The downstairs bathrooms in the Lang building where I take Russian class on Tuesday nights are some of the smelliest and worst-maintained of any public restrooms I frequent on a regular, and this has been the case since 2002, when I entered Lang as a transfer student. Memories! Poop-scented ones.
Another constant, though, is that this restroom has the best graffiti in, maybe, the world. It’s just so LANG. The same stall that contained this T.S. Eliot quote had a quote from the song “Love me or leave me,” a large marker-scrawled “OCCUPY MY VAGINA” with the addendum “with consent” added in a different handwriting, and very small and in pencil near the tp dispenser, the words
FORM
CONTENT
FORM
CONTENT
For a couple of years after my graduation from Lang, I would preface all rants related to gender, race, and class by saying something like, “Not to get all Lang about it, but…”
I stopped saying that not because I got more confident in my arguments, but because for the most part, no one knows what Lang is (and lord knows I’m not helping). But I am still pretty Lang about stuff! I mean sheeeeesh you should hear me talk about the Internet talking about Liz Lemon! So what is that, the instinct to apologize for being Lang? Probably It’s a Lang trait unto itself, forged in seminar classes sat in the back row, boring mental-laser-hate-holes into the backs of the heads of the people using their words like middle fingers. The feeling that you’ve got to apologize for the side you’re on, ‘cause the side you’re on has a vocal contingent of jerks.
It is not unlike the Internet. L.O.L. Content.
Beautiful
