Vandals Attack ROTC Buildings at UNC and N.C. State

Ok, seriously y'all. I swear that North Carolina is a wonderful state. The college towns are the exceptions, not the rule.

From the News and Observer:

Vandals staged attacks early Wednesday on the buildings used by the Reserve Officers' Training Corps at N.C. State University and UNC-Chapel Hill, echoing similar assaults on three Triangle recruiting stations last month. As before, vandals sprayed anti-war slogans and profanity, splashed red paint and claimed responsibility with a mass e-mail message to area media outlets.
Lt. Col. Carol Ann Redfield of the Army ROTC program at N.C. State was caught off guard. "This is the first time I know of that anything like this has happened here," she said. "I certainly appreciate that people have different opinions, and they should be able to express them, but I have a problem when they damage property."

From the vandals' e-mail:

The e-mail, from someone calling himself "celest ialbeing" said, "Stop these recruitment centers that target poor people and people of color to fight to maintain the power structure that (literally and figuratively) imprisons us daily."

The campus radicals really have lost their gift for rhetoric since the 60s, haven't they? Just try putting "literally and figuratively" into a protest chant.

These people are such vicious, nasty losers.

I happen to think Women's Studies programs are generally useless and damaging to the fabric of American culture. But I respect the fact that some people choose to do that with their lives and studies.

I don't go around painting their doors with "I won't fight for the dismantling of the societal heteronormativity you feel literally and figuratively imprisons us every day"-- in pink paint, of course.

And, Women's Studies majors don't exactly spend their days and nights and lives risking their lives to preserve my freedoms as the military does.

It's college. Have a beer. Plan a peaceful protest (a task which is ironically becoming ever harder for peace activists these days), or write a frantic, seething column for the school paper. Then sit on the quad and drink in your newly found moral superiority, more refreshing and cheaper than PBR pitcher night at Boar's Head.