"I’m an adult!”
If you haven’t already seen Miley Cyrus’s performance at the VMAs last week, consider yourself lucky. For those who have, rest easily knowing that you were blessed to witness the on-stage deflowering of our favorite little Disney star to Robin Thicke. In an effort to finally free herself of her teen pop icon past, Miley Cyrus overcompensated at the VMA’s more than Napoleon did in Europe. It’s okay little guy, you conquered A LOT of land. We know you’re huge.
Nothing screams maturity like pursuing every avenue to horrify your parents. What more does Billy Ray want to see than his little snowflake grinding, twerking and air humping a foam finger on stage to her heart’s content?
But it’s okay, people, because look how grown up she is! With the same angst of Andy Samberg as he screams “I’m an adult!” in “Threw it on the Ground,” Miley Cyrus has managed to shake the shackles off childhood, lose the lip gloss and push up bras and venture into the world of womanhood. She flaunts her curves and takes the stage with purpose while being an icon for women’s rights.
Miley Cyrus’s use of that foam finger was a step forward for feminists everywhere. Miley’s phallic foam member was over 12 inches long and demonstrated to the world that she could roll with us big boys. Furthermore, her “ethnic” dancing (a move known by the blacks as “twerking”) serves as a shining example of her maturity and cultural awareness. I have never before seen such a masterfully crafted examination of the intersectionality of oppression, amalgamating both racial and women’s empowerment; it really is the best of both worlds.
While Miley is busy permanently scarring the Smith family and all of televised America, we have the very same maturing process occurring in front of judgmental online newspapers here at our dear and beloved University. No longer wanting to be part of the small, rambunctious, white-privileged basketball school which thrived in budding alcoholism, laughing at minorities and an overall sense of being better than you, administrators decided it was time for Duke to grow up.
The first winning blow for our improved image is the utter destruction of Tailgate as we know it. Tailgate was a bane to student academia and overall quality of education. Rather than spend a day tailgating for our beloved football team like any other university, we now have the entire day to do all the suggested class readings and practice problems we can dream of. What’s even better is that for once we remember the football games! Whereas before we would drink until we didn’t notice how severely we were losing, we now don’t have to drink, because no one knows there is a football game at all. For those (approximately eight) students that do watch Duke football games, they can post-game solemnly and soberly, reflecting upon the values of good sportsmanship and attempting to come to terms with Duke having the greatest talent disparity between basketball and football on this side of the Mississippi.
In the name of looking better, Duke has also decided to spend appropriate sums of money on areas of campus in need. While Epworth continues to sink into its dilapidated ruins, its residents can rest easy knowing that already-functional Gilbert-Addoms just received a seven million dollar renovation and that their dorm is mostly free of asbestos. G.A.’s new glass walls, four 100-inch flat screen televisions and granite counter tops are now perfect to impress interested freshmen. Show them G.A. and then send them to live in a jail cell in Randolph. Classic bait-and-switch.
As it became evident 20 years ago that West Campus residential areas such as Craven and Crowell were in need of renovations, Duke had the foresight to forego them and spend $80 million on updating the West Union and installing a massive, glass lunchbox adjacent to the plaza which is guaranteed to kill at least five birds a day. The most impressive feature of this new dining area is that it manages to be worse than The Great Hall while also more expensive. The new Events Pavilion is a striking piece of architecture on Duke’s campus, receiving reviews from Duke students such as “Why?” and “We spent money on that?” These beautiful and completely practical transformations to West Campus have not only removed dining options such as Subway, Armadillo Grill and Chick-fil-A, but also managed to install no new options besides Red Mango, an over-priced watering hole for sorostitutes to feed an eating disorder and enable themselves to believe that froyo is a food group. This radical change to our dining plan will strategically wipe out the fatties on campus, further beautifying the campus environment for us all.
While, before, Duke University was a fledging party school with no serious academics or adequate living space, now it is a shining beacon of fiscal responsibility and appropriate spirit-rallying for football games. So throw on your devil horns, get a mediocre and over-priced meal at the Pavilion and trudge on to the big game you’ll regrettably be sober enough to remember.
Mean Boy is still bitter about his inability to wall twerk and is currently accepting applications for female tutors.