Somehow this scenario still surprises me, especially on this campus, especially in these deranged days: some suburban kid wearing Uggs and sweats or otherwise flouting fashion sense to an extreme that I find them offensive to look at have a table inside Angell Hall and start yelling about how if you buy their…whatever…you can help end hunger or save a life or plant a tree in the Amazon or whatever the trendy pet cause is these days.

This bothers me for a number of reasons. First of all, I don’t want to buy your shitty product. Second of all, you are not really telling me where you’ll be sending my money (and quite frankly I think if I were to ask, you wouldn’t be able to tell me where it was going). Third of all, selling doughnuts or buttons or whatever is not raising any actual awareness for your cause. I mean, it’s great you want to make a difference. Thanks for playing. Please try again.

Maybe this is why nobody is sensitive to actual issues in the world. There are a handful of people who appear to care (but their actual level of care is dubious) and none of them are very good at defending themselves. They have nothing incensing to say. They are not even that good to look at, a lot of the time. Call me vapid and asinine, but I think that part of a successful movement is having a charismatic leader who is idolize-able. Instead of intelligent, well-spoken representative leaders our age seems to have a heap of “concerned” celebrities. I’m not saying that all concerned celebrities are only “concerned,” but if you made seven figures and had a house in Hollywood Hills and a loft in Manhattan, how much do you actually care about starving kids or whatever?

It’s a publicity stunt. Just like the Angell Hall salespeople. It’s pretty cute that people think they can make a difference by selling me baked goods. And I like baked goods. But at the same time, can I really trust you to send my money to an organization that won’t abuse it? Can I really trust that your priorities are in the right place? Why doesn’t anyone ever consider that the sweet young college idealists might have agendas, too? (I mean, I do.)

The brownies were kinda good though.  Try not to over-bake them next time.