I'm very sorry Madame Blavatsky, but it is with a heavy heart that I alert you that you are no longer allowed to be a hippy.  Starting today you are now going to have to start bathing everyday; forming drum circles will result in immediate internment starting the of the month.

This is really for your own good.  Think about it, who were hippies before you...your parents!  And now they’re all sellouts and stuff.  They don't understand you and your completely unique feelings that no one has ever felt before.  Therefore, what sense does it make that you're just regurgitating the same drivel that they were 30 some odd years ago.  Heck, you're basically just playing into their hands by growing your hair long, wearing the same Che shirt every day, and smoking pot everyday after a game of ultimate Frisbee.  Is that what you want?  To be little robots for the corporations!  This is why I have to save you from yourselves.

But worry not; Hobbes isn't going to leave you high and dry in terms of political identification.  Starting tomorrow, you are all going to be "physiocrats."  Just imagine how brilliant and freethinking that girl in Eco 211 will think you are when you're advocating the political thought of the 19th century.  If that doesn't get her hot under the collar nothing will. 

And the best part is that this won't take any more work than you put into being a hippy; which, judging by the fact you stared at me blankly when I mentioned Blavatsky, I'm guessing wasn't much.  If anyone ever tries to trap you by asking what you believe, just start ranting about the artifice of cities and the glamour of farm life.   The corporate shill in them will have caused them to just stare blankly at you by this point so you should be able to leave with your dignity.

And don't worry, once physiocrat sells out and becomes the norm, I'll be right here telling all those tractor drivers to become mercantilists, and enlightening them to the wonders of global trade.

As a way of holding onto a few of the small trappings of hippidom, and easing the transfer away from it...hot girls can keep a philosophy of freelove

Herein, and to follow, shall be a series of life lessons that I have collected in my college career.  I shall try and keep them brief and to the point.

The first, and certainly most pressing lesson, is:

You are in college...learn how to drink

Now this is not an advertisement for drinking...drinking is a choice, but should you choose to do it, you should choose to do it well.  Now I'm sure that you'd love to tell me about how you and some of the kids on your hall downed so many sixers that you all ended up lining the stalls booting into adjacent toilets.

That is not drinking, that is merely an idiotic form of brain death.  As a simple visual reminder, this: never happens after a night of proper drinking.  If you come across this in the course of your carousing, simply leave the room.

This brings me to the second point of this lesson; drink beer.  When I tell you to drink beer, I mean to actually drink beer: stouts, ales, lagers, lambics, what have you.  People sound stupid when they utter something to the effect of, "I don't drink beer, it tastes awful."  Yes, there are beers that taste bad, but all of them do not, in fact after you have spent time trying them, very few do.  Personally I started out drinking stouts, namely Guinness, and then worked my way out.  Yes, you might not enjoy all of them at first, but I assure you that if you spend time to expand your palette you will thank yourself in later years.

Finally, there is the part of this lesson which applies to those who drink at bars.  If you are ordering at a crowded, or not so crowded, bar, order something simple.  You don't need to order a "Harvey Wallbanger" when you could simply get a "Screwdriver."  The rule of thumb is that any mixed drink you order at a bar where there is a line should involve 2 ingredients (i.e. gin and tonic, 7&7, etc.).

There, now go eat drink and be merry as a civilized human being.