flUniversity of Delaware

Post by Joe

In case you’ve been living in a cave in the Canadian Rockies the last few days, and thus not watching the news, allow me to catch you up*: Don’t panic, but Influenza A, sub-strain H1N1, commonly known as Swine Flue, will almost certainly be the end of all of humanity (which really sucks, because I had a lot of money riding  on 2004 MN4.)

*Ironically, if you have been watching the news, by now you have probably retreated to a cave in the Canadian Rockies.

Across the globe, countries, states, and local organizations are taking precautions to prevent the spread of this mysterious disease, from restricting travel, to canceling events, to needlessly slaughtering thousands of pigs.  The efforts of one organization, however, I believe deserve special mention.  That organization is my Alma Mater, the University of Delaware, which currently has 4 confirmed and 12 probable cases of the bug among the student body.

The specific group, who’s efforts I am referencing are not those of the school’s administration, which range from setting up a temporary swine flu clinic, to calling the CDC and telling them about it.  Nor am I speaking of Iron Hill, the campus-adjacent bar which preemptively closed Thursday night to ensure none of it’s employees were infected (none were) rather than risk exposing more people to the bug.  I’m not even alluding to the student founded “Swine 09,” who are currently selling t-shirts to benifit the Newark Boy’s and Girl’s Club.

No, the group I mean is the entire student body.  Why?  Well, I have on good authority that in the last week or so “Swine Flu” has become a very popular party theme around campus.  And I know what you’re saying: “Big deal.  Students at [insert school] have been throwing swine flue parties all week too. ”  That may well be the case, but I ask you, can said school also boast a 0.1%  infection rate  in the student body?  Because UD can.

My point is that tempting fate in the name of ironic humor is all well and good, but when the virus comes knocking on your door, when you are forced to accept the harsh reality of your own mortality, the game changes.  No longer is it a simple matter of tastelessness or irresponsibility.  No, it becomes a question of fortitude, of strength of character.  Simply put, when the dreaded epidemic finds you, will you have the courage needed to cram into the overcrowded, confined space of a frat house basement, and weaken your immune system by getting blind drunk?

I thought not.  For that takes a truly special individual. Some would call them heroes. 

I call them Blue Hens.

 

Check it to wreck it.