My fellow Wolfpack students, we have a unique opportunity on our hands. We will eventually see Harrelson Hall go the way of the dinosaurs and the dodo. Yes, that monstrosity of a building will eventually be no more, and many, including yours truly, will rejoice at the glorious fall of Harrelson Hall.

But I see more than just the opportunity to rejoice at the demolition of a campus building; we can easily turn this project into more than a scheduled change for the campus. I say the University can make a pretty penny off of this whole affair.

I know students who absolutely detest Harrelson. And there are so many reasons to hate that building: the usually broken bathrooms, the mountain-like staircases, the annoying slopes that dominate the building, the Stone Age elevator, and the annoying realization that you took the wrong stairwell and have to walk all the way around to get to your destination.

A bit of simple math will show that a hated building plus the students and faculty that hate it sums up to a little event I call the Harrelson Hall Haters’ Fair.

Now I’m not sure how the University plans on removing Harrelson from the campus, but I’ve come up with several clever ideas that could help pay for the future construction costs of whatever building replaces Harrelson.

If we somehow manage to figure a safe way to do one of those implosion-type demolitions, I say create a raffle fund, with the grand prize being the privilege to push the big red button that sets off the fireworks. The runner-up prizes can be opportunities to push buttons that only set off a small implosion designed to make the big bang a bit safer.

The possibilities are endless. Remember those fraternities and other organizations that occasionally bring in an old clunker of a car into the Brickyard for students to maul with a sledgehammer? We do the same for Harrelson: for one dollar, a person can take a good ole’ swing at the giant round eyesore of the Brickyard, excluding the windows. Why exclude the windows? Another booth at the fair: we charge two dollars for the opportunity to throw four baseballs into a window. And we give prizes for people who knock out third story windows.

I’m sure other people can come up with creative ways for students and staff alike to express their disgust and frustration with Harrelson Hall in a way that the University can benefit. My only other suggestion is having prime observation sites constructed with a fair price of admission so one can have front-row seats to the end of one of N.C. State’s architectural nightmares.

So yes, my fellow members of Wolfpack Nation, we can jump for joy knowing that someday we will wake up and Harrelson Hall will be no more. But let us not squander the opportunity to turn what could be a routine demolition into an event that will be remembered for years.

And let us pray that the University doesn’t use too many bricks in the next building.

Do you hate Harrelson Hall? E-mail your thoughts to [email protected]