“Anyone got space for 26 office chairs and a mannequin?” asked one editor.
Photo by Amit Roth
This year, Muir College debuts its new “School of Life” course. According to its mission statement, this class aims to teach students that “despite what you might’ve seen in shows like Glee, institutions who have power over you can and will take away the things you love, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” For the course’s first module, Muir College will convert the dedicated office space of The Muir Quarterly (The MQ) into another room for the El Portal Commuter Lounge. The office removal is part of a case study in “bureaucratic unaccountability.”
In an unprecedented move, Muir College does not have any individual staff member who claims responsibility for this new course’s impact, good or bad. Muir instead credits the course’s inception and the resulting removal of the MQ Office to “The Idea of Muir College” and “the inertia of a thousand accumulated conversations and decisions that you, of course, were never privy to.” All correspondence with The Idea of Muir College took place via listening to the taps and clanks in the recently unearthed water pipes lying on Muir Quad. Students had not been informed that Muir’s removal of the MQ office is part of the School of Life to ensure their immersion in the course experience and to maximize feelings of helplessness.
“So, it turns out The Idea of Muir College decided The MQ is actually taking away space from El Portal,” said Muir student Bradley Cho. “They keep saying it’s unfair for The MQ to have its own office, but we advocated for that privilege three decades ago — it’s not like we stole it from them!”
“We just thought that the lounge where a maximum of eleven people can ever be found studying should be about 150 sq. ft. larger,” said one of the Muir pipes. The Idea of Muir College reports that the MQ office’s historical and archival functions indicate just how old and out-of-date the MQ space is, compared to recent construction projects like Eighth College’s brand new, nonfunctional dining hall.
“Muir must manage many interests as it reallocates space, and we empathize with The MQ as they adapt to the situation we’re putting them in. But now they have a chance to shine under the same conditions as everyone else — that is to say, ungrounded in a college full of reservable rooms and no permanent home,” said the rightmost pipe.
“I guess it’s better to learn now than never that the material resources that make up our lives are ruled over by systems of power beyond our comprehension,” said Cho. “Oh well, I guess it’s only the sole space I felt at home in at UCSD.”
The pipes commented on the effectiveness of the course in teaching students to value the journey over the destination, saying, “When The MQ continuously attempted to work with the Muir pipe-ocracy by gathering alumni support, collecting data about El Portal’s usage, and presenting a case to Muir leadership, absolutely nothing changed!”
“Based on the constant flow of information through our pipeline,” the pipes said, “we know — much better than you do — that the renovations which we’re doing for commuter students after thirty years of talking about doing something for commuter students will be so awesome that we’ll need the extra space. But, remind me why it matters whether or not you understand our decisions?”
In an attempt to placate those displaced by these changes, the pipes have reportedly offered The MQ an empty room as far away from foot traffic as possible. The pipes say they’re certain that “The MQ will turn this slab of concrete into a hub of student activity. It’s not like we’re giving them a choice!”
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