eing a Swarthmore student isn't easy. We all know that. But why? Is it the workload? the principles of responsibility with which we are all endowed? perhaps the community spirit that Swarthmore instills in us? I vehemently reject all of these as the source of our collective angst. Rather, I say, the pain of a Swarthmore education results directly from an anachronistic, perhaps even medieval, moral condemnation of the act of skipping class. Are we not in the age of tolerance? Love thy neighbor, I say! Be ye not biased by his indolent tendencies -- embrace the slacker you've too long repressed! I feel compelled to come to the aid of the most recently oppressed minority at Swat, the chronically lethargic -- a group of which I consider myself an alpha male, a distinction earned by continual, intensive bouts of physical and mental sloth -- and I seek to demonstrate that the barbaric condemnation of truancy is flawed on several grounds. Therefore I present this simple guide to defending yourself from the both the studious and the sanctimonious alike.

If you're reading this article in your spare time, you are missing the point. Save this article to read when you should be in class. There are four premises commonly used in arguments against cutting class. In the grand tradition of Aquinas (whom I think I should have studied, though I may have missed that class), I first present the arguments against skipping (thesis), then follow them with a few good Snappy Comebacks that are always applicable (antithesis). The synthesis, a slacker's creed, should be self-evident by the end.
Without further ado (a phrase which, incidentally, along with "much ado," is perhaps the only usage of the word "ado" in the English language -- one nears hears "some ado," or "just a wee bit of ado"), here we go:


(the perennial Swarthmore favorite, usually accompanied by quotes explaining how you're losing anywhere from $25 to $5000 for every hour of class you skip)

Snappy Comeback No. 1: "I don't pay that money -- my parents do!" Pretty obvious; no analysis needed here. You'll probably get this reply: "Don't you feel like you owe your parents something for the money they're spending?" The correct response: "I didn't choose to be born! They owe me!" It's very easy to form a moral obligation from parent to child, but have you ever tried doing the reverse? It's difficult. You've won this argument.
Snappy Comeback No. 2: "Ever hear of Economics, big guy? They have this interesting concept called sunk costs..." If you're not an econ major, here's a short explanation of sunk costs (bear in mind that this is coming from someone who is an econ major mostly because of happenstance and an unnatural affection for Mark Kuperberg). If you have spent money and it's not recoverable, you can never regain it, so you shouldn't consider it in an analysis. For instance, if you build half of a house and it costs you $50,000, you shouldn't consider the $50,000 that has already been spent when you decide whether to spend another $30,000 on the house. No matter what you do, that $50,000 is spent and you're not getting it back, so forget about it. Therefore, if you spent your tuition to enroll in school this semester, that money is spent. Whether or not you go to class, you're not getting that money back, so it shouldn't even be a consideration. This comeback works best if accompanied by a sneer and an obvious disdain for the uneducated masses -- what kind of peon doesn't understand sunk costs? Duh.
Snappy Comeback No. 3: "I paid money for the environment and the people, not the education!" If the naysayer continues to argue, accuse him or her of being antisocial and unable to enjoy thebetter things in life. As long as the time you weould have spent in class is spent on Swarthmore's campus, your money is still well spent. You can't get the most from Swarthmore's richly endowed social environment (ooh, that sarcastic tone) if you spend all your time in class!


(the favorite of teachers)

Snappy Comeback No. 1: "Think opportunity costs: there are so many opportunities in life that aren't related to school." The only people who tell you that you're cheating yourself are those who have spent their entire lives (a) being responsible or (b) completely ensconced in academia -- people who have no idea what anyone would do if not in class. In other words, boring people. I wrote a big list of things suitable to do instead of attending class, but if Spike had included it, there would have been no room in the magazine for anyone else.
Snappy Comeback No. 2: "Education imparts knowledge, but life imbues wisdom." Put on your best Socrates face to display an obvious knowledge of the essential profundity of life while delivering this line, and there's not much the other guy can do; you're searching for the deeper truths while he's wasting time watching some amoeba whose social behavior is about as exciting as that of a Swattie crawling around a petri dish. But keep in mind that this line is an utter and absolute failure if you skip in order to do work for some other class (which in my book gets you a one-way ticket straight to hell).
Snappy Comeback No. 3: "So what?" Variations on this one include "bite me," "so's yer mama," and "get a life."



(something we're all very concerned about)

Snappy Comeback No. 1: "There is no grade for class participation in this class!" Unless the syllabus specifically allows for class participation, the professor has no grounds to feel insulted by your absence. He or she implicitly told you this by not grading on class participation; there was a clear and direct message that class attendance was your own prerogative.
Snappy Comeback No. 2: "I haven't seen a prof at a party yet this year!" Remember, social obligations (and yes, class is indeed a social obligation) are reciprocal. If he won't come to your parties, you don't have to go to his classes.


(I think you can guess what's coming...)

The only conceivable response: assume a befuddled look and stare at a distant object. Ponder for a while before expressing your amazement at having never before considered the notion that classes contain anything important. Promise to ruminate extensively on the subject for the rest of the time you should be in class. Keep in mind that anyone who brings up this sort of argumentation is approaching the subject from a completely different philosophical base than years. We're basically talking Creationism vs. Evolution here: neither one of you will be able to make sense to the other. Don't waste your time on this putz. Go have fun on Parrish Beach.

That should about cover most of the questions you'll hear. It's tough to become a professional slacker, but if you start now you ought to be pretty good at it by the end of the year. Just remember, you could have gone to a big, easy school -- Harvard, for instance -- where few people notice that you skip class, especially not the professor, and fewer people care. And for God's sake, do interesting things when you skip, not other school work!
Subscribe to this strict regimen of hooky, and I guarantee your life will improve. Think of what you're missing by being in class so many long hours, every week. For many of us, college is our first real taste of independent, responsibility-free life. With that kind of opportunity, do you want to spend all your time in a classroom?
When you experience the true nirvana of slackerhood, you'll suddenly become healthier, happier, and infinitely more attractive to the opposite sex. When that happens, skip a class and come by my room to thank me, especially if you are of the opposite sex. Anytime I have class is a good time to visit.
In our next issue: Ten ways to improve your final average in any class while simultaneously reducing your workload and spending all your time absorbed in computer games.
And a final note: Please don't tell my parents that I wrote this article.

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