By Kaitlin Thaney

he end of the world is upon us. Apocalypse now. I’m starting to hyperventilate. Why, you might ask?

The water has stopped running.

Yes, you heard me, the water has officially stopped.

For the first time since I stepped onto this campus, the sculpture in front of the Columbus Parking Garage, behind the Student Center, has gone dry.

For those of you that have absolutely no idea what I’m talking about, let me shed some light on the situation.

Here at Northeastern, we have a “sculpture garden.” No, I’m not kidding here. While this “garden” only includes three or four “sculptures,” I guess it still deserves an official name.

Well, the most sensational of all of these pieces of art is just too fantastic to even start to describe with words. (A moment of silence, please.)

It’s a giant black ball. Wait, it gets better. The powers that be decided they’d add to its stunning beauty by having water eternally spout from it, covering the entire surface. Or, at least, it used to.

What caused this dry spell? Did the sun cease to rise? Am I dreaming? Well, that seems to be the enigma at hand.

Since I first even visited this campus in November 2001, I was always mesmerized by this ball that never ceased to glisten with cool H20.

This ball has become almost as much of an icon for this university as the Husky. Actually, this ball is much higher on the food chain than any snarling pooch with four legs.

It brings a tear to my eye to even think of what I’m about to say. It’s been an issue that I’ve contemplated seeking professional counseling for and possibly starting a support group.

The ball, my friends, is drier than it’s ever been before.

Northeastern is finally out of line.

OK, cancel Springfest, great. That was a jerk move, but you know what, I can still sleep at night. Hike tuition, alright, now you’re pushing my buttons and my family’s bill fold, but hey, a second mortgage on my house to pay for college isn’t all that bad. At least I’m not living in a used refrigerator box. Cut off the water to our beloved giant black ball (I’m taking submissions as to a more clever name for that) and you’ve crossed the line.

What more can Northeastern students identify with than a very aesthetically simple, yet pleasing, water fountain? I can’t think of any logical or sensible answer to that and trust me, I’ve spent countless nights pondering that question.

I feel like part of my identity has been stolen. Everyone that’s anyone has passed that sculpture at least once in their life and caught a glimpse of the beautiful fountain and reveled in awe.

OK, so maybe I’m blowing this out of proportion, but, for the love of God, if this school can hike tuition to pay for President Richard Freeland’s eyebrow wax (wait a second …) then I think we can get the water running back in our sacred shrine, er, I mean water fountain.

I mean, come on now, we all know over half our tuition goes to the maintenance crew and gardeners. Seriously, those employees must have multiple beach houses, a personal jet and a dozen butlers.

I was convinced that this ball had super-sculpture powers, too. Throughout even the coldest of days and at the pinnacle of sub zero temperatures, there was still, miraculously, water running from this structure. Granted, the ball looked more like a misty orb due to the steam from the water hitting the surface, but it pulled through nonetheless. With stalactites and other glacier-like structures trying to weigh good ole’ black ball down, it still, day after day, kept our hopes high-and was wet.

It taught me no matter what life throws at you, there is a will and a way to succeed. That sculpture was my mentor, my hero, eh, not really, but we can pretend.

At the least, the school should get that fountain running again to benefit the university, rather than leave it parched and ordinary.

It all makes rational sense, with this push to cross over into “Top 100 Land.” Plant some flowers, add some soothing water fountains and the university can subconsciously subdue those animal instincts of the student population. Gardening stops riots, meh, that rationale works for me. At least it makes more sense than canceling a concert (note the sarcasm).

Making the campus “prettier” also is a sure bet just in case this school can’t make the ranks in terms of academics or administration. Petunias and tulips can always win over those parents strolling around campus with their high school sons or daughters. Let’s be honest here, if we all wanted a school based on academics and not pleasing landscape we’d be paying the same amount and going to Boston University.

So please, and I’m begging you, take a hose or even take one of those “parking lot attendees” that I catch sleeping at two in the afternoon and have them throw buckets at the fountain. Just stop the insanity and give us our dear oasis back — before we start flipping some cars.

– Kaitlin Thaney can be reached at [email protected].