Written by Drinking insane amounts with the intention of getting “retarded” is nothing new, particularly in a college atmosphere. It’s about as commonplace as breathing in air. As a college student, I find myself taking part in a plethora of non-stimulating (to say the least) conversations in which alcohol is the pressing topic at hand. People will list, rather excitedly (and with a hint of braggadocios in tone), the amount of alcohol they consumed the night before, or the weekend before, or two weekends before, or three weekends before, or the Friday before and after their midterm, or on Thirsty Thursday, or on the Sunday following that crazy party that Andy and co. threw on Saturday night (the one where Simon blacked out and went streaking throughout campus by himself), etc. You get the picture.
“Last night was ridiculous.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Oh my god. It was insane.”
“What happened?”
“Well, basically, I killed my liver. I pre-funked at Joe’s house and drank like 3 beers and took like 5 shots of Jack’s (Jack Daniels). Then we went to Nate’s and I shotgunned 3 more beers, beer bonged another beer, and took, like, I think it was 4 shots of Smirnoff. I’m pretty sure I blacked out at Nate’s in the first 10 minutes.”
To black out – to intake copious amounts of alcohol in one outing to the point in which events from the specified outing can neither be recalled nor identified.
This phenomenon of blacking out is, in my opinion, esteemed within a college setting. It’s the cool thing to do, to drink yourself to the point in which you can’t remember a thing from the night before, while at the same time causing extreme detriment to your liver and brain. And although there are tons of people who drink with the intention of not blacking out, oppositely there is a handful of people who drink excitedly anticipating having no recall of the night’s events.
Ever heard of a “21 Run?”
This is probably one of the best ways to destroy your body and mind for a night, and it only takes 2 hours to do so. Here’s how a 21 Run works: the birthday boy or girl, upon becoming of legal drinking age, embarks upon a most epic journey that entails going to the bar with of-age friends and acquaintances and attempting to intake 21 shots in a span of 120 minutes. The predictable end result: whether or not the birthday boy or girl reaches the magic number, a black out almost always ensues. The night involves much vomiting (many times at the bar, and if this is the case, the birthday boy or girl usually gets thrown out for the night), passing out and often times, friends teaming up to carry the motionless body back home as if he or she is a wounded soldier being carried off the battlefield in war. The battlefield: the bar, the street, the pavement, etc. The war: fighting to stay conscious. To say this is not a very pretty sight is a gross understatement. And to even say that it’s a gross understatement is, in itself, a gross understatement.
Fortunately, your own 21 Run takes place only once in your life (that is, if you choose to partake in it). Unfortunately, blacking out, vomiting, passing out and needing to be taken care of as if you’re a child is a weekly occurrence (especially among college students). Essentially, we’re looking at the problem of binge drinking.
I’ll spare listing all the adverse effects alcohol has on the body and brain. We all have at least a basic idea of how harmful alcohol can be, especially in copious amounts. I just wonder, why do people binge drink knowing how awful it is for their well-being? And it’s not just once or twice a quarter or semester; many college students treat “binging” with the same regularity as they do attending lecture every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. In other words, that’s a lot of alcohol consumed on a frequented basis.
We all know alcohol is bad for your health; my intent is not to prove that or persuade you not to drink ever. Instead, I hope you read this questioning the insanity of drinking with the intention of blacking out. In using the aforementioned analogy, yes, there must be honor in fighting a war for your country, but I’m betting the same can’t be said for fighting to remember what you did last night.