The Greatest Irony

B ig things happened in the world these past few weeks, folks. There were some primaries. Maryland made same-sex marriage
legal-ish. Hotels all around the world were flooded with college students eager to drink Natty Light in hopes of "scoring"
in the club. Yes, it was a big week Cincinnati, but I think we all know the biggest issue: the irony that is Gallagher Student Center (GSC).
To begin, I would like to say that although my family name is Gallagher and that I do carry about me a certain air of fame, fortune and class, I am not related to any of the famous Gallaghers. Not even the watermelon
smasher guy. Frowny faces ensue. But, just as there is light at the end of the tunnel (the kind that doesn't lead you to the afterlife or the front of a train; I'm not talking about that kind) there is hope in the fact that I am still allowed in GSC like all the rest of you and occasionally lie to tour groups by saying that I am related. Nonetheless, the real focus of this rambling is not the building in its entirety but the building's most stand-out feature: its GIANT clock. And yes, there is a reason I am using the singular tense.
Although the building is home to the Clocktower Lounge, a giant
clock on the front of it AND a Coffee Emporium (I know it's not a clock, but it shares a few of the same letters), GSC has a disturbingly low amount of clocks in it; to my count, four. Yes, four. And don't get all sly and say that the time is on those useless televisions or in people's offices because A) the TV's are a huge waste of resources that are only good for the time and an incorrect
temperature reading and B) those "time sources" are not clocks. We're talking clocks here, people: tick-tocking clocks.
With one analog version on each floor of the building, I began to wonder the motivation behind such a lack of timepieces. Is it some dastardly plot by Blue Gibbon to make everyone not realize what time it is so they can close whenever they want? Oh wait, they already do that.
Maybe it's a scheme by Coffee Emporium (who have already ingratiated themselves within this clock conundrum, as commented on above) to make everyone forget that morning is coming soon so they'll continuously buy that "last late night coffee."
Or maybe it's a thoughtful move by the University to keep one of the larger buildings as an open study space open for a long time. Wait, that sounds way too altruistic for the administration... ZINGER!
Mulling over this topic for 455 words, and watching way too much daytime TV while being
at home, I realized what the real problem is here. No one, and by that I mean no clock, wants to make the Clocktower Lounge feel (whisper this next part or else it might hear you) insecure.
Yes, you're guffawing at this very notion, but think, aside from having the biggest clock on campus, what else does the lounge offer? It's an oddly shaped, multi-purpose room whose only real identity lies in its endowment and that it has a view of what used to be called the Greenspace. You take away the lounge's clock, and you take away its identity.
So, if you're like me and find yourself complaining a lot, I offer the following: the next time you think your life is hard, instead of saying, "hashtag first-world problems" think of your own clock. And if you don't have one, think of GSC's. Think of how it hovers there, lonely and unused. How people look at it, knowing it's a few minutes off, turning it blue whenever they feel like it, not really respecting its authority.
Think of how the clock has been replaced by phones and internet,
how normal interaction with your piece of time has been replaced by the media. Think of your clock whenever you're in doubt, and - I'm sure - in fact I guarantee that your day will go from noon to midnight in no time.
Also, time will pass whether you like it or not, so if all else fails, keep calm and carry on. Yay propaganda!