Scroop

Dear College,

I formally reject your rejection. You have grossly underestimated my intellectual prowess, inventive capabilities, and overall ingenious genious. I will prove this to you by explaining why the portemanteau “scroop” is a necessary addition to the English dictionary:

I do it. You do it. Your friend does it. We all do it. At least once in your life—although realistically, at least once every day—you have scrooped. An amalgam of “scroll” and “poop,” this portmanteau captures the grip of modern-day technology on our everyday lives. Entrenching itself in the most intimate and primal parts of our day, technology has found a new platform to entertain: the toilet.

The disturbingly satisfying phonetics of “scroop” (say it out loud, go on, don’t be shy) further embody how the activities of “scrolling” and “pooping” are harmonious, not just logically and realistically, but within the very etymological, epistemological scaffolding of the English language.

I am not afraid to admit that I scroop. Amidst the rigor of academics, tending to my bowels is the closest thing I have to me time—might as well spend it scrolling through the depths of instagram or reading a juicy NYTimes ethicist article. Furthermore, the act of “scrooping” speaks to a larger issue within our capitalist-hyperproductive-overscheduled-grindset society; our time is so intensely scheduled and busy that the most private part of our day is consumed by rectangle with rounded corners.. Moreover, the word scroop is unbelievably efficient and captures all the societal, cultural, anthropological nuances on which I have elucidated above. I could be mature and use “scroop” as an opportunity to reflect on my corrupted sense of “me time.” But maturity is for closeted scroopers.

I am certain that “scroop” will successfully ingratiate itself in the lexicon of young adults and be published in some sort of digital Newspeak-Brainrot Dictionary. This will be my legacy. College, will scrooping be apart of yours?