Airborne Go-Carts in 12 Sentences

When I was about ten or eleven years old, I had a go-cart, a small little thing, its tires the size of a small frozen pizza, its steering wheel the size of a doughnut, its seat barely big enough to fit an eleven-year-old boy who hadn't hit a growth spurt in since third grade, and its protective bars about as thick as a hot dog. It was made for a track in dry weather; I abused it on the bumpy field outside my dad's shop in the rain far too often. This thing, essentially a motorized hamster ball, was the outlet of many of my boyhood fantasies, most of which involved pretending I was a spaceship pilot. Today, however, I drove the thing across the rain-soaked yard, through the four-foot-tall grass that was mowed down to make a track, through the sharp and mildly hazardous corners, and over the ankle-deep puddles. I thought that I could hit the wet and sharp corners safely despite my father's warning. Bad idea. It seemed that when I hit the corner I was beginning to tilt and that the tilt was getting more severe and that eventually none of the four tires were on the ground. I was in the air for about five seconds, and promptly came back down hard. My father did I see running towards me as myself I pulled from the bent aluminum frame. "Can we do that again?" I staggered from the "wreckage" and laughed and hugged my dad out of necessity because if you had a kid who just wrecked a small car in front of you you'd want to hug him too. The pouring rain gave zero visibility, the ankle-deep puddles that caused the whole episode, and the knowledge that the coolest thing that had ever happened to me had just happened made the whole ordeal, as scary as it was for about five seconds, a memorable moment in the best way possible.

What Harold Ramis Really Meant

Animal House, the greatest college movie of all time, is a work of cinematic genius. It is one of the funniest movies of all time and is my personal favorite movie. Harold Ramis, the ingenius director behind the whole comedic masterpiece, created in Animal House what most comedy directors would sell their souls to create. The many protagonists--Bluto, Flounder, Boone, Otter, D-Day, and the myriad of others--create lasting impressions on the viewer that will remain with one no matter how long between viewings. Through their ridiculous antics and pranks against the dean of the college (they killed a horse in the dean's office with a gun that shot blanks) and their hysterical hijinks among themselves (the legendary toga party), the characters seem to take on a life of their own and make the movie seem that much more real.


The movie, while at the same time being the greatest comedy ever, echoes the everpresent idea of acceptance and equality. The Deltas, the notorious party fraternity to which the protagonists belong, is constantly being harassed by the dean of the college and the prep house, the smug Omegas. The Deltas earnestly try to make life at the stuffy college tolerable by having as much fun as they can: by pulling pranks and throwing parties. Because they don't necessarily "fit in" with the more upper-crust crowd at the college, the dean tries his best to make life for the Deltas a veritable hell. He gives them "double secret probation," which means if the Deltas screw up one more time, their charter is revoked. No questions, no nothing. Strike one and you're out. As the dean so eloquently put it, "It's time to grab the bull by the balls and kick those Deltas out of this college!" How lovely.


This seems to show a theme of intolerance towards anyone who is different or maybe not of the same social class as another. The Deltas, being social outcasts at the college, are shunned by the higher-ups, and are passed off as grotesque, barbaric, and vulgar. However, the Omegas don't even know them, and are quick to judge, even though most of the people at the school believe they have problems themselves. At the same time, it seems only the people of prominence are intolerant of the Deltas. By the turnout of their numerous parties, it seems that many people at the college actually like the Deltas. Could be a clever representation of how the general public have no problem with diversity while the people who run the show can't stand anything that differs from their idea of normality?

Now, I highly doubt that Harold Ramis was really trying to convey this. At the same time, he might have. I mean, the man was in Ghostbusters and directed this masterpiece of cinematic comedy, so who knows? And, yes, I was able to make a sharp accusation at the government by using Animal House as a take-off point. How, you ask? Because I'm just that good.