going to 
start murdering people. And I'm going to start with Keely. I'll do it by 
summoning an incubus to suffocate her in her tormented sleep.
     Because WHY NOT?