Ladies and gentlemen, gather ‘round, and allow me to regale you with a tale as old as time, yet as fresh as this morning’s dew—a tale of human folly so grand that it ought to be carved in marble and set in the town square for all to marvel at. Yes, today, I have the distinct pleasure of watching the fine specimens of our youth as they descend upon this fair city, ushered in by a battalion of blue-uniformed oafs—our very own APD, bless their misguided hearts.

Now, one might wonder why such a spectacle warrants an escort of armed swine, their badges gleaming in the sunlight like the gilt edge of a well-worn lie. Could it be that the delicate, darling scholars of UT need protection from the rabble? Oh, no, friends, it’s far more entertaining than that. You see, these great stewards of higher learning have devised a cunning plan: to shield their pampered progeny from the sight, sound, and smell of those of us who have had the audacity to exist without the comfort of four walls.

Oh, but don’t be too quick to judge! For in their infinite wisdom, these leaders have foreseen every danger—every prowling monster, lurking about with nefarious intent, ready to snatch their precious darlings away from their sheltered lives. Why, it’s as if they’ve forgotten that the real monsters are not the ones without a roof over their heads, but the ones in their very midst. The ones who, in a few short hours, will be slipping something into a red Solo cup, or driving a fist into a face at some sordid soirée, or worse, committing acts so vile that even the newspapers will avert their gaze.

But we, the unwashed masses, the ones without a postcode or a trust fund, we are the true villains, the boogeymen of their bedtime stories. It’s almost charming how little they understand the world they’ve created, this dystopian paradise where empathy is for the weak, and profit is the only god worth worshipping.

Ah, the sweet siren call of capitalism! “Maximum profit at all costs!” they cry, while stuffing their pockets with the fruits of our labor and their minds with the rot of moral decay. They preach greed as a virtue, all while the rest of us scramble for the crumbs from their banquet table. And we, the docile sheep, nod along, convinced that one day, if we just work hard enough, we’ll be invited to the feast.

Well, I’ve got news for you, folks: that table is reserved, and your name isn’t on the list.

Oh, but let us not forget the good folks at PragerU, that shining beacon of intellectual rigor, now worming its way into the minds of our young ones. Why, it’s almost as if we’ve forgotten that education was meant to enlighten, not indoctrinate. But then, why should we be surprised? This is, after all, the same society that taught us to revere the rich and fear the poor, to uphold the status quo even as it crumbles beneath our feet.

So, what hope do we have, you ask? Well, my dear reader, as long as there are those among us who can see the absurdity of it all, who can laugh in the face of the great cosmic joke that is our existence, then perhaps there is still a glimmer of hope—a chance that, someday, we might rise above the madness and build something better.

But until then, I suppose we’ll just have to sit back and enjoy the show.