Lamenting Theft of Broadside

By Broadside Opinion Editor William Curtis

I imagine a time when people were more thoughtful, a time when respect was not something that had to be earned, but rather it was something given immediately along with the benefit of a doubt. But the times of my imagination have clearly dissipated. With the coming of a new era and generation, I would have assumed that some things were still revered and considered to be important enough not to be tampered with.

As a student at George Mason University, I have remained adamant about offering respect and admiration to fellow students as well as to anyone whom I crossed paths with. I never imagined that someone could be so dumb, or immature enough to do such a simplistic and vandalistic crime.

I know that readership isn’t the best. I know that students clearly have more important things to read other than Broadside. But regardless of that fact, many students still read this publication—despite their scholarly obligations. Just knowing that there is a possibility of the option that they may read it—which many students do—keeps us in our continuing efforts of production to the student population.

Now what happens when you factor in the moronic truth that some students never mature, never grow, and realize that some of their actions are and never would be warranted? Imagine that you’ve worked hard all week on a project that was to be mass produced and distributed, but when you went to see the fruits of your labor, there is nothing there. Someone—some person, some simplistic juvenile—had gone and stolen your work, all of it, and now you are left to deal with the defeat that comes with the loss of your labors.

I know people steal. I’m not an idiot. I know bad things happen to good people, and that the good fight is never easy, and so on. But honestly, I thought that a college atmosphere would have a bit more courtesy and respect towards its fellow students to revere publications and the works of their fellow students. I admit my credulity in this matter, and most obviously, some students are not at this standard. That is the reason I make this editorial known to the masses.

When I think about the time and effort I put every week into making the opinion section of the newspaper—not to mention the many other staff members that contribute to the making of this paper—I try my best to make sure that I make it the best issue ever. Upon realizing that my work had been stolen, I was completely flabbergasted. How could someone steal the work I spent all week on? I always relished coming into the Johnson Center, picking up a fresh copy of my work, and enjoying the fact that the paper I held in my hand was something I helped create, something I touched and partially made mine with my efforts.

Stealing for any reason is clearly wrong, as I am sure this is a point I do not need to emphasize due to the overproduction of Disney movies teaching and preaching lessons of valor and honor—clearly, their message wasn’t received. I don’t know why people steal, but I’m determined to keep on topic and not segue into pointless areas of subject such as the morality of the mind. No matter what the reason, there has never been an excuse for thievery, especially when the act is so petty that it just makes the criminal involved look even more pathetic—currently, lucky him that his identity is still unknown, as well as his motives.

I can argue about the importance of honesty and morality, but clearly these beliefs have been lost on the generations. With that effect remaining useless, I would like to stress the point that whoever stole the newspapers and for whatever reason you may have had, I can promise you that you will be brought to justice.

I personally went searching for these stolen papers to the point that I even climbed into a dumpster to search for them and found several copies stuffed in there like yesterday’s trash.

I would hope that the person who committed this seemingly trivial offense would come clean. But the odds are most definitely against my higher belief in the common good.