Flatt: “Farewell, Oracle

I’m staring at this vast, empty page, trying to determine the best way to bid goodbye to my post. I graduate in three weeks, and, as I’ve run out of degree options at Tech, I will never again walk as student in these halls. Farewell, Oracle. I warn you, successor, that your voice will feel meek when cast into the whirlwinds of hateful prattle swirling around us, drilling mindlessly on doom when something better rests just beyond, almost within reach. Some of us can see it. I hope, sincerely, that you see it more clearly than I can, and share your visions well.

To those who travelled with me through my year here, both at the paper and in Henderson Hall, I can never tell you how much I appreciated sharing the road. My appreciation is not sentimental; I’d most likely be in a ditch somewhere had I not found my way to Tech.

I’ve read the novels of Faulkner, the theory Bloom, Elbow, Marx, and what feels like millions of words crafted painstakingly by young men and women bright-eyed, eager, glowing with talent and determination despite enormous reluctance or timidity, and I’ve learned more than I thought a mind could ever hold.

I’ve written until I find myself typing in air at idle moments and learned that I write poorly when sad or angry, and, when I can remember that Tech and the people here are my first true love, I write well.

My last and deepest thanks go out to anyone who has read my columns once or often. Remember that anyone who tells you what to do or think is suspect, and you, as a University student, have proved your own, ultimate authority on any decision that lies ahead. Nothing great in this world is impossible, and those who tell you peace can’t happen say so only because they don’t want it bad enough. The real enemy is anyone who urges you to fight.

In The Sound and the Fury, Mr. Compson warns his frightened son, before the young man embarks on his journey to the university, that “no battle is ever won…They are not even fought. The field only reveals to man his own folly and despair, and victory is an illusion of philosophers and fools.”

Instead of worrying over political correctness, we need to erase all reference to violence from our collective dialects. History should be forgotten so that all the blood spilt may be flushed away forever. As soon as everyone agrees to stand together, together we shall stand.

If you ever agreed with me or found any comfort or validation in my words, grant me a favor: make a new friend every day for the remainder of this semester. You may never have such an opportunity in front of you again.

If you disagreed or found me insulting or ignorant, then make two friends every day, and then, hopefully, we can call it even.

Value this paper. Some say journalism is a dying art. The people who write here have the courage not only to disagree, but to prove those people wrong.

I wish you the best. I suppose, one way or the other, I’ll see you next time.