While taking one of my frequent walks through Library Mall, it suddenly occurred to me that I'm going straight to hell. You might be asking yourself, "How do you know this?" "What have you done?" or "Gee, Jeremy, how would I know if I'm going to hell?" These are all great questions, but unfortunately, I'm not the one you should be asking. The man with all the answers you're looking for preaches right here in the peaceful Midwestern city of Madison, Wis. Perhaps you've seen this omniscient profit of the afterlife; he is an African American male, about 5'8" and oftentimes wears a T-shirt reading "Homos go to hell."

However, do not make the same mistake I made and immediately dismiss yourself from an eternity with Satan because you are not gay. I am in fact a heterosexual, but I will nonetheless be attending the everlasting inferno when my time here is through. To my surprise it is not because of the 2003 hit-and-run I took part in, but rather because I am a Jew. My Judaism has gotten me into trouble before, but never in a predicament as grandiose as this one. I must tell you though, I am really not worried about this hellish ordeal. After observing our mysterious preacher in Library Mall, I came to realize a lot of us are going to hell. When you think about it, it may actually be kind of fun. I've spent a winter in Madison — can't be worse than a summer in hell.

Although I'm going to hell, I still believe such demonstrations in Library Mall should be dealt with while I'm alive. The fact remains that we attend a very liberal and active campus. Almost every week there seems to be some sort of demonstration occurring on my way to class, and the majority of these public outcries drive me crazy. Countless times over the past three years I've walked to class having to listen to men and women dictate their views on the immorality of abortion as they parade their pictures of an aborted fetus. As someone who is adamantly pro-choice, I abhor these demonstrations. An aborted fetus is a very frightening image, but so is me naked, and that doesn't mean I'm never taking my clothes off again. My opinion on an issue would not be swayed by a few fanatics craving their attention for the week. It is for this very reason that I continue walking to class instead of throwing various fruits and vegetables at these people.

I urge all those who have been enraged by various campus protests, distributions of leaflets or even chalk etched in on the sidewalk to just ignore these acts. It is everyone's right to voice their opinions, and a right that I fully respect. However, when you devote your attention to these demonstrators, screaming back at them and trying to dismantle their beliefs, you are only aiding in their cause. These are people who were never breastfed, their mothers and fathers didn't read to them, in high school they were crammed into lockers and now they are trying to gain the attention they have always been denied. I refuse to satisfy a man's desire for attention by arguing with him about where I'll end up once I'm dead.

As antagonizing as it is to watch a man whose shirt is caked with dandruff and pants stained with grease preach the immorality of Judaism, I never opened my mouth. For that man to think I would ever believe such a preposterous statement is a complete insult to my character. However, if you were also informed that you are going to hell, let me know, we'll do lunch. When you get to a new place it's always nice to have someone show you the ropes.

Jeremy Elias is a junior majoring in communications.