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caitlin moore - an essay on the noble science of collegiate alcoholism lyrics

an essay on the n0ble science of collegiate alcoholism
caitlin moore

“beer is proof that god loves us
and wants us to be happy.”
— benjamin franklin

endowed, as the collegiate race indisputably is, with a natural propensity toward excess, it should come as a delightful affirmation to such individuals to see its perfection and continued justification in the practice of social imbibing. in an earnest attempt to perpetuate the purportedly age-old custom of intensive and incessant collegiate binge drinking, a staple of one’s scholastic career, young scholars may be pleased to benefit from a scientific deduction of the art of closeted alcoholism so as to become most efficient and unhindered in the pursuit of eternal inebriation

eager disciple, you must first earnestly promise to bear constantly in mind the most central tenet of our cause— that, technically, it is not “alcoholism” until you graduate

fundamentally tautological as this aphorism seems, its ardent young adherents in today’s society are regrettably faced with the occasional misled dissenter and detractor. it is for this reason i have devoted myself to the scientific indoctrination that will supply all youthful worshipers of bacchus with the necessary artillery to both categorically refute accusations of addiction and continue to champion the idolized pursuit of debilitating hangovers

pardon my -ssumption that there may still exist among my audience some less well-versed in the art of inordinate youthful intoxication. it is to those i address myself so as to ensure you are well on your way to liver failure by the time you accede to the legal drinking age

i must first begin by further explicating my central principle, that one cannot be an alcoholic until he or she graduates. this, of course, is -ssuredly false, however in order to maintain the carefree collegiate facade and capitalize on all opportunities to indulge in the ubiquitous definition of early-adulthood “fun,” we must carefully and meticulously stay true to the aforementioned axiom. as long as one successfully evades conviction as such a dependent, the goal of maintaining an otherworldly level of consistent inebriation proves far more attainable

underaged pupils, you have thus far been addressed as angelic milk-drinkers; prepare to be deemed delinquent lushes. ready yourselves to fire back at parental and public concern for your wellbeing and, above all, do not let such supposedly well-intended intervention alter your masterfully honed habits

upon your n0ble crusade towards ultimate dipsomania, you must first commit wholly and selflessly to the cause. carefully and empirically calculate that, if reasonable estimations predict the average person will achieve intoxication after four shots, you must err on the side of caution and take ten. my eager apprentice, you must ardently apply yourself to the age-old school of logic that purports the high probability of alcoholic scarcity and potential for ultimate drought at any given moment. following this proven line of thinking, conscientious to give no heed to any opposing reason or surrounding naysayers, brazenly imbibe any and all spirits in your immediate vicinity

“could there possibly exist such a thing as too much?” no; once having committed to your honorable vocation, the potential necessity to eject from your body the very spirits imperative for the hedonism vital to your social ascendency is of little concern when juxtaposed against the horrifying possibility of maintaining even an infinitesimal modic-m of sobriety. after all, once one concedes to even the hypothetical existence of an upper limit, the poor soul will have shattered the veneer of collegiate invincibility carefully honed and maintained by the work of millions of neophytes before us, certainly when weighed in a utilitarian manner a worthy cause for acceptance of the occasional calling to pray to the almighty porcelain god

lest you reach a level of intoxication hinting of unpleasantry, be thus forewarned. as you rise from your chair and seem to have suddenly been teleported into a spinning teacup in disney world, having lost any trace of ambulatory ability and proceeding to topple to the underpopulated ground in the venerable rhino bar and pumphouse on a tuesday evening, bear two things in mind: you are not drunk, the floor is very likely unsound; and, above all, this n0ble apogee of diversion was, of course, the sole driving force behind your decision to pursue higher education

do not, however, let this reaffirmation lead you to the misguided pondering of whether or not you have so diminished your mental capacity that you would not at this point be able to achieve such scholarly excellence as that which led you to your current esteemed academic inst-tution, as the crux of such reasoning is grounded in the false and foolish -ssumption that the college experience should be fundamentally academic

as previously forecasted, one will undoubtedly encounter naysayers along the n0ble journey: perhaps in the form of an inconsequential minority of naive, uninformed, and far less socially adept friends attempting to stage a supposedly well-intended intervention after witnessing you innocently douse your cheerios with tequila to cure the irksome morning-after alcohol withdrawals. plat-tudinous idiots! let this unfounded -ssault on the central axiom of lyceum lifestyle and the buzz beginning to emanate from your holistic, hair of the dog remedy propel you into an awe-inspiringly charismatic homily preaching carpe diem and a declamation of the fleeting nature of precious youth. prudently utilize slightly inflated or, if necessary, completely falsified statistics in order to expose your behavior as that of the vast majority, and let the psychological phenomenon of “groupthink” put all further opposition to rest. it is in my own extensive experience that by the end of your oration, once having shook such poor souls to enlightenment of their fast-approaching mortality (or, worse, matrimony!), nearly 9 in 10 will have poured themselves mimosas and forgotten their reason for gathering entirely

nothing provokes a concerned parent more than the observation of his or her offspring seeming to exhibit slight jaundice and tremors; if a parent seems to have come upon a sound argument from health, calmly and categorically diffuse the situation. who is there amongst the collegiate population who does not indulge in the occasional libation? naive geriatric! evade at all costs the diagnosis of any dependencies by composedly and patronizingly explicating the simple misunderstanding of collegiate social culture resulting from the vast, eternally disparate nature of the generational chiasmus over a bottle or two of wine

dignified peers, i leave you with the most ardent confidence that you will continue the crusade for the perpetuation of our most meritorious communal cause. long may you prosper in the practice of an art peculiar to your age and socioeconomic standing! long may you maintain unrivaled and exorbitant expenditures in rathskellers at home and abroad; and ’til death may your relations rue the day they believed your -ssertion that “this is what all college kids do”!

- caitlin moore lyrics

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