Before entering the real world, another senior advises his successors.

Name, School: Alex Gortman, Creative Writing CC ‘11

Claim to fame: Over the course of a semester, I met a few times with Zadie Smith, a woman both intimidating and beautiful, who once introduced me to her pug dog who, I’m pretty sure, called me uncharismatic.

Where are you going: I’m heading down to a wonderful place called Kentucky Town, KY, where the pickles are briny and you have to dig elbow-deep in the self-serve barrel to get at them.

Three things you learned at Columbia:

1) One thing I’ve learned is that, at some point or another, a stray Frisbee on campus might hit you in the throat. And pursuant to that, one thing Columbia failed to teach me is why God left us so vulnerable and unprotected, neck-wise.

2) Most people are really ugly when they cry, so try to make good-looking friends, because helping them then seems a lot more dignified.

3) If you like to drink Creatine shakes and go to the gym with friends until you’re the size of a chair, you should probably start to wonder if you might be gay.

“Back in my day…” the KCCC seemed to be staging dorm-room exorcisms every other day, daring victories for Jesus, complete with demonic wailing and RA participation; students played out a sham protest in front of Butler—aping Gandhi poorly—that they insisted was not insipid and self-righteous, and everyone who was really stupid believed them; First Friday was a supposedly accepting, but really terrifying, event where people just didn’t realize how bad they smelled, but maybe it’s still like that.

Justify your existence in 30 words or fewer: I have long walked the dark alleys of my soul, still hoping to pass beneath just one streetlamp that will make me look at least a little less Jewish.

Is the War on Fun over? Who won? Any war stories? The intoxicated coterie at Death’s Door begs to know: “What do they mean, ‘War on Fun’? Are they talking about letting SEAS kids in?”

Would you rather give up oral sex or cheese? I feel like I’d be betraying the gay community if I didn’t say cheese here, so I’m definitely going to say oral sex.

Advice for the class of 2015: In following the administration’s plans for graduation, I would like to offer general advice for the class of 2015, as well as advice segregated by race and sexual orientation, but that would take extremes of effort that I simply no longer have, so here’s for you all:

A lot of people feel the need to have a safe zone, someplace nobody will offend them and punches are never pulled—those people are called pussies: avoid them.

Any Regrets? I should have planted a bed bug in my enemy’s room when I had the chance.