Camping mitigates some of the stresses of midterms and finals season. If you can manage to concentrate, camping is a great way to increase efficiency and minimize transaction costs. With all of your books and computer supplies in one place, a good stack of paper and pencils, and a never-ending supply of coffee and orange juice from Blue Java, the effective camper can conquer any courseload. Library fines got you down? No worries–you never have to bring the book outside!

For the camper who likes company, group efforts–such as establishing an “alcove” or commandeering a row of seats in “the ref”–have their own benefits. A group of friends can share notes, calculators, headphones, keyboards, USB keys, aspirin, Airborne, cookies, caffeine pills, air mattresses, and water. If you pick a good group, they will help and encourage you, and stare at you disapprovingly when you wander onto Facebook. “Do you want a B-!?” one friend once asked another repeatedly, nearly making him cry. No, no he did not want a B-, and after several sleepless study sessions, a B- he did not get.

Camping builds community and camaraderie. It’s also a bit thrilling, as any veteran camper knows. There are hours, usually between three and six, when Butler becomes a very eerie place. Bedraggled, lank-haired denizens shamble back and forth in hallways. Small, beady-eyed law students burst into alcoves and launch tirades at horrified undergrads. People pass out on the floor, covered only with thin CU sweatshirts.

The atavistic scramble and the endless parade of freaks are frightening enough to kick the lazy paper-writer into gear. After all, the intention is not to linger in Butler but to get out as soon as possible, home for the holidays or down to the business of summer. And the real benefit to camping in Butler is being able to cut oneself off from campus and society–for a night, five days, two weeks–to focus wholly on academic tasks. After all, as any reference room camper will recognize, “A man is but what he knoweth.”