I’ll be the first one to say it – the cathedral’s got to go. It’s not because it’s old, or poorly lit inside. It’s not because the desks are falling apart and the bathroom is always on the opposite side of the building (no matter what room I’m in). It’s because it’s an unsightly phallic obstruction in an otherwise neat and tidy campus.
Take my mornings, studying in the Hillman library. I’m in my favorite seat in the Dick Thornburgh Room, the one that faces the giant portrait of Dick himself, and I’m looking out the window. There it is, rising into the skyline - the wide, dominant base, giving way to that sleek and slender vertical protrusion. Up and Up and Up and Up it goes. It makes me feel like I could just pass out and die inside the Dick room, surrounded by all the Dick commemorative memorabilia. Something has to be done about this gross imagery in the center of campus before it takes a toll on my mental health.
Take my afternoons, going out to Shadyside for some shopping. As I walk out of the hardware store with my spray paint, I can still catch a glimpse of that disagreeable building in the distance. It’s still visible when I exit the Joann Fabrics, loose cloth, and cape sewing pattern in hand. It seems that the whole city is exposed to the unsheathed, uncovered, and uncensored monument of stone, standing erect and alone in the middle of Oakland. I don’t know how you could think of raising a child in Pittsburgh with a thing like that around.
Take my evenings, losing my sanity and morphing into my alter ego “Dick-Man.” I’m on Forbes Avenue fervently tagging every wall of every building with a gigantic cock and balls. Not the CVS, not the Chipotle – not even the many chicken-themed restaurants – are safe from my frenzy. The Cathedral looms overhead, ever watching – as if an omnipotent deity, blessing my phallic-centric journey. The Pitt Police are less enthusiastic about my testicular-themed transcendence, and I’m forced to flee and end my spree prematurely and unsatisfied.
Take my midnights, scaling the side of the Cathedral. I’m in the nude with nothing but my Dick-Man cape and mask on. The wind is howling and my cape is flapping around. It’s bitterly cold up here, but I have to conquer this building – it’s the sole source, and inspiration, of my power. Batman has the Batcave, Superman has the Fortress of Solitude, and Dick-Man has the Cathedral of Learning – the one place that perfectly resembles everything that Dick-Man stands for. Standing triumphantly at the tip, I cast my Freudian gaze over campus, satisfied with my campaign. That satisfaction goes limp and shrivels up as the Pitt Police arrive and place me in handcuffs.
Take my court date, pleading the insanity defense to the judge. “It was all the Cathedral’s doing your Honor! It’s a phallic stain upon this campus…”