Tag Archives: Willem Villerius

Polarity^2: F*ck-off day and centrist politics

The opinions expressed in The Lawrentian are those of the students, faculty and community members who wrote them. The Lawrentian does not endorse any opinions piece except for the staff editorial, which represents a majority of the editorial board. The Lawrentian welcomes everyone to submit their own opinions. For the full editorial policy and parameters for submitting articles, please refer to the

Inorcism of Molly

What is ecstasy in life? I’m not talking about the pill named molly. I’m the only one here who’s being a pill ask- ing such a phony question, and I’ll take on the name Molly too while I’m at it. Anyhow, the Google machine tells me it’s “an overwhelming feeling of great happiness or joyful

The Life Dissonant

Sun Ra’s music just makes sense sometimes. Willem de Kooning’s artwork (not my namesake) just makes sense sometimes. Fascists hate abstract art. Already enough reason to like it, but there’s something there. They denounce it as “Degenerate art;” that sounds cool as hell, though.   It’s a kind of solidarity, really. The exact narrative —


 Do it. You’ll make do. Being a do gooder is better than being a do nothing. You could do nothing. Do the do-si-do of undoing. It’s as easy as do re mi, don’t do yourself in. I do declare, if you do the thing, you’ll do right by me. Get your to-do list done up,

The Beached Whale

Sometimes, I was a beached whale. I spent life; plowing forward through a vast ocean full of stuff and things. Vaguely consuming everything as I swam by. Baleen skimming through it all with no teeth to sink in.   On time, I was my own. I found myself; detached from any pod. In a vast

A Critique of Brain-Use Policy

Editor’s Note: This article is a work of satire.  Lawrence University promises academic freedom and inclusivity to its students, but it  suppresses my rights to promote fascist ideology in many ways. You know, like freedom is like this thing and … like I think it’s really important that we are freedom and stuff. I think

Spoopy Speech Policing Fantasia



I dreamt up. I dreamt it up. I dreamt for sore ears. I dreamt of songs. I supposed it sacred.  I came to. I came too. I came upon a mound. I came to the climax. I surveyed the site.   Nothing. Not a thing. No city up a hill. No city up the hill.


“I am become a flamingo.”​—G.J. Condorcrest There’s always been something oddly calling about humanoid birds. I could imagine them coming around to stare me into oblivion. It could all swing ‘round for a tea party. I really just need my mind cleared a bit, cleaned.  There is something about the crazy eyes of birds. Their