Oh no. Oh please no. We are one short week away from Stop Day. Where has the time gone? There was hope in October, and here we are. You may feel lost; utterly void of all ambition. Behold: the inferno. Everyone is carefully placed in each layer depending on their sins they did not repent. Here is the inferno as Dante would have described it for finals week at KU.
Here is the level where we are all present around Stop Day eve. We are done with the semester except for one last test over whatever we were supposed to learn this semester, and it’s time to celebrate with friends (and vodka). Limbo isn’t ideal. Obviously. Drink up, and when you think you’ve had plenty, drink more vodka. All the vodka. Ever.
Next stop is where we all assumed we might end up as a result of Stop Day eve. Maybe we didn’t assume, but at least some of us got some, right? Anyway, now we are in the ring called Lust. Whether we had a one night stand, or maybe just played tonsil hockey with a few too many 4.5s (not talking GPA) in the Boom Boom Room, we don’t feel awesome about. But the whimsy of this weekend in anticipation of exams is still in full thrust (pun intended).
After three nights in a row of binge drinking, it’s only appropriate and fair that we sink down to the third level, Gluttony. Whether it’s because of the shotskis that frat dude bought for your friend group or the multitude of full pizzas from the Wheel consumed singlehandedly, one after the other after the other, Dante has rightfully placed us one ring deeper in his inferno.
The weekend has finally passed, and it’s Sunday. Time to buckle the fuck down. Head over to Anschutz for one of the last few hoo-rahs, studying nine hours straight in the library. Unfortunately, we get no free pass at the library from Dante, as our selfishness manifests: choosing one large table and spreading all our belongings across it; or stealing some loser’s wallet when they ask you to watch their stuff while they go to the bathroom. These actions sink us lower, down to the fourth ring, Greed.
What isn’t there to be angry about this time of year, honestly? Yeah, we are about to go home for the holidays but we still gotta take these dumpy fucking unnecessary piece of shit finals that are only provided so professors can laugh as they mark down our grade and tank our GPA. Good riddance to the fourth ring! Bring on Anger! See if we give a shit!
In this case, heresy applies to not what we say, but what we do. As a distraction from studying for literally every waking moment, we might take a little jaunt through the Campanile. At least then studying is not essential, since you won’t graduate anyway! Other heretic tendencies include not showering for, like, seven days straight which will also probably be a problem during finals week. Oh well.
As we approach the seventh ring, the manifestation of violence shows itself in many ways. Irritability with dear friends, uncontrollable anxious vomiting. As we tumble deeper into the pits of hell, the fire grows in us all to lash out. You could get your aggression out through something like exercising, but you might also consider setting Fraser on fire again, since it’s apparently super flammable. Any literal hot spots you have in mind will work. Just make sure you bring a lot of gasoline and matches.
At this point, who is even paying attention to KU’s Academic Dishonesty policy? With a standing ovation at the entrance of the eighth ring, peak at as many PDFs and PowerPoints you can until you feel completely prepared for your exams. What’s stopping you from just flat out plagiarizing the entirety of your classmate’s assignment? Listen, if the First Lady of the United States can do it, so you can too.
Treachery is essentially a betrayal of trust. By Friday of finals week, morals, to quote Sugar Ray, have gone out the window. Instead of stealing answers from online, you’ve been stealing from your friends, and telling your professors the opposite to get into their good graces. You’ve hacked into BlackBoard to change all your grades. Point is, you belong in the depths of Hell.
We will get through this finals week yet. We’d say happy holidays, but instead we’ll say “go fuck yourself” because you’re a spawn of Satan. Have fun in Hell!