There’s a peculiar calm settling across the quad. The entire campus seems somewhat reafflicted by this epidemic of indifference.

The arduous and lengthy campaign kept entire hordes of politicos and their discontents busy for the better part of two years. The homophobes shouting and the crowds they drew in opposition made for a beautiful campus, and so did the vocal proponents of presidential candidates and, ultimately, their parties. That single guy with the hand painted sign at the extremity of the quad trying to hustle communist leaflets for spare coins has once again become a recluse.

This period started to encroach on the idea about college I always had when I was younger. Universities as places of ideas, from intellectual to knee-jerk; all being shouted from makeshift soapboxes at strategic points in well-traveled areas, a crossfire of sociopolitical opinion to duck and dodge your way through in willful ignorance on your way to give a poster board presentation in a do-nothing general ed class. My dream extended to the banding together of like-minded, young ideologues – myself excluded, solitary genius that I am – making some kind of “difference” or perhaps at least arranging meetings involving beer and tirades. The classic Paris in 1968 sense of university.

That sham has ended. Even on Election Day, I would have imagined dedicated, young stumpers out hollering for their candidate. But no, the only shouting I heard on campus at noon on Nov. 4, was the familiar Chinese-American refrain of, “Saaaaandwich and soda! It’sa lunchtime!”

The Obama people did their damnedest the past few months, I will give them that. And whether it was here at Sacramento State or at any college campus in the country, the push to register the typically non-voting youth bloc seems to have been a success. But I’m still bitter about the present silence.

At least the beginning of the semester had frats and sororities begging for your time, attention and loyalty. Maybe that’s what I’m missing: I miss the amateurish persuasion that permeated campus life until Nov. 5.

Tumbleweeds and squirrels now outnumber discontent and occupy the space formerly used to try to sell me an idea, organization, candidate or T-shirt. My pride and understanding of Americanism is somewhat confused by this freedom to roam unaccosted.

So, consider this an appeal. I know of the bunch of you out there in Hornetland, there have some absurd, maybe dangerous, hopefully comical understandings of how the world works. Maybe you’ve got a fantastic idea you’re afraid the American Eagle crowd wouldn’t even take the time to throw away your leaflet. But, let me beg you:

With the election over, now is the time to voice your opinion, weird or only kind of weird, naturally loud or mega phoned, to a crowd of people haplessly desperate for new ideas. Politics can only obscure your cause at this point.

I do have that guy’s phone number – the CalTrans reflective gent with the Palin fetish I mentioned some weeks ago. May he and late night AM radio be my lifelines to persuasive insanity.

Cody Bishop can be reached at [email protected]