Author’s note: The following is a work of satire. Please do not take it literally or personally.

Whether or not this column’s title got your attention, I am going to discuss the topic of sex. This shouldn’t surprise you, since sex is talked about a lot on campus. A LOT. It seems like I can’t spend an hour in one spot without hearing about “the nasty” in some form or another. In the Market Place, I overhear stories of hot post-Dive hookups. In politics class, I’m taught about the prevalence of contraception in developing countries. Even in Chapel, homilists address the interplay between sexuality and religion. Everywhere I go I just can’t escape the birds and bees.

While the average student may not mind, I, for one, am outraged. I came to Gustavus expecting a completely wholesome Lutheran education, where the dirtiest jokes uttered contain the names Sven and Ole. Instead, characters like Captain Condom and Vicky Vibrator tried to indoctrinate me with the “importance of safe sex.” Excuse me, but what ever happened to intellectual diversity? Why can’t the theory of baby-delivering storks be taught alongside human reproduction? After all, Gustavus was founded as a theological institute, where puritan scholars never discussed the big, naughty elephant in the room.

Fast-forward to now when there are myriad campus events that educate and inform on matters concerning sex. Last weekend, students staged performances of the Vagina Monologues, a play by Eve Ensler, that covers subjects ranging from gender identity to rape to the inconvenience of tampons. I’m sorry, but all the talk of angry vaginas and coochie snorchers simply went over my head.

However, the icing on top of the sex-flavored cake occurs every fall during first-year orientation. The Peer Assistants and I Am We Are put together skits describing the comedy and concerns of young-adult sexuality. As mentioned previously, students dressed as Captain Condom and other titillating superheroes shed light on contraception, sexual orientation and the usage of sex toys. If you’re curious about these depraved presentations, you can see for yourself on YouTube.

Clearly, all this talk of sex has no place on campus. Sure, many claim that sex “feels good” and “burns calories” and “fosters intimacy,” but they ignore the fact that sex is evil. Passion, infatuation and desire only lead people to ruin, or worse yet, land them on Maury. Think about all the awkward encounters and conversations you’ve had regarding sex, like the time your parents tried to describe it to you, or the time your roommate walked in on you (despite there being a tie on the door). Think of all the disgusted gasps your grandmother would make if she attended school with you.

In light of the lecherous talk occurring here, I propose some changes to better accommodate the virgin ears on campus. First, I suggest we institute a “Don’t ask, don’t tell” policy regarding sex, meaning we neither inquire of others’ sex lives, nor do we provide sensual details of our own. This applies to the classroom, the dorms, the Chapel and Health Services. Sexuality in all forms should be prohibited. Second, all condom dispensers should be removed from the college premises. It is inexcusable to have such blatant sexual objects in residence halls where they constantly tempt students to have sex. Third, Internet filters should be installed on all campus computers to not only block pornographic sites, but the entire Internet as well. Considering Rule 34 of the Internet: you never know what’s safe and what isn’t.

With regard to all the explicit print media at school, I would suggest covering any mention of sex with black spray paint and a Bible verse, but I think that goes too far. And not because it violates the first amendment or promotes sexual discrimination. Rather, the Bible itself is filled with risqué content. To make the good book PG, one would have to chop out Song of Solomon, half of Leviticus and a plethora of other verses.

By now you’re probably wondering whether it’s truly necessary to give the student population a terrible case of blue balls. What’s the point, you may ask, of trying to prevent something that’s biologically inevitable? You see, I adhere to the belief that everything related to the in-n-out should be learned on your wedding day, not in school. I mean, since when has college been about exploring your body, your relationships and your identity? Since when has adulthood been about embracing physical and emotional intimacy? Well, perhaps many of your readers already have embraced this, but I’m willing to let the sexual tension fester for a few years yet.